The Wolf Siren. Karen Whiddon

so,” she managed, the answer to his question coming a heartbeat too late.

      Hand warm under her chin, he studied her, his silver eyes missing nothing. Her entire body flushed. Slowly, moving her head, she gave him no choice but to let her go. Though their fingers were still linked, she backed away, putting just enough space between them so she could once again breathe.

      “Are you going to tell me what that was?” he asked.

      For a second, she considered feigning ignorance, but since it appeared that everyone in the room had sensed her internal battle, or some aspect of it, she knew this would be futile. “I’d rather not. At least not right now.”

      Eyes narrowing, he nodded. “Are you going to be all right to rejoin my family?”

      For now, her beast had gone quiet again. She didn’t know what had set the monster off; whatever triggered it seemed to follow no pattern that Lilly could see.

      “I think so.” She tried for a smile, partially succeeding.

      “Good.” Opening the door, he led her back down the hallway toward the kitchen.

      The organized chaos stilled the moment they reappeared. Kane broke the awkward silence by sniffing and grinning as he made a broad gesture toward the pots simmering on the stove. “Something sure smells good. What’s cooking?”

      Just like that, everyone went back to what they’d been doing. Bemused, no longer terrified of them, though she wasn’t sure why, Lilly let Kane tug her along by the hand, while he joked and teased his family.

      “Go ahead and get seated,” the elder Mrs. McGraw ordered, already bustling from the kitchen to the dining room, carrying steaming bowls of food. She wore a brightly colored apron and her plump hands were adorned with rings, one on every finger.

      Judging from the scents wafting from the bowls, she’d made some kind of roast, along with vegetables, and homemade bread. Lilly’s mouth began to water.

      Everyone seemed to rush at once to take their seats at a long table. Lilly stopped counting at twelve chairs, amazed as she realized there was another table set up for the kids.

      “Here you go.” Kane pulled out a chair for her. Once she’d taken her seat, he dropped into the one next to her. Someone to his left good-naturedly jostled him, almost causing him to knock over his water glass. He saved it with another grin.

      Once everyone had taken a seat, they began passing around the bowls. Lilly had never seen so much food in her life. Amazed, she accepted one bowl after another, spooning a little on to her plate, afraid she might offend Kane’s mother if she didn’t sample everything.

      Watching, she noticed no one started eating. Apparently they were waiting until everyone had gotten everything. She waited, as well, even though she felt hollow from hunger.

      Finally, Kane’s father stood and tapped on his glass with his knife. He flashed a friendly smile at her before glancing around the table. “Today, in honor of Kane’s guest, I’d like to say a little prayer.”

      At his words, everyone bowed their heads. Confused, Lilly glanced at Kane, only to realize he too had closed his eyes and dropped his chin.

      Unnerved, she also bowed her head, though she kept her eyes open so she could watch Kane through her lashes.

      “Higher power, we thank thee for your blessings. This food, our company, the love we have for one another and, finally, our good health. In your name, we salute the earth, the sun, the stars and the moon.”

      The moon? She frowned, thinking of the kind of prayers Jacob Gideon and his followers had prayed with such fervor. They’d invoked a lot of retribution and hellfire, and nothing about thankfulness or love. Then and there, she decided Sanctuary and Kane’s family didn’t share the same God.

      Once the prayer was finished, everyone dug in. Bowls were continually passed as people took seconds, even thirds. Lilly tried, but she couldn’t even finish everything on her plate.

      “Wonderful meal,” Mr. McGraw boomed, patting his ample stomach. “Leave the dishes, hon. Me and the boys will get them.”

      Once again, Lilly could scarcely believe her ears. In the world where she’d been raised, Sanctuary, all the men had treated the women as little more than serfs. And that had been in the best-case scenario. Once more she was forcibly reminded that the rest of the world wasn’t like Sanctuary.

      As the men pushed back from the table and began gathering the dishes, Kane touched her shoulder. “You’ll be all right? I shouldn’t be gone more than a minute or two.”

      Slowly, she nodded. He grabbed her plate and his, and moved to the other side of the table, picking up silverware. Lilly noted some of the other women pretending not to watch her. She offered Kane’s mother a tentative smile, relieved when the older woman smiled back, genuine laugh lines creasing her light blue eyes.

      With the background noise of silverware and plates clattering in the kitchen, chatter flowed easily among the women. Lilly didn’t participate, but she listened, marveling at the feminine camaraderie. A swift stab of yearning filled her. The closest she’d ever come to having a friend had been one of the female doctors at Sanctuary, who’d exploited Lilly’s loneliness. Dr. Silva had pretended friendship in order to make it easier for her to perform experiments on Lilly.

      The first time Lilly had begged her to stop, her so-called friend had ignored her and tightened the screws instead.

      Since that day, Lilly no longer believed in friendship.

      But the camaraderie among these women, who were joined by blood or by marriage, felt different. None of them appeared to have anything to gain, no private agenda as they joked and laughed, teased and commiserated. Lilly made a note to watch them while she was here, and see who tried to exploit whom.

      The men returned a few minutes later. They too seemed in high spirits, jostling one another, bumping shoulders and fists. Kane seemed slightly embarrassed, side-stepping when his two brothers tried to get him in a headlock. His gaze locked on hers, sitting so quietly, as if he knew she thought herself a weed among blooming flowers.