Chapter 29 Mona
A nagging voice in my head says, You’re drunk.
“You’re drunk!” I retort, but my tongue feels a little big for my mouth, so it comes out more like, youwr drnk.
You can’t be trusted with substances, clearly.
“Why aren’t you drunk if I’m drunk?”
“What?” Andrea says from beside me, our bodies pressed together in the cramped UTV as her friend drives us home. “I am,” she confesses, distressed by that fact.
“Not you—Beep,” I clarify.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
Drunk people are deeply stupid. Isn’t she supposed to be your bodyguard? I can almost see Beep’s disapproving look as her voice cuts through my foggy brain.
“You mean you didn’t notice our shadows? We don't need bodyguards.”
Of course I did. I’m just saying, this is unprofessional.
“Oh, babe, I missed you so much,” I confess to Beep. The silence when she was gone felt like a wretched void, I’ve never felt so lost. Even when she’s being judgy, she’s just the best.
“Don’t be weird, Mona,” Andrea jabs me with her sharp elbow. I drape myself over her shoulders, but she tries to wiggle free. She’s sobering up faster than me. I plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
“I’m not talking to you, Andrea. I’m talking to Beep,” I explain, sighing into the warm night.
“Who’s Beep?” Emma, Andrea’s friend, chirps from the driver’s seat.
Andrea lets out a deep huff. “Oh, thank god,” she mutters as we pull up to my cabin.
My cabin. I live here!
I squeal and jump out before the UTV comes to a full stop, ignoring Andrea and Silas’s shouts.
“Relaaax, guys.” I wave goodbye to Andrea and Emma. My attention’s already on Silas—he followed us home in wolf form. Now he stands there, gloriously naked, arms outstretched, waiting for me.
He stalks toward me, proudly, so beautiful, resilient, and strong. Tall, muscular, riddled with a constellation of scars and tattoos that seem to glow in the darkness. And, you know, giant dick swinging from between his legs.
With one fluid motion, he scoops me up, calling to Andrea, “Thank you for today.”
She salutes him as they reverse and peel out of the driveway.
Nestled against him, I kick my feet playfully where they dangle over his forearm. “It’s nice being swept off my feet, being carried around. It’s not something I ever imagined I’d like when I was still human. Do a lot of men just carry their women around, or is it a wolf thing?”
“Can’t speak for human men. Their loss if they don’t treasure holding their women close. Why would I ever set you down when I could keep you right here?”
I let my head fall back with a laugh. “I can’t argue with that.”
His lips brush my temple as we step inside. “Did you have fun today?”
“Mmhmm.” Then the events of the day crash back into memory, and a laugh bubbles up from my chest. “Dude. Kendrick is my dad. Like, what is that?”
He groans. “I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve told you.”
I believe him. Silas isn’t like Grayson—he wouldn’t just obey Kendrick’s commands. After everything he’s been through, blind obedience isn’t in his nature. Maybe it never was.
I tilt my head back against his shoulder. “Hey, can we go out on the balcony? I want to see the stars.”
“Anything for you.” He carries me through the house and up the staircase.
On our way, we pass the den—Grayson and Orion hunched over a chess game.
My earlier anger hasn’t completely faded, though the alcohol blunted the sharpness of it.
But if I’ve learned anything over the past few months, it’s not to take anything for granted.
I can still be mad at them and want them close.
Without a word, they abandon their game and trail behind us up to the third floor.
I can feel their anxiety tinging their scent.
Grayson’s cinnamon sharpens with worry, and Orion’s hazelnut carries a burnt undertone.
A petty part of me is glad they’re anxious, but I don’t want my mates to feel shitty.
When we reach the room, I gesture toward the balcony. “Ghost should take this room. He can just jump off the railing whenever he wants to fly. Think he’d like that?”
Silas takes a seat on the bench outside. “You’re a sweet mate to think of him,” he says, settling me on his lap. His tone carries what he doesn’t say—that I’m thinking of someone who isn’t even here.
The mountains sprawl across the cliff in shadowy waves. Something tightens in my chest as I think about Ghost. “Well, shit,” I whisper, the truth crashing into me.
Not exactly a groundbreaking revelation, but at least you're aware of your hypocrisy, Beep comments dryly, while she follows my train of thought.
“Rude.”
“What?” Silas’s eyes meet mine, clearly puzzled.
Grayson hesitates before joining us on the bench, Orion choosing one of the Adirondack chairs. He positions himself close enough to touch me, but angled to face the view below.
“You guys, I’m so mad at you for not telling me about Kendrick. But Andrea was right—I kept something from you, too. Ghost is… well, he’s my mate. Except he basically called me a shit show and said that he has no intention of taking a mate,” I say with finger quotes. Wow, alcohol makes me ramble.
“Technically, I’m the one who called you a shit show,” Silas corrects.
I gasp and slap his firm chest. “That’s right! That was you!”
Silas pulls me closer, his lips brushing my neck. “My deepest apologies, mate. I wouldn’t trade this shit show for anything else in the world.”
I laugh.
Grayson’s shoulders drop as he visibly relaxes, then he reaches out and takes my foot in his hands. His thumb digs into my arch, which is a good start to an apology.
