Children of the Wolves by Jessica Starre Read Free Book Online

letting the protector serve this long, the elders prevented Michael from being as effective as he could be — the demands heaped upon him would have exhausted a lesser man.
    The elders pretended to serve the interests of the community, but it appeared to Jelena that they never asked the community what their interests were. Still, that was a conflict in her heart, her unwillingness to trust the elders. Michael and the elders had repeatedly assured her that if she could just release the conflict in her heart, she would awaken and everything would turn out right. She would awaken and find her true calling.
    Perhaps they were right. But she found it very hard to trust.
    Amy handed over the repaired tunic and waved away Jelena’s thanks. “That’s what friends are for,” she said, with the air of someone imparting a profundity. She pulled her own materials out of her chest, smoothing the wool out on her lap. Her thick fingers were not as clumsy as she claimed, and her stitches were quick, neat and precise. “Have you talked to Viktor lately? After the service this morning, I cornered him and told him how beautiful his music is. Do you know what he said?”
    Jelena grinned. She knew her friend was trying to distract her from her cares by changing the subject and she appreciated the effort. “No, what did he say?”
    Amy grinned back. “Nothing,” she said, amazement in her tone. Jelena didn’t doubt her amazement; gregarious, bold Amy with her infectious laugh rarely encountered anyone, male or female, who did not respond to her obvious charms. “He said nothing to me. He just looked at me with those big sad eyes of his, like he didn’t quite understand the language I was speaking.”
    Jelena laughed. She could picture Viktor doing just that; tilting his head as he listened to what Amy said but not responding because he had nothing to say. He never thought of his music as having a particular quality or characteristic. He didn’t even really think of it as coming from him — he had once told Jelena it came through him, that was all — so it was not something he expected to be thanked for or complimented over. It simply existed, like the air they breathed, necessary and there. The people would surely miss it if it were gone, but judgment about the music — good or bad, beautiful or ugly — did not measure into it.
    Amy shook her head at Viktor’s foibles and picked up her sewing. “On the other hand, he is easy on the eyes. He’s never been partnered, has he?”
    â€œNo,” Jelena said, then amended, “not that I know of, anyway.” Viktor had always been just Viktor to her, a friend who offered kindnesses, and she had never considered him in that light before. She supposed it was because if she thought of that , she immediately thought of Michael. She sighed. She’d be better off dreaming of Viktor.
    â€œI’m telling you, I wouldn’t mind a little partnership with Viktor,” Amy admitted, laughing low in her throat as she worked thread through the fabric in her lap. “The main reason I want to awaken is so that I can pursue certain extracurricular activities currently discouraged for those in my state.”
    Jelena let out a shout of laughter that she promptly smothered with a hand over her mouth as all eyes in the room turned to her, most of them disapproving. Unseemly displays of mirth suggested that work wasn’t being accomplished. Then Alaric winked at her and that made her feel better. She picked up her sewing again and looked at Amy.
    â€œMost people want to awaken so that they can find their calling and serve the community,” she whispered with mock reproach in her voice. “Are you telling me you want to awaken so that you can climb under the covers with a man?” The thought vaguely thrilled her; if she awakened, then she might — she and Michael might — but that would never