WINDDREAMER Read Free Page A

put out a hand to halt Regan, holding that boy by the scruff of the neck.
    "Isaidenough!"
    Regan tried to punch Corbin, but Conar tightened his hold on the boy's shirt collar and shook him.
    "Damn it, Regan! Cut it out! "
    Regan kicked at his father, narrowly missing Conar's shin. He soon found himself dangling in the air, his shirt nearly over his head.
    "Don't you ever try that again!" Conar growled, "or I'll sling your scrawny ass over my knee and wallop the shit out of you!"
    " Take your hands off me! " the boy screamed, cartwheeling his arms to get away.
    Conar dropped him.
    Regan jerked down his shirt, his eyes blazing at Conar. His mouth set into a thin line, while his chin trembled with rage. " Don't you dare touch me again! "
    It stunned Conar to see the hatred on his son's face. The child glared with so much enmity the very air vibrated with it. A snarl twisted his bloody, split lips, drawn back over little teeth. The small body quivered with fury; the childish fists clenched; the spine turned rigid. Regan's right eye rapidly swelled shut, turning purple, but the look from the dark orbs remained deadly.
    "Find Sentian and stay with him," Conar told his youngest son. "I'll deal with you later."
    When Regan stared at him with a malevolent look, Conar shoved him toward the door.
    "Do it now!"
    The boy jerked away, squinting. "I hate you, you whoring son-of-a-bitch! Why couldn't you have died from them drugs?"
    He didn't even flinch as Conar drew back a hand to hit him.
    " Papa, no! " Corbin yelled, snatching Conar's arm.
    Standing his ground, Regan raked his eyes down Corbin, snorted with disgust, then turned on his heel. "I don't need your help, McGregor!"
    Feeling Corbin's fingers digging into his arm, Conar shook off the hold and walked a few feet away. With his fingers trembling, he pushed hands through his hair. "Are you all right?" he asked.
    "Aye, sir," Corbin breathlessly reply.
    Conar had been avoiding both boys, being, as yet, unable to come to terms with his parenthood. He knew he displayed cowardice in not dealing with the issue, but he had more pressing matters on his mind--or so he had tried to convince himself. Now, he knew he could no longer put off dealing with the problem. "What was that about?"
    "Nothing." Corbin shrugged. "Just boy stuff."
    "Boy stuff?"
    "Aye." Corbin took a step backward, cringing as Conar's brow lifted in anger. "I have some chores Mama gave to me..." He headed for the door.
    Conar drew him back, spun him around, and lightly slammed Corbin into a nearby chair.
    The boy's body shivered. He scrunched down into the chair, his arms folded tightly over his thin chest. He stared into Conar's eyes and swallowed hard. "Ah, is something wrong, sir?"
    Hooking one of the other chairs with his boot, Conar pulled it forward, then placed it directly in front of Corbin's. He straddled it before sitting, not saying a word to the boy looking back at him with such obvious trepidation. He let the silence play out, knowing full well Corbin would give in before he did. Hunched forward, Conar rested his elbows on his knees, his chin cupped in the palm of his right hand, and stared intently at his son.
    Corbin's eyes darted everywhere around the room but at him. He almost smiled when Corbin's shoulders drooped and the child began to fidget. Little puffs came from his son's mouth; he clicked his tongue as he squirmed. Several times he let his gaze roam over Conar's face, but it kept jerking away.
    "Well, all right. We were fighting," Corbin finally acknowledged.
    "You want to tell me why?" Conar asked, calmly.
    Corbin stared toward the fireplace. "He insulted Mama."
    Conar sat back in the chair, sighed. "In what way?"
    A hard glare came into Corbin's pale eyes. "He called her a ...a..."
    "A what?"
    "A bad thing..."
    "What kind of bad thing, Corbi?" Conar didn't miss the surprise on his son's face at his use of the nickname.
    Corbin's chin quivered. "He called my mama a whore."
    Conar felt as though