27
Elise
I will admit I am far drunker at my second wedding than I was at my first. The evening is a blur.
“Uh, hey, guys,” Shawn said as he gathered the remaining guests, his extended family. “So, um, a lot’s happened, in the last day or so. I know some of you guys were invited to see my little brother get married; he’s a little indisposed at the moment. I guess we’re going to have to reschedule that one. But uh . . . we’re still going to have a party. There’s lots of food, please, enjoy yourselves.”
Laura said the Carringtons are upset, to be sure. Apparently, Deanna tried to smooth things over the best she could, but Logan will have to make things right with them when he comes back. But that’s something to worry about another day.
We got cleaned up and Laura pre-heated the ovens for the food that never made it out yesterday. Something to do with the caterer sprinting off into the woods, leaving the couple of waitstaff I’d hired for the day to flounder and pass out the hors d’oeuvres that they did have. I’m going to have to email them an apology, but it’s going to wait just a bit.
My vows might have consisted of wiggling my eyebrows and giggling, “Round two, baby!”
It was worth it to see Shawn try so hard not to laugh, and ultimately fail.
Not all of his relatives stayed, in fact the older lady who gave me the stink eye earlier made it very clear she was leaving. Everyone who remained at the house is still pretty toasted. Aiden mentioned something about werewolf weddings and funerals, that the aconite consumption does need to be some next level shit to pacify the inner wolves.
Deanna is at least a little wine drunk, but maybe that helped, because she’s given me a number of hugs and said that I’m her favorite daughter-in-law. Which, honestly, kicks ass, even if I’m the only one.
I think she and Shawn might even be on somewhat better terms now, because immediately after, she flicked him on the forehead and only said, “Grandbabies.”
“Considering that Mom’s not giving me shit for the whole ex-wife thing”—Shawn shrugs, rubbing his forehead—“it’s an improvement. And you don’t need to worry about the grandbabies thing, we don’t need to—I’ll ask her not to—”
“It’s fine, really, Shawn.”
Even if it’s still rocky between some of us, I’m happier than I’ve been in such a long time. I have a family with Shawn, Deanna, Laura, Aiden, and, whenever he gets back, Logan too. I’ve never had such a big family before or felt like I was at the center of it.
Laura has also gotten very wine drunk with me and is apologizing to me for getting carried away at the bar during the stag night that feels so distant now, and in the same breath giggling about the mystical tit-jobs line again. We’re never going to hear the end of that.
I look for Ava, but apparently Laura’s friend ended up leaving early; it sounds like Logan said something that pissed her off. I’m honestly not surprised, considering what I saw pass between them yesterday.
The only thing that feels amiss tonight is that Logan isn’t here. Shawn said it was better that he got some space after that fight. It wasn’t just the full moon’s frantic energy agitating them, clearly there were some deep-seated issues that they needed to talk about.
But there’s going to be time for them to figure it out, now that Shawn’s going to stay in Mystic Falls. I’m really happy he’s going to have the time.
Shawn drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. He nuzzles and kisses the crook of my neck, and it makes everything in me feel complete.
“We should probably wrap things up soon,” he murmurs into my skin.
“Tonight’s not going to be like last night, right?” I ask, and, as he starts to shake his head, I have to add on, “You guys weren’t going to go feral, were you?”
Everyone I’ve heard use that word this week has all but whispered it, grimacing around it like the very thought was repulsive.
His expression softens as he sees the trepidation in my expression. He shrugs, as if to say he doesn’t really know either.
“I have you, and that is worth making sure it doesn’t happen.”
I glance at the woods again. Shawn’s hand traces soothing shapes along my arm.
“He had enough of himself to choose to stop fighting me, I think he’ll be fine. Besides, what you saw wasn’t even that bad. Logan and me have done worse to each other before,” he says, and I frown at him, because that’s not reassuring in the least.
He catches my expression and rolls his eyes a little. “I can tell you didn’t grow up with brothers because no one your age tried to murder you constantly throughout your entire childhood.”
Before I can point out I do have stepsiblings, Aiden follows up with, “Elise, I can just tell you’ve never tried to reenact a Dragon Ball Z fight and then been sworn to secrecy about how Shawn broke his nose. It’s in your aura.”
Huh. I had just assumed it was naturally crooked.
“Yeah, alright, maybe.” I nod, briefly glad I didn’t grow up with siblings. At least, I’m glad to have siblings-in-pack when they’re past the roughhousing stage. I hope.
Shawn shoves lightly at Aiden’s shoulder. “Just because the statute of limitations is up, doesn’t mean we need to tell people about it.”
“The baby picture book is coming out first thing tomorrow morning,” is all Aiden bothers to reply, wearing a shit-eating grin.
–
The night is winding down, and most of the relatives have left. Evening creeps in, first with fireflies, cool humid air, and sunset around the horizon’s edges. I can see the wolfish shifts starting to light the edges of my new family, Laura’s teeth are a little longer, Aiden’s ears a little more pointed and tipped with fur. Deanna has started going around to the others and saying her goodnights.
