Epilogue
Does this mean a sibling for Gus?
Maybe, but as long as Mother is happy, Gus is happy.
And Mother is very Happy with the good wolf.
— gus
Thanksgiving is a shifter’s dream holiday. A day full of food and family, community and gratitude… what can be better?
Oh. I know. A Claiming Ceremony.
Opossum shifters have it easy. When we decide someone is our mate, we mark them, we fuck them, we mate them. Both mates have to go into it choosing each other, but as soon as the claiming is done, a bond snaps into place, and boom: we’re forever mates.
Wolves are a little more complicated, especially when your mate is the Alpha. First, you need the Luna’s blessing. Second, you need to mate on the night that she’s full—like tonight. And third, if you’re not already marked, you better be by the time you finish.
As Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack, Max hosted a feast for all of Moonburrow.
As my mate, he decided that he wouldn’t wait until the next time the Luna rose—during the next full moon—to finalize our bond.
That’s why, once the dessert had been served and the sun had set, our entire community gathered in the woods outside of the Alpha cabin to celebrate the first stages of an Alpha Claiming Ceremony.
Over our heads, the moon over Moonburrow hangs low and full, heavy with a gleaming pale light that spills over the clearing like melted sugar.
The wolves stand in a wide semicircle, their fur silvered, eyes reflecting the glow of their beloved goddess.
The prey shifters and witches who joined us have gathered along the edge; not out of fear, but respect.
Even Gus sits on a stump like a little king, tail curled around his paws, supervising.
At the center of it all, Max takes my hand.
He’s not in his version of his sheriff’s uniform tonight. No jeans, no badge, just a white t-shirt rolled up at the sleeves, black slacks, and a faint nervous twitch in his jaw that only I can see.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
I nod, even though my stomach is doing somersaults. “You sure you want to tie yourself to an opossum?”
He smiles that slow, dangerous smile that gets me in trouble every time. “You sure you want to spend your life keeping with a possessive, overprotective wolf?”
“Fair point.” I needle him in the side. “Maybe I should change my mind.”
Max turns, cupping my jaw in his big paw.
“Too late, Killer. I caught you. You’re mine.
I’m a good male, Honey. A fair sheriff and an understanding Alpha.
” He banished all of those who followed Leo Holloway out of Moonburrow.
Shifter justice was definitely an eye for an eye.
Declan died. Abigail. Both Leo and Talia Winters were gone by the time Max finished dishing out supe justice, but everyone else…
they got a second chance, thanks to Max.
“But if you leave me now, there’s no limit to what I’ll do to get you back. ”
I lean into his touch. “As if I’d actually go. Please. In fact, let’s hurry this up. I want this bond unbreakable before you change your mind.”
“Never gonna happen, Honey,” he vows, but he does gesture at his brother.
We don’t have weddings. It’s not a shifter thing. We mate, and we love, and we sometimes have children, but weddings belong to the humans. However, it’s a different story when your mate is the Alpha. Their Ceremony is a big deal because it’s his way of introducing his mate to the entire pack.
Riordan clears his throat behind us, playing officiant for us.
“Under Luna’s light,” he says, voice steady, “we recognize this bond as true and fated. Chosen by instinct, strengthened by choice...”
Max takes my hand, squeezing it. “You sure you’re not going to faint?” he whispers.
“I only play dead for dramatic effect,” I whisper back. “And not anymore. Not while you’re around.”
He lifts our conjoined hands, dropping a kiss to the top of mine. “All the more reason for you to accept me as your male.”
I snicker. “I thought I did that.”
And have done it again and again and, whoops, one more time for good luck in between the salad course and the first round of sides earlier today.
“Choose me, Honey,” Max murmurs. “The Luna has already given us her blessing. Choose me.”
I look over at Riordan. This isn’t a human wedding, but there are no two better words for me to say at this moment than, “I do.”
The wolves in the pack howl, a rolling, joyous sound that echoes through the trees and makes every hair on my arms stand up. The prey shifters join in, chittering and squealing and laughing while the witches clap their approval.
