Epilogue
Ronan
Two weeks later…
Sy’s funeral was a spectacle. The old wolf would’ve loved it.
There were more women in black veils sporting umbrellas on the outer edges of the gravesite than there were seated guests.
Betty was one of the umbrella women. She was in a simple black dress with pearls and short black gloves, a brimless black hat with a veil, and black heels. Her dark brown hair was tightly coiled on the back of her head, and she wore black cat’s eye sunglasses. The only hint of color was the scarlet lipstick on her plump, full lips.
I couldn’t stop staring at her.
My wolf awakened, stirred by my unrelenting focus on Betty. He knew we were in danger here and distraction was the worst mistake we could make. He also knew how badly we wanted her.
Mate , he said.
No , I replied. It doesn’t work like that. Wolves don’t do the mate thing much anymore—at least in my generation. It’s old-fashioned.
He growled, and I barely managed to keep the sound from bursting out of me. The wolf didn’t see the point of trying to change what he considered a fact of canine biology, but he would stand down because I told him to.
And because he liked Betty, too.
We both stared at her for a few minutes more while Calvin Holland finished the eulogy. A fox shifter who was a deacon in a local church said a short prayer. Sy’s black marble urn was placed in a burial vault, and before Calvin fastened the lid, Betty stepped forward and dropped something inside. Calvin nodded his approval. His friend would’ve wanted to be buried with his little black book.
And then it was over, and people shuffled to the dirt path where their cars were parked. The graveyard demon Bertrand Sexton stood beside a row of oleanders and watched the proceedings.
His gaze followed Betty to her car then zeroed in on me. I sensed disapproval, but he didn’t convey it in any way I could pinpoint, so maybe I was imagining it.
Betty turned and smiled at me. She made the universal hand gesture for “call me” and walked away, catching up with Ida and Gladys at the car.
Mason Hartman set a hand on my shoulder. “Third.”
“Second.” I shook it off.
Betty slid into her Mini. A couple of the coven witches stood behind the car and stared daggers at her. Not, I was interested to see, Bronwyn Jonas or the coven mother Margaux Ramirez. They hadn’t attended.
“Alpha requests your presence at his office,” Mason said, bringing my attention back to my own situation.
“One of his wolves is dead. Why isn’t he here?”
“He had obligations that wouldn’t allow him to attend. I’m here in his stead, and the pack sent flowers and paid for the burial, as is the custom.” Mason indicated a wreath on a stand beside the grave.
“And Annabelle Rossi?”
“She’s been dealt with. Her possessions will be absorbed into the pack’s coffers. You know how it works.”
Yeah, I knew. “She didn’t kill him.”
“She desecrated our wolf’s body. If she’d come to us when it happened instead of trying to cover her actions, things would’ve gone differently, but these are the rules we live by.” He cleared his throat. “It was an easy death, if that eases your conscience.”
It didn’t. The things I hated about the pack were starting to stack up. Soon, they’d topple, and I’d be forced to deal with them.
“Come with me,” Mason said.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes. I want to talk to Calvin first.”
“Alpha made it clear you were to come immediately.” He grabbed my shoulder, fingers like steel rods digging into my collar bone.
My wolf rose to his feet. He wasn’t having any of this. I spun around and force-walked Hartman back two steps. His eyes glowed with his wolf’s power.
“Don’t put your hands on me until you’re ready to defend your position in the pack,” I said, letting my wolf bleed into my voice.
“I am the pack second. You obey?—”
“We can do it right here. Everyone present is from the community.” I stared directly into his eyes, a wordless challenge. “Is that what you want, Second ?”
Mason’s jaw tightened; his lips pressed into a bloodless line. His intelligent gaze scanned my face. He appeared to work through the probabilities and come to the conclusion that provoking me wasn’t worth it.
Slowly, he removed his hand from my shoulder.
“The witch has you feeling brave.” His tone was harsh, like granite being ground to powder. “You would do well to remember that she’s as vulnerable as you are in Pallás wolf territory.”
“Threaten her again,” I said flatly. “I want to hear you say it one more time. That way I’ll feel justified about ripping your throat out.”
The wolf shook his head slowly, purposefully. “What makes you think you’d beat me?”
“We both think it. Because if you thought you had a chance of taking me down, you’d have already done it.”
“I’m above you in the pack. What do I gain from challenging an underling?”
