Chapter 14
The Guardian Moon Festival was in full swing, Cloverton’s streets packed with tourists and locals alike celebrating the town’s most profitable weekend of the year.
Green streamers hung from every lamppost, wolf-shaped pastries filled bakery windows, and vendors hawked everything from carved wooden guardians to t-shirts proclaiming “I SURVIVED THE HOWLING IN CLOVERTON.”
If they only knew.
I adjusted my festival badge—“Dr. Eliot Byrne, Historical Consultant”—and made my way through the crowd toward the small stage where I was scheduled to give a talk on “The Historical Roots of Guardian Legends.” It was my third year giving this presentation, a carefully crafted blend of actual history and strategic omissions that satisfied academic rigor without revealing the furry truth living among them.
“Professor!” A voice called over the crowd. I turned to see Mal waving from The Lucky Hound’s festival booth, her pink hair now streaked with green for the occasion. “Raff’s looking for you!”
“Where is he?” I called back, checking my watch. My presentation was in thirty minutes, hardly time for one of Rafferty’s “urgent meetings” that inevitably led to rumpled clothing and rushed explanations.
“Town hall!” she replied with a knowing grin that suggested she understood exactly what I was thinking. “Says it’s important!”
That could mean anything from actual pack business to Rafferty wanting to steal a kiss in the coat closet. Either way, I had time to check before my talk.
The town hall had been transformed for the festival, its usually staid interior now festooned with green decorations and educational displays about the “mythical” Guardians.
I nodded to several townsfolk as I made my way through the building, my position as Rafferty’s partner and the local historian making me something of a minor celebrity in Cloverton.
I found Rafferty in the small anteroom behind the main hall, pacing nervously in the tailored suit he wore for official functions. After three years together, the sight of him still made my heart beat faster—all six-foot-four of barely contained energy and devastating good looks.
“There you are!” He stopped pacing, relief washing over his features. “I was about to send a search party.”
“I was exactly where I said I’d be,” I pointed out, straightening his slightly askew tie with practiced ease. “Setting up for my presentation. The one you insisted I give even though it’s our anniversary weekend.”
“About that.” He caught my hands, his expression suddenly serious. “There’s been a change of plans.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Rafferty, there are three hundred people expecting to hear about guardian mythology in twenty-five minutes.”
“I know, I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I rarely saw from him these days. As Alpha-in-training, he’d grown increasingly confident in his leadership role. “But something’s come up. Something important.”
My mind immediately went to pack business—perhaps another supernatural crisis like last year’s brief territorial dispute with a neighboring group, or the pixie infestation that had required all hands on deck.
“What’s happened?” I asked, already mentally rescheduling my presentation. “Do we need to call Siobhan? Kieran?”
“No, nothing like that.” He squeezed my hands. “It’s about us. You and me.”
Now I was concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. No. I mean—” He took a deep breath. “I had this all planned out. Dinner at L’Auberge tonight, the nice wine you like, romantic setting… but I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been carrying this around for a week and it’s driving me crazy.”
Before I could ask what “this” was, he reached into his pocket and dropped to one knee.
Oh.
Oh.
“Eliot.” His voice was steady now, green eyes locked on mine. “Three years ago, you walked into my pub to debunk a legend and ended up becoming part of it instead. You’ve embraced my world, my pack, all the weirdness that comes with loving someone who occasionally grows fur and howls at the moon.”
I couldn’t speak, throat suddenly tight with emotion.
“You’ve seen all of me—man and wolf—and loved both parts equally. You’ve taught me to be patient with tourists who ask stupid questions.” His lips quirked in a smile. “Well, more patient, anyway.”
I managed a watery laugh at that.
“You’re my balance, my anchor, my mate in every way that matters.” He opened the small box in his hand, revealing a platinum band inlaid with a thin line of polished wood. “The only thing missing is making it official in both human and Guardian traditions. Will you marry me, Professor?”
For a man who made his living with words, I found myself momentarily speechless. Three years of building a life together in this strange, wonderful town—learning its secrets, becoming part of its community, loving a man who defied scientific explanation—had led to this perfect moment.
“Yes,” I finally managed, my voice embarrassingly choked. “Of course, yes.”
Rafferty’s face lit up with that smile that still made my knees weak. He slid the ring onto my finger, then stood to pull me into an embrace that lifted me clear off the ground.
“Thank god,” he murmured against my hair. “I was worried you’d say it was illogical or something.”
I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. “There’s precedent for werewolf-human marriages. Statistically speaking, they appear quite successful.”
“Nerd,” he said fondly, setting me down to examine the ring on my finger. “The wood is from the oldest tree in the Guardian forest. The elders helped me harvest it during the last full moon. It’s tradition—connecting the human partner to pack territory.”
The significance made my throat tight again. “It’s perfect.”
He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “You’re perfect.”
“Hardly,” I scoffed, though I leaned into his touch. “I’m stubborn, obsessively detailed, and I still refuse to participate in the full moon hunts.”
“Perfect for me,” he clarified, bending to press his forehead against mine in the gesture that had become our private connection. “My mate.”
The term, once strange and foreign, now felt like coming home. “Your mate,” I agreed. “Though we still have the small matter of my presentation in—” I checked my watch. “—fifteen minutes.”
“About that.” His expression turned sheepish. “The presentation’s been canceled. Or rather, replaced.”
“Replaced? With what?”
“With an engagement announcement.” He grinned at my surprised expression. “The whole town’s been in on it. They’ve been waiting for me to finally pop the question for months.”
“The whole town?” I repeated incredulously. “Even Mrs. Hathaway?”
“Especially Mrs. Hathaway. Who do you think helped me pick the ring size? She got your measurements when you were trying on those white gloves for the archive restoration project.”
I shook my head, amazed at the conspiracy that had apparently been unfolding around me. For someone who prided himself on observation, I’d missed all the signs.
“So instead of talking about guardian mythology,” I said slowly, “we’re announcing our engagement to three hundred festival-goers?”
“And the pack elders, who are in the front row.” He looked slightly nervous again. “Is that okay? We can still do the presentation if you want. I just thought—”
I silenced him with a kiss. “It’s more than okay,” I assured him when we parted. “Though I’d like to point out this isn’t exactly keeping a low profile for the pack.”
“We’re getting married, not announcing I can turn into a wolf,” he countered. “Besides, public celebrations are great cover. Everyone’s too busy being happy for us to notice anything unusual.”
He had a point. Over the years, I’d learned that the pack hid in plain sight—using festivals, celebrations, and public events as cover for their more supernatural activities. A pack leader’s engagement was perfect camouflage for the increased Guardian presence in town this weekend.
“Well then,” I straightened his tie again, then my own shirt collar. “I suppose we should go make an announcement.”
Rafferty’s smile could have outshone the sun. “After you, future Mr. O’Sullivan-Byrne.”
“Byrne-O’Sullivan,” I corrected automatically. “Alphabetical order makes more sense.”
“We’ll negotiate,” he promised, taking my hand as we headed toward the main hall. “We have plenty of time.”
And we did. A lifetime, in fact—which for a Guardian and his human mate, promised to be quite the adventure.