Max bends his head close. “Mine,” he says quietly, the word more vow than claim.
“Yours,” I whisper. “But you’re mine, too.”
He laughs low in his throat before kissing me under the full moon, surrounded by our pack.
His family is here. Mine… isn’t. That was on purpose.
I love Max and I want to spend the rest of my life with him.
Once my mother knows I’m marked and mated and bonded, she’ll understand that I was never going to end up with an opossum.
Dad won’t care as long as I’m happy.
And Grandma Jean… well, as long as I keep Dough You Believe in Magic running—which I definitely plan on continuing to do like I have been since we solved the murders—she’ll be just as ticked as Dad.
For now, though, I need to get to the whole ‘marked and mated and bonded’ part.
I already have my mating mark. Max couldn’t wait.
He meant it when he implied that he would never let me go.
He’s right. He’s a good male. If I really wanted to leave him, he’d be heartbroken, but he’d let me go if it’s what I wanted.
The first time we mated, he honestly convinced myself that he would never get the chance to do it again.
Of course, we night be a wolf and an opossum, but we’ve been going at it like bunnies in the time since we solved the murders.
Our second time, Max scraped his fangs over the curve of my shoulder, leaving a pair of thin lines that scabbed over immediately.
I kept them, and the look on Max’s face when he saw that I kept them on purpose…
I didn’t have to tell him that I chose him and accepted him as my make.
Anytime he trailed his fingers along the thin white scars, he has all the proof he needs right now.
Well, except for a finalized bond between us…
Leaving our packmates to celebrate in the woods, Max takes my hand, guiding me back to the Alpha cabin.
It’s only been a couple of weeks, but in the short time since I’ve moved here—protective custody becoming permanent custody real quick—it’s stopped being Max’s territory and started to become ours.
For the most part, Gus has officially defected to Riordan’s side.
He sleeps on the Beta’s desk in the sheriff’s station these days when he isn’t coming to the bakery with me, tiny paws resting on Riordan’s notebook.
Riordan swears he’s only keeping him company while I’m working to satisfy all the new customers who want to meet the Alpha’s mate, but I’m pretty sure he’s been bribing him with watermelon.
It’s fine. Max and I have had plenty of other distractions.
Our mating dance was unique. Most shifters recognize their mate and, almost immediately, finalize their bond.
Not us. My whole ‘fake it ‘til you mate it’ plan coupled with Riordan’s accidental order might’ve given us a slow start, but we’ve more than made up for it since then.
Nowadays, we’re in the early honeymoon phase of long-lived mating.
If Gus would prefer to stay with the very single Riordan over listening to me and Max mate most nights.
Ever since the night he claimed me in front of the pack, we’ve shared his room. He goes to the sheriff’s office every morning unless he’s needed in the den; I open the bakery at dawn. But every night, this cabin is ours.
The bakery is mine. The room above it? I’ve emptied it of everything I brought with me from Glenville. For now, it’s just extra space. I’m hoping to hire an assistant at the bakery, maybe offer them the room as part of their salary. If not that, there’s always Ashton.
I’m sure my cousin would jump for an excuse to get out of Onancock if Aunt Tessa is treating him anything like my Mom treats me. Who knows? Moonburrow could use another Morgan.
But not tonight.
Tonight is for Max and me, for the night where we pledge ourselves to each other with the Luna our only witness.
Max stands by the window, shirt gone, slacks gone, moonlight sliding over his skin. I look him over, trying to figure out where I’m going to leave my mark on him tonight.
He turns toward me, eyes burning like molten lava. “You ready, Killer?”
The nickname hits softer now. A promise that he’ll do whatever he can to see me alive… jeez, I fucking love him.
I move toward the bed. I wore a light pink slip of a dress to our Claiming Ceremony. I’d traded my sweater and jeans and boots for it after dessert because a) it was pretty, and b) I got it for ten bucks. “Almost.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Almost?”
“Sit down, Max.”
My powerful Alpha mate has a secret kink.