It feels good in an exhausted sort of way. It feels utterly different from yesterday, when the energy of the crowd was tense and on edge. Everyone is much more relaxed.
The full moon lasts only one night technically, but I’m trying to think of an innocuous way to ask if we might have a repeat of last night, or is that only when it’s at its peak? Just curious, of course; there’s no particular reason.
The follow up question to that is if I can plausibly sneak off into the woods again with my mate, and I think I will never get tired of calling Shawn that. I’m working on figuring out how I want to ask it when Aiden knocks a playful shoulder into Laura’s.
“Oh, you wanna do a howl? It’s been forever.”
My eyes widen as I look at all of them. There’s still so much I don’t know, but I’m excited to learn. I nudge Shawn and ask, “You guys actually howl?”
“Yeah, I’ve been practicing too,” Aiden says, before taking a few steps back, the fur on his ears bristling before he opens his mouth. It sounds like an actual howl, not a human imitating one, but there’s clearly an extra element of control. The effect is almost musical, how smooth it carries his voice on the air.
And then it hits me that I’ve definitely heard this sound and this song before.
“It was YOU,” I blurt out a little too accusatorily, cutting him off. He looks at me in surprise. “I thought I was going crazy this week, hearing a wolf howling Bohemian-FUCKING-Rhapsody. God, I never would have thought the answer to that one was lycanthropy.”
Aiden snorts and leans into my side conspiratorially. He takes in a breath, clearly about to explain something else to me, probably about how he likes to freak out hikers with this little talent, when his head jerks towards the woods.
I turn my head too, and after a moment, spot Logan coming out of the woods. His clothes are pretty torn and dirty. He looks a little dazed and vacant as he approaches and stops at the edge of the party.
“Hey, man, what happened?” Laura calls out, pretty much the same time as Aiden yells, “DUDE, YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHO GOT REMARRIED!”
“Well, when you phrase it like that, there’s not that many options present,” Laura huffs, giving Aiden a shove. “Also, maybe we don’t lead with that.”
Shawn lets go of me, pausing only to press a kiss to my temple. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, and I squeeze his hand before he jogs over to where Logan stands, under the shadow of the woods.
–
Logan barely registers my presence until I get close to him, and he glances up. He’s always had a little bit of a gaunt look to him, but it used to be because he wore eyeliner in high school and dyed his hair. Now it looks like it’s natural to him.
“You were gone a long while,” I say, dropping a hand on his shoulder, and he sways with the impact. Executive decision to not lead with the wedding thing. I’m just glad he came back. We can figure out our differences after the full moon is a little further away in the calendar.
“I . . . couldn’t figure out how to turn back. I just kept running, and then it’s hazy,” he mutters. His words lance through me. I put an arm around his back and try not to show too much of the panic and concern they inspire.
“It’s over, the worst of it’s passed,” I say, scratching his back in a way that probably betrays my frantic thoughts more than it is comforting. “Hey, man. I’m sorry. Things were heated.”
It’s not the apology he deserves, but it’s a start. We have a lot to work on.
“I’m tired. I don’t care about it anymore.” He sighs, defeated. I know he doesn’t mean it. But I know what it is to be so tired you feel like giving up.
It’s been an extremely long day and night. I hate to think that he’s in for another one.
I bite my tongue on any further comment about our argument. It’s too raw right now. We don’t need to open that up right away. It’s probably best to wait till the moon wanes some more.
I start to lead him back to the house, when he stumbles. Logan puts a hand to his temple, wincing. There’s some pretty gnarly bruising on his ribcage too, I notice through the tatters of his shirt.
“Jeez, you pick a fight with someone else?”
“Not that I remember,” he says, but as we step into the light and he looks at me, I can see there’s blood in his teeth.
I stop abruptly, immediately inspecting and pulling back his cheek. I half-expect to find he’s broken a tooth or got a scrap of fur from chewing on a squirrel, but all I see is the blood, the way it coats his teeth in red.
“Dude, stop, stop,” he tries to say, but doesn’t resist more than that.
“I think you’re bleeding in your mouth,” I tell him, and he frowns at me.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he says, batting my hands away. I watch as he massages the other side of his jaw, wincing again. He reaches in and after a moment, pulls a scrap of something out. He holds it out in his palm, staring blankly.
It’s one of those little corsage things, or what’s left of it. It’s really just a knotted bit of bloody lace and a couple leaves still tied together, and another piece of fabric skewered through the pin. I vaguely remember Laura’s friend carrying a box of those around, asking if anyone in the wedding party didn’t have one yet.
My hand reaches up and pats over my shirt, finding the one I got before. I still have mine, so he must have bitten that off someone else.
“Is that yours?”
He’s not wearing one, but I’m not sure if he ever was. He shakes his head a little. He tries at first to put it in his pocket, before realizing that his pockets are pretty slashed up and not great for storage. He shrugs and pins it through part of his sleeve, twisting the end closed, like that’s not gross as hell.
“Guess it is now,” he mutters, and levels me with that look of, “We’re not going to talk about this.”
I grit my teeth, but don’t push it. Sooner rather than later, we’re going to have to confront that Logan definitely bit someone last night.