by Amanda Milo
Finn’s boot makes contact with my foot again—the only safe way to tease me since Sue is being protective of me. I can practically hear him. He wants something, all right.
Susan is my mate. My anamchara. I’d say it happened fast, but a lot of times, wolves know the moment they meet their other half. Unfortunately, because she’s human, she may never return my conviction. “Not right now, Susan. Thank you.”
“Not yet, you mean,” Finn mutters. “Lucky jackal.”
Now it’s my turn to growl.
Susan shoots a suspicious look between us. “Okay. Whatever’s going on here, I’m out. You two can play your weird little werewolf games. I’m going back to work.”
“That’s best,” Finn says. “We will never stop our werewolf game. Not,” he adds with a wolfish grin, “until my friend here wins.”
CHAPTER 27
SUSAN
Saturday comes at breakneck speed, and it’s not one of our typical quiet weekends where we can bum around—the girls are scheduled to be with their dad.
That leaves Ginny and Deek kind of third-wheeling it since Ginny isn’t going to go with Charlotte for visitation with a man she isn’t related to, and Deek has no one to play babysitter to.
But they won’t be third-wheeling for long. After conferring with Finn, it’s decided that I’ll be driving the pair of them to Pack headquarters. And Finn will either be dropping them off or I’ll be picking them up Sunday night.
It’s a plan that makes me laugh a little, because it’s like I’m negotiating visitation for two sets of kids, although two of them aren’t mine.
And Deek is anything but a kid.
My gaze strays to him. To my surprise, my eyes connect with his.
I count three of my breaths—which speed up—before he glances away first.
For some reason, it fills my stomach with fluttering. Are these… butterflies?
Rolling my eyes at myself, I take off for the girls’ rooms, doing a last-minute check to make sure they aren’t missing anything.
When I emerge, their dad is standing on our doorstep, looking oddly subdued.
No, freaked out.
Julién is normally so confident. I’m not sure if I’ve ever actually seen him this level of off.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, grabbing the handles on one of Charlotte’s bags and toting it all of three steps toward the door before Deek is relieving me of it.
“Thanks,” I murmur, but now I’m eyeing him, because even he’s acting weird.
Deek’s beard has made an appearance—and since he came up the basement steps freshly shaved not an hour ago, this is strange, and a definite sign of nerves.
Also strange? His beard hair looks bristled. As in, it’s standing up. In fact, his arms look weird because not only does he have significant fur coverage, all of his hairs are standing straight up—making him look almost fluffy. But… also kind of freaky.
I look between him and Julién. “What’s going on?”
And that’s when Julién turns to fully face me, and I see one of his eyes is circled with ugly dull yellow and magenta. He’s been punched.
I should be horrified. And I do sort of have an instant of feeling bad, that burst of compassion anyone feels when they see a fellow human being sporting an injury.
However. In a very dark part of my soul that I’m not proud of, something smiles.
‘It was an accident.’
‘She didn’t mean anything.’
‘I swear I will never be unfaithful to you again!’
Lies.
“Sue,” is what Julién says. And that’s all he says. He doesn’t try to charm me, to manipulate me, or inquire about my wellbeing as if we’re polite strangers who can exchange such niceties without our history sitting behind us in ashes. Which he’s infuriatingly good at.
I’ve gotten good at it too, but to manage it, my heart had to break. It shattered into a million pieces that don’t love, don’t trust. It’s turned me cold inside.
I’m not feeling cold at the moment though. I’m despicably giddy. Unable to say anything in the face of Julién’s—well, his face, I don’t say anything at all. After an inexcusably long moment, I do manage a jerky nod of acknowledgement.
I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.
I hug each of the girls, giving them goodbye squeezes they return fiercely.
Julién turns to the bags accumulating by his feet and begins trekking them down the sidewalk and to his car.
Quickly, I glance at Deek.
Instead of ducking, Deek meets my eyes, something in his gaze almost challenging as he watches me back.
