Page 43 of Shadow of Fury

He stood there in shock and wonder. Today was just full of revelations. He’d heard about healers with the ability to sense death, to know when it was near, but he’d never known one with the special gift. It was a legend among their kind more than anything and he’d always assumed it was a myth but the way Sunny had said those words, the way she’d looked at him, he was certain she knew what she was talking about.

A moan from the woman in the bed forced him back into the moment and he quickly moved to the bedside, “Mom?”

Dark lashes fluttered and her gaze seemed to focus in on him for only a moment before her lids drooped again and she lost focus. He found her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She was skin and bones and he felt like if he touched her too hard she’d fall to pieces. He took the chair Sunny had pulled up beside the bed and leaned close.

“Mom, I’m here.”

“Logan.” she said his name softly, not a question but he nodded anyway.

“I’m here.”

“My boy. But not a boy. Too long.”

He winced at her half-finished statements but he understood what she was saying and nodded, “I know. I was gone so long, too long, but I’m back now. I’m here and I’m all grown up so whatever it is you need to tell me, I’m ready to hear it.”

“Tell… you?” she sounded confused and a rattling cough escaped her. “Love you. Always.”

He felt tears well behind his eyes but blinked them back, “I love you too, Mom.”

If that was what she’d called him back home for in such a rush, it was worth it. Even if he didn’t get his answers, didn’t get some important message he’d been expecting, this was enough. His mother loved him and had taken the time and energy she had left to tell him. It was a gift even if it threatened to break his heart.

She wheezed, drawing in ragged breaths, “Never showed it well. Your father…”

Logan frowned when she trailed off, “What about Dad?”

A moment passed that felt like an eternity and he’d almost convinced himself that whatever she’d meant didn’t matter. She was struggling to breathe, and he didn’t want her to stress her body any further. She gave a small squeeze of his hand and he glanced up to see her eyes had momentarily cleared again.

“He’s not who you think he is, Logan.” she whispered.

Logan fought the urge to scream. They couldn’t be doing this again. He couldn’t do it right now. He wouldn’t argue with her as she lay dying, not when it was the same old fight they’d had throughout his teenage years. As he’d grown up and begun to figure out who his father truly was, he’d confronted his mother with the rumors and with the information he’d found, but she’d never wanted to hear the truth. She’d always defended her mate and now she was dying and she was still trying to change Logan’s mind.

“Mom, don’t. Please.”

“Lo, Logan.” She coughed again. “It’s him.”

“What?” He frowned, unable to put together her thoughts for her this time.

“He’s… the… sickness.”

“I know.” He brushed her hair back gently, “I know you’re sick because of him, because of the bond, because he’s sick too.”

“No.” she moaned as if she was in pain and squeezed her eyes shut. “Not.. the bond. Others.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Others. Sick.” She grit her teeth and he shook his head.

“You’re saying others are sick too?”

She didn’t answer because a coughing fit overtook her. They wracked her body, making her shiver and shake until he was certain she was going to break her frail bones. When the fit ended she lay back against her pillow with her eyes shut and breathed, loud and raspy, trying to catch her breath again.

Logan had once hated his mother for never being there for him, for always taking his father’s side, for never standing up to the bastard, but he never would have wished this torment on anyone. He loved her despite all her flaws. He still blamed her for what they’d all become but he could also see that Vivian had been right. Their mother was as much a victim of Byron’s selfish, narcissistic, insatiable need for power as the rest of them, only as his bonded mate she couldn’t leave him.

Knowing this was his last chance to figure out what she knew, what Darren seemed to think she knew, he forced the questions that he needed answers to and prayed she could and would answer them for him.

“Mom. I need to know what he's up to. How long has he been sick? What is it? Why are you sick from it too but worse? Is he really dying too? Why did he bring me home now? What does he want from me?”

Her lids slowly opened again and a defeated grimace twisted her once pretty face, “Legacy. You’re his… must protect it.”