Chapter 51

Zane POV

I left the VIP box to sign for the puppy, which would be brought around to us soon to make sure we were all happy with each other. Caring for a dog is a sacred duty, after all, and all steps should be taken to ensure the creature’s happiness.

The girls were ecstatic about getting a puppy, though I knew they didn’t realize just how much was involved in adding her to our home. And I wasn’t going to let Sarah add to her responsibilities. Ollie had a dog, though he was a basset hound and did nothing more than sleep on the sofa all day.

Hans was already busy enough, as was Travis. Elliot would, as the housekeeper, have to see to some of the dog’s needs. My private secretary, Stacy, might design to allow a puppy to sniff her shoes, but she would only take on walking duties under protest, and I didn’t want to lose her. Mavis, the groundskeeper, might like a puppy to accompany her at times during the day. I would ask her.

“Alpha Zane?” a woman asked from my left, and I turned to see a gamma auction attendant. “I thought you might like to view the next lot up close.”

Intrigued, I followed her to a long table on which lay a framed and sepia-toned photograph of a woman. I had to control my response. Despite the obvious age of the photo, the face looking up at me with a sad smile looked almost exactly like Sarah.

I looked to the attendant, who nodded a little knowingly. “I was surprised, if you will allow me to say, Alpha Zane, by the resemblance to Miss Astor, particularly considering the woman in the photo is Clara Maxim, the world’s last known Moon Wolf.”

I’m sure my surprise showed on my face this time as I looked back down.

Clara Maxim had died almost fifty years ago, without a mate or, officially, a child. Legend had it, however, that she had gone into the woods and given birth to a little girl who would repopulate the Moon Wolf line, an alpha family of such power that they had once ruled over all living werewolves, uniting us all as a pack.

Since the weakening and the eventual loss of the Moon Wolf line, the unity of purpose werewolves share had been fraying. There was talk of fighting between small werewolf packs in the Middle East and calls by some packs in southern Africa to force humans out of their territory. Even large packs, such as the WEU, were seeing an increase in in-fighting.

Maxim had been a highly reclusive individual, and the only photograph I had ever seen of her, the one in my textbooks, had her face half in shadow. If this photo were truly of her, it was priceless and deserved to be in a museum, and I said as much to the attendant.

“This is a copy,” she said, “one of only ten made before the original photograph was placed in a vault in the Smithsonian.” She pointed to a small marking on the matting that read, “9/10.”

I watched as the photograph was taken from the table by a lovely human female and only then realized I needed to warn Sarah. I hurried back to the VIP box but was too late, going by the expression of astonishment on her face.

“Do you see that, Daddy?” Chloe demanded in a voice that carried through the room. “She looks just like Mommy!”

“Not just like me,” Sarah said, though it was almost drowned out by the buzz that went around the crowd.

I looked around, quieting the noise a bit, and spotted Scott in the crowd. What was he doing here? For just a second, our eyes met, and he seemed very smug about something before he looked away and flashed a charming grin at an attendant walking up to him with a tray of champagne flutes.

I felt my hackles rise. The last time I’d seen that look in Scott’s eyes, we’d been arguing over our father’s estate. I had been full of grief, mourning the man who had been such an important part of my life, and Scott had been concerned only with the money he wasn’t going to inherit. I hadn’t known Scott well before then, as he’d lived with his omega mother on the other side of the country.

I remember the first few times we met, how kind and elegant he’d seemed. I’d even admired him. But as he stood there harping on about how his birthright had been stolen and his entire life he’d been treated unfairly by “his” family—meaning mine—I’d realized the charm and kindness were an act. The cold eyes regarding me with hatred, that was the real man.

His contesting of Father’s will hadn’t gotten far in court, but that hadn’t stopped him from accosting my wife twice in public trying to get at me through her. The second time he’d actually frightened her, and I’d had to warn him off and get the police involved to get him to stop.

And now he was here, looking with great interest at the photograph, and I felt my blood run cold. I had no idea what he wanted now, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. It was an old stereotype I didn’t want to think about, but alphas born of omegas were extremely rare and, the story went, often unstable.

I felt myself growing more protective of the photograph the longer Scott looked at it. I admit, it was compelling to see a werewolf version of Sarah, a reminder to me of what I couldn’t have, and it felt like Scott were desecrating it somehow.

And he wasn’t alone. Several in the crowd were pointing and making comments, though none that reached my ears was objectionable, and I couldn’t really blame them for their surprise. The resemblance was uncanny.

“It looks like my mother,” Sarah said. “I mean, from the photographs my aunt and uncle showed me.”

“They raised you,” I said, remembering Travis’s report.

“Yes, although . . .”

I looked at her thoughtful expression. “Yes?”

“The photo I have shows my mother looking taller and happy. The woman in that photo looks so small and sad.”

I looked back at the photo and agreed. Clara Maxwell looked quite sad and stooped with age. I knew Sarah’s mother had died young.

“Could she be your lost aunt or something?” Chloe asked.

Sarah laughed and stroked my daughter’s cheek. “Werewolves and humans aren’t genetically similar enough to have children together, sweetie.”

Chloe looked puzzled.

“We’re not closely related enough,” I added, thinking the terminology was a little over her head.

“So, it’s a, what’s that word?” she asked.

“Coincidence, yes,” Sarah said.

Chloe looked unconvinced.

I realized about then I would be bidding on the photograph. In fact, I wondered if that were why Rob had wanted to invite us both to the auction, so we could see the picture and everyone else could see the resemblance it held to Sarah. Well, the oddity might drive up the price, but I would be taking it home, even if only to lock it up in a vault of my own.

“Shall we open the bidding at a thousand dollars?” the auctioneer asked the room.

I nodded.

“I have one thousand,” the auctioneer said, raising his wooden gavel. “Do I hear more?”

The room was quiet for a moment.

“Ten thousand!” a voice rang out.