“Do you know anything about his…” I wave to my eye.
Deek doesn’t blink. “Finn said to tell you that your ex can’t eat an apple through a tennis racket yet—but it’s only because of his daughters that he’s been spared. Finn doesn’t want to scare them, but he did want to get the message across to the fleabag that you don’t mess with Pack.”
“But we’re not Pack.”
His expression does not change. “You’ve been adopted.”
Ginny slowly makes her way back into the house, looking first to Deek, then to me. “They’re ready to go,” she says dully.
I move to the doorway, trot down the steps, and prepare to wave my girls off for the weekend.
To my surprise and not-surprise, Deek joins me, standing behind my shoulder.
I lean down to see into the windows and wave. “Have a good time, ladies!”
“We will, Mom,” Charlotte says, a pained smile on her face. She’s at the age where she’s aware of the major cause of her parents’ marriage failure, and she struggles with not seeing her father in a less affectionate light because of his actions.
“Bye, Mom!” Maggie calls. “Bye, Deek!” she adds.
“Yeah, Deek, bye,” Charlotte chimes. She looks to Ginny. “Have fun with the Pack.”
“She gets to see Liam?” Maggie demands, apparently not having realized before this that Ginny is going to see the wolves this weekend. Also apparent is the fact that Maggie is feeling proprietary over a boy who she considers her puppy. She turns pleading eyes onto Ginny. “He likes to be carried,” she tells her as if she’s an authority on this matter.
“I’ll remember that,” Ginny says wryly, the corner of her mouth quirked.
“They’ll be back on Sunday at six,” Julién announces from the driver’s seat. A clear indication he’d like to wrap this up and be on their way. And that’s fair. His time with our children is extremely limited.
With a final wave, I step back and bump into Deek.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t edge away from me to give me room. Instead, we stand together, unified in watching my girls be driven away, Ginny behind us, exuding unhappiness so thickly, I think I can taste it.
“How often do you have to let them go like this?” Deek asks, not sounding the least bit pleased about this arrangement.
I make an appropriate answer. “When he can schedule time to have them. It’s only fair.”
“HOW?” Deek whispers, the word coming from deep in his chest, speaking without meaning to just behind the shell of my ear, making a shivery sensation travel up my spine.
I lock my knees and slap the back of my neck. “They’re half his,” I explain.
“You have the day off today, right, Sue?” Ginny asks from behind us.
I turn, moving further away from Deek because my body is strangely attuned to him and it needs to chill out a little. “Yep,” I confirm, searching her troubled eyes. “Why?”
She’s hugging herself. “Will you come with me? To this Pack visit?”
My lips part, my instinct almost making me say yes before I think to check with Deek. If he says no, I think I’m going to fight Finn on this. Fight all of them. If I can. I realize Ginny is sort of theirs, as far as they’re concerned.
But Ginny is also sort of mine.
This girl has practically been raised with my daughte
r. And Ginny is all alone. Sure, the Pack was welcoming. But it’s clear to see that she’s scared. She needs someone in her corner.
I look to Deek, my jaw tightening as I prepare my argument.
Sensing my attention on him, his gaze flicks up. He takes one look at the way I’m going on the defensive, and he jerks back.
Ginny laughs softly. “I don’t think Deek is the one who makes the rules.”
He shakes his head, eyes on the sidewalk. “I don’t. I don’t make any rules.”
Smiling at him, I reach out and place a reassuring hand on his arm, my touch making his eyes widen, making him go stock still, and I know I have all of his attention even though he never quite makes eye contact.
I move to Ginny, wrapping her up in a hug. She clings to me, a girl who needs someone she can trust at her back. “Time to visit the Pack.”
CHAPTER 28
LUCAN
I can tell that Susan is bracing herself for a fight. She’s probably thinking she’s going to meet resistance when she declares that she intends to stay instead of simply dropping Ginny off here.