“Respect. And don’t call people underlings. It smacks of classism and makes you look like a callous piece of shit.”
One side of his mouth lifted. It wasn’t a smile as much as a twitch. “That doesn’t bother me. I am a callous piece of shit.” He nodded in the direction of the gravesite. “Talk to the fox then go directly to your father’s office. He’ll be waiting.”
He gave me his back and walked to his car.
I jogged over to Calvin, who was standing beside a slim white woman with gray hair. “How you holding up?”
“Okay. When you get to be our age, this sort of thing happens a lot.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” I said.
“No.” He shook his head. “It sure doesn’t. I like to think Sy’s back with his Edina now, which is where he’d want to be.”
The thought made me smile. “I bet that’s exactly where he is.”
Calvin looked around. “Is Betty still here?”
“She left a couple of minutes ago.”
“Darn.” He patted the woman’s hand. “Jenny and I wanted to thank her again for everything she did for us.”
“Did for you?”
Jenny spoke up. “She showed up at the apartments last week with pain charms at deeply discounted rates.”
Calvin gave an effusive nod. “She even provided a couple of them for free since some of the people there can’t afford even a reduced price. You know how it is with retired shifters like us. Most of us don’t have two nickels to rub together.”
“She gave me one to help with my arthritis, and for the first time in years, I’ve been gardening with no pain. It’s a blessing. She’s a blessing. So is that little gnome fellow of hers. They did something to the soil, and now we’ve got the best pepper harvest we’ve ever had.” Jenny cocked her head and regarded me. “Are you two together?”
“Yes.” It felt good to say that.
“I suggest you hold on tight,” Calvin said. “A lady who looks like that and has a tender heart, too? Her kind don’t come along more than once in a lifetime. Trust me, I know.” He smiled at Jenny then looked at me again. “So don’t screw it up.”
I took off after that conversation and called Betty from my truck. She and the other ladies had stopped for lunch. She stepped outside to take my call, something I could tell due to the sound of traffic and a whistled catcall that made me want to drive my truck through someone’s chest.
I did my best not to act on my emotions, but both my wolf and I were a tiny bit possessive of the woman.
“If it isn’t Mr. Magic Fingers,” she said. “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk. Gladys needed to eat something so her blood sugar didn’t do a nosedive.”
I pulled up in front of my father’s bar and turned off the truck. “She’s a wolf. All she’d have to do is shift and she’d be fine. Does she need a hand?” Gladys could shift on her own, but it went easier with a little help from me.
“To tell you the truth, I think she and Ida just wanted to get a table before the lunch crowd got here. Everything okay?”
“As okay as I can be without you lying beside me,” I said.
“ Whoa . Not that I don’t approve, but where did that come from?”
“I had a conversation with Calvin at Sy’s service. He said you were a once-in-a-lifetime woman, and I shouldn’t screw it up.”
She let out a sultry little laugh that brought everything male in me to attention. “He’s right on both counts.”
“I know. Your home burned down two weeks ago, and you still found the time to make charms for everyone living at the Desert Oasis Senior Apartments?”
“It wasn’t only me. Cecil and Fennel helped.”
“Definitely once-in-a-lifetime,” I said.
“Where are you?” The sound on the other end of the call shifted, telling me she’d switched ears. “Are you all right? Do you need me to come over?”
“If I say yes, would you let me give you a foreplay massage?”
“What a question to ask.”
“You said to tell you ahead of time.”
“I meant when we were in bed.” She laughed again, but this time it was a little higher, kind of nervous. “And the answer is yes. But it’ll have to wait until later. I promised to buy the first round of mimosas.”
We bantered a little longer then ended the call. She hadn’t seemed to notice that I didn’t tell her where I was. Or maybe she sensed I didn’t want to say and didn’t push.
Hard to tell with Betty.
The front door of the bar swung open, and Mason Hartman strolled out. He was still in his funeral clothes but had lost the suit jacket.
“Hurry up. He’s waiting.” He looked around. “Anyone know you’re here?”
Not a question people usually asked if their intentions were good, but I’d expected as much.
“Enough people that it would look bad if my body washed up in a ravine,” I replied.
I got out of the truck, tossed my own jacket onto the seat, and headed into Pallás Place.
This wasn’t unexpected. Since I’d announced that Betty and I were seeing each other, I’d anticipated a summons.
It was time to face my alpha.
I was more than ready.
Bring it on, Dad.
Thanks for reading!