Lycan Redemption Read Free

into Canada but a breath away. What more could he ask under the given circumstances? Once the other lycans came for him, and eventually they would, he’d lure them away before they found her. He’d never put her in danger because of his selfishness. He may have only just met her, but he’d give his life in a heartbeat to keep her safe. No matter how things ultimately played out, she was his. Forever. He was hers. Forever.

Chapter Two
    “Patrick?” Myka called out as she entered the small mudroom connected to the kitchen.
    She hung her coat on a hook by the door and pulled her boots off. Patrick had been helping her in the barn earlier, but once they’d gotten close to finishing up the last stall, she’d sent him to the house to get cleaned up for dinner. The delay with Galen may have given the little boy just enough time to find trouble.
    Patrick was a great kid with a huge heart, but he had an inclination for mischief. There wasn’t a mean bone in the kid’s body. Unfortunately, he was not only the spitting image of Travis physically but had inherited his father’s penchant for attracting trouble. Travis never looked for trouble, but it had persistently followed him wherever he’d gone. A slight flutter of panic hit her in the gut when she remembered the late-night phone call six months ago from Travis’s employer, and she hurried down the hall to check the bathroom.
    She smiled in relief when she peeked through the crack of the partially closed door and saw Patrick. He was standing on the red step stool she’d gotten him, in front of the sink, brushing his teeth. She shook her head before patting the door lightly.
    “Dinner will be ready in fifteen. Hurry up. We’re going to have company.”
    She didn’t wait for his answer as she made her way back to the kitchen. The robust scent of the roast, potatoes, and carrots she’d put in the Crock-Pot this morning wafted enticingly through the house. She washed her hands, retrieved a head of lettuce from the fridge, rinsed it, and placed it on a cutting board. She found a bowl in the lower cabinet, then got to work cutting up the green leaves for salad.
    Once finished, she rinsed the knife and cutting board before placing them in the strainer to air-dry. By the time she’d sprinkled shredded cheese on the salad and gotten the dressing out, Patrick was standing beside her.
    “Who’s coming for dinner? We never have guests.”
    She was happy to see him exert the general enthusiasm and curiosity a little boy should about such a thing. She’d been worried about Patrick for months after Travis’s death. He’d been sullen, withdrawn, and depressed for much longer than she thought was healthy. With the help of Ms. Case—Betty, a psychiatrist who’d chosen Loring, Montana, for her retirement home—Patrick had slowly shown improvement over the past few months. Betty had refused any kind of payment for helping Patrick, which had been a blessing since Myka hadn’t had the funds to pay for therapy. That hadn’t stopped her from slipping Betty fresh eggs and produce here and there whenever possible.
    Patrick was technically supposed to start kindergarten in a couple weeks, but Betty suggested waiting until next year considering the recent trauma of losing his father. Myka had agreed, but in compromise took him to a local day care once a week for a supervised play day. She and Betty both wanted Patrick to maintain as normal of a life as possible in the rural community, wanted to expose him to other children and give him every opportunity to have friends and be a typical kid.
    On the day that Patrick went to day care, Myka took care of errands and occasionally made the trip to neighboring Malta for supplies that weren’t always readily available in her small community. Over time, Patrick had come out of his shell, and had become a happy, carefree boy. Myka would always struggle with her brother’s death, and she was an adult who understood that death was a part of