But the moment we open up the car doors, we’re swamped with shifters—in both forms—who envelop Susan and Ginny alike by dragging them into the Half Moon House.
“Will you stay for lunch?” Jennifer asks Susan.
Gail scoffs and grins at our guests. “I’ll warn you, if you say yes for lunch, expect to find yourself still here for supper. You could be in the driveway and we’d haul you back in.”
Susan’s face undergoes several shuttered expressions that still betray her surprise—and her relief. She shares a look with Ginny, and tugs her into her side for a motherly squeeze. “I’d love to. Thank you for inviting me to your home again.”
“Of course!” Jenn cries. “Consider yourself family now. You’ve been adopted.”
Susan’s brows shoot up even as her eyes narrow. She shoots a look at me, making me duck. “You know, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Deek and Finn were saying—”
“Did I hear my name?” Finn calls, tromping down the stairs. “Howeyeh, Sue! Ginny! You made it!”
Ginny is relaxing by degrees, and Susan must notice. She lets her arm drop-slide so that it’s draping her in a loose hug. One Ginny can pull out of when she’s ready.
Ginny stays where she is. She meets Finn’s eyes, her face earnest—and worried. “Can I see my mom?”
Finn’s response is easy. “Sure you can, sweetheart. Do you want to eat lunch first or see her now?”
“Now,” Ginny replies, visibly bracing herself.
“Follow me.” Finn motions for her and Susan to follow him.
Reluctant to part with Susan, I follow her.
Finn turns to look over his shoulder and leans out around the girls so he can shoot me a knowing smirk.
We make the trek to the London House where Ginny’s mom is still being rehabbed. She’s doing well. This visit, she isn’t hateful to her daughter, and Ginny is moved to tears of relief as we make our way out.
“This weekend, we’ll take you into the woods,” Finn announces to her, staring ahead of us at the tree line to give her some time to compose herself, “and we’ll start your training. You’ll be given a guide.”
“Like a book?” Ginny asks, swiping her face clean with the backs of her hands. Susan soothingly rubs her back.
“Like a person,” Finn says. “Someone to teach you what you need to know to be a wolf.”
“Will Deek be my teacher?” Ginny asks, surprising me enough to glance up, and therefore I end up catching the gentle smile Susan turns my way. It’s so warm.
“Bah, no! You need an alpha to match you. I’ll be your teacher,” Finn announces. He rubs his hands together with anticipation. “But first, lunch!”
Lunch is full of hearty laughs, camaraderie, and a worry-eased Susan and Ginny.
Supper goes the same.
Everyone heads outside to walk off the food, and because it’s a Saturday with nearly all of the Pack home, we play games with both forms participating—a bastardized soccer game played with multiple mauled balls clutched in shifter mouths, tag for the younger pups, racing for all ages, and for those exclusively in human form, there’s horseshoes and tennis and volleyball.
Susan wanders to the impromptu soccer field, and I follow her. It probably doesn’t strike her as strange that I’m dogging her heels because Ginny is too.
They watch the soccer game with naked fascination. They gasp when an alpha uses deliberate intimidation (an aggressively direct stare, looming, and body tensed for conflict) on a group of submissive players, causing all three of them to drop to the ground—one of them in human form—and show their bellies.
One of the submissives in wolf form turns her head, slowly closes her jaws around the ball, and rolls to her feet in an explosive burst, dashing to the net with every lick of speed she’s got, her tail tucked between her legs and her ears pinned back, eyes wild as she escapes the alpha’s laughing growls.
She darts right into the net, skidding past the goalie, slamming the ball and herself into the netting.
“GOAL!” someone shouts.
Susan and Ginny cheer.
With a victory yip, the submissive bitch takes up her tattered ball and trots past the ruefully grinning goalie, sending him a sneeze on her way to rejoin the rest of her team.
I nudge Ginny and Susan to move with the other onlookers, who are constantly pacing. Which is a typical behavior for werewolves. Staying still is a skill we learn, and in hunting, we practice. But for games like this where we play or watch others play, we pace.