He loves it when I tell him what to do in the bedroom.
I guess, when he’s spent his whole adult life as a dominant wolf shifter, he got used to always being in control.
Giving it to me, letting me tell him what to do in the privacy of our mating bed… nothing gets him hot faster.
In fact, he groans as he sinks down on the bed, beautiful and naked and mine.
I don’t undress. Not yet. I lower myself between his thighs, stroking his cock absently as I bite the corner of my mouth in deep concentration.
His eyes just about roll to the back of his head. “What… unh… what are you doing? Because I’m primed to explode, Honey, and this is our mating night. I’m not exploding anywhere but in my mate.”
“I know,” I say simply, punctuating my statement with a twist of my wrist. He grits his teeth. I grin angelically. “I’m just trying to figure out where I’m going to mark you tonight. Any suggestions?”
“Anywhere,” he pants out. “I want all of Moonburrow to know that I’m yours.”
Trust me, Max. They already do.
Before I can pick, he lifts up his hand. His hips shift, giving me better access to his erection, though he draws my attention to the small white scar on his finger.
“Remember when I said how this is a reminder?”
It’s the bite that Gus gave him. “I do.”
“It is. It reminds me how far Gus was willing to go to protect you. You’re the most important person in his life. I’m an Alpha, and he bit me for you. If a wild opossum could do that, there’s no limits to what I’ll do to keep you safe. When you mark me tonight, Killer, I’ll have another reminder.”
I squeeze him a little tighter. It’s only fair, the way his solemn, grunted words are squeezing my heart right now. “Oh, yeah? And what will that one mean?”
“That I’ve pledged my life to a wayward opossum with magic.
I’ll be there to catch her if she drops, and to watch over her if she ever dies on my watch.
But only if it’s her… what did you call it?
A genetic disposition? Because, I promise you this, Honey Lobo, that playing dead is the closest you’ll get to the real thing.
As long as there is breath in my body, you’ll be safe. I won’t let you die.”
I gasp, releasing Max so suddenly, his cock jerks, searching for the warmth of my hand.
And then, because I’m me, I have one thing to say to that.
“I’m not Honey Lobo,” I whisper. “Not yet.”
Max reaches out, palming one of my boobs through my dress. “Come here. Once we’re bonded, you will be.”
I dance out of his reach. “Hang on.”
“Honey…”
Nope. This is the Alpha’s Claiming Ceremony, but this is my mating night, too—and I’ve been waiting months to make Max Lobo mine.
To make him ours.
In a flash, my dress basically exploding off my body, sending pink confetti flying onto the mattress, Max’s lap, the floor…
in a flash, I shift. My body shrinking, fur bristling, I’m suddenly the small, fierce thing I truly am.
My opossum form scurries up his chest until I’m perched right over his heart.
As though he can tell what my intentions are, my Alpha wolf mate tilts his head back. I bite down on his chest.
The moment my fangs pierce skin, an unusual if pleasant warmth floods through me. He tastes of blood and hope and tomorrow, and I bite again, creating an image of a heart with my teeth.
Max’s breath catches, but he doesn’t flinch.
When I shift back, I’m exactly where I want to be: naked and on Max’s lap. My hungry mate doesn’t even hesitate.
His eyes darken, hunger and awe warring in the same look. “My turn,” he murmurs, pulling me closer, shifting me until our groins touch. One quick lift, easy for a shifter as strong as my Alpha, he seats me on top of his cock.
It’s our mating night. The rest is slow and sure. His hands, his mouth, his whispered promises that this is forever, that he loves me, that he’ll always protect me.
Ditto, Max. Ditto.
The bond finalizes like a rubber band snapping in place between us. Afterward, we stay tangled together as he guides us both backward, my head on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath the mark I left there.
Outside, the forest is quiet. Peaceful. Our pack is content.
Moonburrow is safe.
No more murders, I think, snuggling up to my bonded mate. No more poison.
No more betrayal, secrets, or lies.
Just a happily ever after, some sweet treats, and a wily opossum named Gus.
What could be better?