“About Ghost...” he says, kneading deeper. “We already knew. He told us. Showed us, really.”
So, not an apology. They knew about Ghost and didn’t tell me that either.
I think I should be mad, but I’m not. I just feel… sad.
Ghost will always be the missing piece.
“Did he tell you… does he still want to leave?”
Orion leans back in his chair. “I don’t think it’s that simple for him. But, to be fair, he didn’t say one way or another. He’s surprisingly efficient at evading topics.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I mutter. I stare at the darkened silhouette of the mountains for a moment before asking, “So… why didn’t you tell me about Kendrick?”
No one jumps to answer right away. Then Orion shifts in his seat. “He asked us not to say anything yet. And honestly, with everything else happening, I thought you were dealing with enough already.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since he arrived, right after you were taken. He took one step inside the cabin and knew. Andrea and Eli only knew because they overheard him call you his daughter.”
It feels weird to know we’re related. I don’t think of Kendrick as a father—I mean, how could I? I don’t even know the man. He’s been gone all my life.
I have questions. A lot of them. But I want to ask him, not the guys. I want to know if I have a mother out there. Where he’s been, why I grew up with Paulie fucking Gresser as a father figure.
The wolfsbane alcohol is burning off even faster now. That weight of the world, the one I felt earlier, feels heavier now. Like a boulder sitting on my chest.
As if he can sense it—to be fair, through the bond, he probably can—Silas hugs me closer, letting his purr rumble softly against my shoulder.
He mutters, “You know, Deidre said you were the daughter of the most powerful shifter. I probably should have put two and two together, but my head was just… busy. I should have told you that, though, and we could have figured it out sooner, together.”
I smile into him. “It’s okay, Silas. It doesn’t matter now.” My fingers trace the jagged scar on his hand, a pale distortion cutting through the midnight ink of the wolf silhouette tattoo.
His anxiety spikes the more attention I draw to it, his purr coming out in choppy bursts like a stalling engine.
He tries so hard to be normal. Tries to pretend he’s okay, like that haunted look in his green eyes isn’t there.
Turning in his arms, I frame his stubbled face with my hands, feeling the nerves and heat radiate from his skin.
My thumbs brush over his high cheekbones, fingers digging softly around his ears. “I love you, Silas.”
It shouldn’t be a shock, yet he acts like it is. Emotions pass over his face—like always, smoke behind glass, constant and unsettled—unease, joy. And love, warm as honey. He leans in and our lips brush in the barest of kisses.
“I love you too, Mona,” he whispers against my lips.
When he pulls away, I turn again, this time climbing awkwardly into Grayson’s lap, forgetting momentarily that Silas is still naked, though none of the guys seem to notice or care. Gray tugs me faster than I move, his calloused hands firm on my waist, and I land against his hard body.
“I don’t want to be mad at you.”
He sighs. And because Grayson just can’t help himself, he says tightly, “We did what we thought was best for you. I won’t apologize for making decisions on your behalf, even if that upsets you.”
I’m still just buzzed enough to laugh. “Why do you have to ruin it?”
He grumbles under his breath, but I grip his ears, less adoringly than I did to Silas. “Grayson, the man is my father. I mean, my fucking father. You should have told me.”
He squirms as much as a man as dominant and large as he can. “My job is to keep you safe—”
I cut him off before he buries himself too deep. “Grayson, your job is to lead the clan. I respect your authority there, I’m not standing in the way of that. But in our relationship, in this pack, we are equals. I don’t defer to you. I’m not one of your subordinates, you're not the boss of me.”
I watch his face, waiting longer than I’d like for the pieces to click into place. Then his expression shifts, the stubborn set of his jaw softening. “I’m sorry, Mona. I should have—you’re right. I’m used to making unilateral decisions.”
“I know. And it’s okay. It was a really big thing not to tell me that. But I’m really fucking pissed at Kendrick, too, so I’ll save my rage for him.”
Something rough and possessive rumbles in his chest before he leans in, claiming my mouth with his, hungry and insistent, his tongue sliding against my own.
I break the kiss, and he catches my lower lip between his teeth, just hard enough to make me shiver.
“Later,” I tease.
I slide off Grayson’s lap to find Orion waiting, arms open, a hesitant grin on his beautiful face. He pulls me close, his beard tickling my temple, the scent of chocolate hazelnut rising from his skin.
“Orion, honey,” I whisper against his chest.
“Hmm?”
“I was mad, I’m over it, blah blah blah, don’t do it again.”
He shakes with laughter and squeezes me tighter. “How did I get so fucking lucky to get a mate like you?”
I shrug. “You’ve been blessed.”
Silas laughs sharply, and while I shoot him a glare, he smirks unapologetically and says, “You sure are blessed, mate.” His eyes drop to my chest.
I roll my eyes, but my poor, gentle mate in my arms is still nervous. Orion says, “So we’re okay?”
“We’re okay. I didn’t tell you about Ghost, you didn’t tell me about Kendrick.”
“No more secrets.”
“No more secrets,” I agree, not realizing, by this time tomorrow, I’d have already broken that promise.