Back and forth we trek along the sidelines, watching the game and calling encouragement. Ginny takes in everything, watching people with sharp eyes and a keen expression.
Her jaw drops when she spots males (in shifter and human forms) taking breaks to lope to a nearby stand of trees to water them. She taps Susan’s arm, never taking her eyes off of the men’s backs, and when Susan spies what she’s gaping at, she covers her mouth in shock.
“You don’t need to use the great outdoors. Bathroom closest to us from here is in the Ōkami House,” I murmur to them, glancing at the yakan—the Japanese ‘wild dog’ shifters on the field who mostly live in Ōkami. In their wolf form, they’re creatures that look like crosses between Shiba Inus and wolves. “I can take you or ask anyone for directions.”
They only need a moment to shake off their surprise. Which is good, because then we find ourselves folded into a soccer match against the three submissives who have been scoring goals like mad. We all stay on the same team until the other side demands a trade for Ginny—because she’s good.
She’s grinning as she scores the first goal for the opposing side. She gets progressively more bloodthirsty as the game progresses, making me wonder how her phys ed classmates fare.
We play for a while, Susan laughing and using the mildest curses imaginable as she jogs to keep the ball. When we score, she turns to me and raises her hands. “We did it!” she shouts.
She’s grinning. Her hair is sticking to her face, her ponytail is askew, and there’s a smear of dirt on her cheek.
I smile back at her, and clap my hands to hers, our fronts close enough I can feel her body heat. Her breasts almost brush me.
And then it’s late, and Susan looks a little lost as she gathers herself to say goodbye to everyone and leave Ginny behind.
Before she can utter a word, I catch her hand.
Her eyes fly up to mine, and I hold her gaze. “Stay,” I tell her.
Susan shakes her head. “I couldn’t—”
“You can,” I insist. “If you want to stay, then stay. And then you’re here for Ginny tomorrow.”
I watch as this wins her. She nods primly, accepting. “All right. Thank you for extending the invitation. Where do I—”
“Stay with me,” I say without thinking. When her eyes flash up to mine again, startled, I add quickly, “You can take my room, I mean. I can sleep
in wolf form on the floor or I can join anybody else. It’s nothing here to pile up together.”
Susan’s lips curve up and her shoulders relax. “Like a puppy pile?”
I return her smile, finally forced to break eye contact, but only from instinct, not from discomfort. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“Where does Ginny sleep?” Susan asks, a worry-line appearing between her brows.
“With the other girls her age,” I say, and tip my head to the group of females that have absorbed her into their cluster, chatting loudly with her, animated and high-pitched with excitement more befitting a pod of dolphins, not a pack of werewolves.
Susan follows where I indicate, and smiles, watching Ginny telling a story to the group.
I watch too. Ginny senses our attention and glances unerringly at us, and waves. She doesn’t signal that she wants a rescue. She seems happy. Elated.
Susan must think so too. “Okay,” she says. And she squeezes my fingers—shocking me. Because until she does this, I hadn’t caught that she never let go of my hand.
CHAPTER 29
SUSAN
Deek’s room is off a tiny walkway at the topmost set of stairs in the Night Howl house. He has a slope-ceilinged room with two windows, a king-sized bed, a farm table with orderly-looking notes and books (and Bibles), and a bookshelf that runs the full length of the sloped wall.
There are also several cushy-looking dog beds on the floor.
I smile as I step over them. “Sleeping accommodations for werewolves,” I marvel aloud.
“Yep,” Deek confirms. “In the closet you’ll find all sorts of clothes. Grab anything you want for bed. Bathroom has new toothbrushes, floss, the works. If you want a shower, we’ve even got the little travel shampoos and stuff.”
“Like a hotel.”
He nods in confirmation. “Packs are always hosting wolves from other packs so we’ve got spares of everything on hand. Just let me know if you need something you can’t find, because I’m sure we’ve got it.”