32. Ava #3
I bit my bottom lip, debating whether I would be good and keep Lycan’s surprise, or whether I wanted to earn a few spankings from my sir.
When I’d first opened Lycan’s gift, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as I had.
The silky, sexy lingerie—sure. But the specific instructions afterward?
No. But I’d done it anyway because he told me to, because it gave me something to do and quieted the pre-mating jitters in my mind.
Was it perfect? Not a chance. But Lycan would appreciate me following orders, and Poe would love it because of what it meant.
“I can’t tell you,” I said, resisting a laugh at his narrowed eyes. “I would…but I’ve just sworn an oath, you see. I won’t choose one of you over the other. If you want your present, you’ll have to convince him.”
I sensed Poe about to argue with me, so I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and stood, deciding to get some fresh air.
I walked outside and hugged myself, listening to the animals settle in for the night.
A donkey brayed in the background, and the cows mooed from the barn.
Squirrels scurried through the trees, and toads called out to their mates.
I inhaled the first scents of autumn, the dying leaves and the crisp frost in the air.
“I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” Sol said as she came up next to me. I wrapped an arm around her waist and held her closer, tucking my head against her shoulder.
“Just taking a moment to memorize all of this,” I said.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? This family. This land. This pack.” Sol hugged me back.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gotten all sentimental now,” Guin said, walking up behind us. “Freshly mated and already crying over nothing.”
I laughed. “Come talk to me when you get mated. See how you feel.”
Guin scoffed and sipped her champagne. “That’ll never happen.”
I shot a glance at Sol.
“She thinks she’s above mating,” Sol explained. “No male will ever rule her life.”
“Ah.” I shared a conspiratorial look with my little sister. In the weeks since we’d been home, I saw the way Guin and Kodiak interacted. She was the only one who stood up to him, who talked to him like he was scum on her shoes. And for some reason, he put up with it. Dare I even say he liked it?
“Gods, that’s a wild party, huh?” Maeve sauntered up to the other side of Sol and threw her arm around her shoulders. “I bet Aquila, Nix, and Kemper are heading for a hookup.”
“Maeve!” I shoved her arm in playful rebuke. “Don’t be gross.”
“Oh, please.” Maeve rolled her eyes. “You’re the one to talk. Lycan and Poe run a train on you every night, and now everyone knows it. You want to talk to me about propriety? Hypocrite.”
“Can we please stop talking about Ava’s sex life?” Sol said with a laugh.
“Yes, please,” I added.
“How did I end up in a family full of prudes?” Maeve shook her head and sipped from a glass of whiskey. “Guess I’m the black sheep, as always.”
“No, you take after me,” Guin said.
A heartbeat of silence went by, the three of us shocked and surprised our eldest sister, the ice bitch herself, would admit such a thing. Then we burst out laughing, Guin included.
“Guin, you little slut,” Maeve teased. “Who are you hooking up with? Is it Kodiak? Please say Kodiak.”
“Ugh, never in a million years.” Guin sighed and took another drink. “Let’s just say I had an adventurous youth right after I transitioned. I wasn’t invited to the Bastards’ homestead, but there were some advantages to having a dorm full of ranch hands in the backyard.”
Maeve and Guin exchanged a look, something old and complicated mixed in with it. Mill had helped Guin through her transition seventeen years ago, back when he was a day worker called Van. Then he’d mated Maeve, and there seemed to be no hard feelings between any of them.
Our giggles turned into hysterics, and I grabbed Guin’s waist to pull her into our sister group hug.
When we quieted, we stared at the treeline, and I forced myself to memorize this moment, too—this connection between the four of us.
Being so much older than us, Guin had always felt separate from me, Maeve, and Sol.
She became the adoptive parent, the caretaker, the one who had to step up when everything fell apart.
But now, basking in the night and the scent of pack, we were unified. Together. Equal.
“You think she’s out there?” Sol asked. She didn’t explain who she was, but she didn’t have to. We all understood.
“I do,” I said. “I don’t think I would have had those dreams if she was dead.”
“Bridge said the memories could have come from your blood, that you inherited them,” Guin said.
“There’s this feeling in my gut,” I explained. “My wolf knows. Just like it knows you three are here.”
“I feel it, too,” Maeve added.
Rustling caught our attention from the treeline. We froze. I narrowed my eyes at the small, lithe figure that emerged from the shadows. Burnt orange. Glowing green eyes. A white, fluffy tail.
Recognition burst inside my chest, humming with the same connection I felt to my sisters.
It couldn’t be…could it?
Sol gasped, and Maeve held her breath. Guin took a step forward.
The fox looked between the four of us, blinked, and took off back into the woods.
“Wait!” I called after it.
But it was too fast for me to chase, and by the time I got to where it once stood, I’d lost its scent.
And the moment passed.