CHAPTER 3 #2
I kept a wide berth of him as we continued walking.
“You don’t have to break up with your fiancée,” I said.
“There are all sorts of mated bonds. A lot are romantic in nature, but some end up being mostly political, much like the way your family is used to doing things. Others can be as simple as friendship or companionship, like my grandmother and her mate, Hank. They were widowed before joining the ceremony a few years back. There’s nothing to say we won’t settle into a role like that.
It wouldn’t prevent you from marrying her. ”
Michael shook his head. “Marlena is… particular. Though she falls short of being a true believer, she does put stock in signs. When I inform her of my bond to you, she’ll take it to mean that she and I aren’t destined to be together after all.
I will, of course, leave the decision to her, but I believe that I know her well enough to be certain of the outcome. ”
What a fucking mess. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I, for what it’s worth,” he said. “You elected to abstain from the ritual, therefore I assume it’s safe to say that this development is less than welcome to you as well?”
“Yeah. You could say that.”
His phone rang from somewhere around his middle. He fished it out of an inner pocket and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this.”
“No problem.”
“Hello, Mother,” he said.
Werewolf hearing meant her response came through crystal clear. “Tell me your brother isn’t mated to some backwoods hillbilly hayseed.”
Well. She seemed nice.
“I assure you, Mother, Sarah is a perfectly civilized young lady. She even has most of her teeth.” If not for the small flare of amusement that came through the bond, I would have thought he was serious.
“Now isn’t the time for your macabre sense of humor,” his mother growled. “Honestly, Michael, how could you go along with this insanity?”
“He is my brother. I would support him in any endeavor. Isn’t that what you raised us to do?”
“Don’t throw my own words back at me,” she said, voice cracking like a whip. “What time will you be home tonight?”
“We have been…” Michael glanced over at me. “Delayed. Expect me home tomorrow.”
She made a sound of disgust, and then the line went dead. What kind of a mother hung up on their kid without so much as saying goodbye?
Michael slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Please, forgive her. Nathaniel’s decision has left her rattled.”
I glanced over at him. “Can’t wait to see how she reacts to your news.”
“The word catastrophic comes to mind.”
I laughed.
He didn’t. Not even a trace of humor played about his lips.
Shit. He was serious.
I spent the next several minutes battling back the tide of anxiety that threatened to drag me out to sea. We emerged from the path to see that his Range Rover was already gone from the parking lot, and I hoped his brother was faring better than we were.
“It’s open,” I told him when we reached my truck.
We climbed in and shut the doors. Michael’s scent quickly filled the cabin, much stronger than the smell of any other werewolf I’d met, testosterone and musk and maleness combining in a unique way that was all his own.
“Do the windows roll down?” he asked, leaning away from me.
I jammed the key in the ignition and turned it, and the engine thundered to life. I don’t know who was faster reaching for the window control, him or me.
“I don’t smell,” I said. “The bond just makes us hypersensitive to each other’s scents.”
He stared at me, silent. In my head, he felt a little freaked out. Good. About time he caught up to the rest of the class.
I put the truck in drive and pulled out of my parking space.
The trip to my parents’ house was a short and quiet one.
Our pack’s land extended across two mountain ridges, and its members made their homes in the limited space of the valley between them.
The warm summer night was cloudless. At this altitude, the stars looked close enough that I could reach out and pluck them from the deep expanse of black they were nestled in. Like diamonds on a jeweler’s cloth.
My gaze went to the moon. Why? I asked Her.
She remained silent.
Ten awkwardly silent minutes later, I pulled into my parents’ driveway, where I cut the engine and turned toward Michael.
“I’m sorry if they say anything to insult you.
They’re not great with surprises, and they’re both smart-asses by nature.
The fact that I didn’t tell them I was going to the ceremony will annoy them.
The fact that, regardless of the circumstances, they missed my bonding might break their hearts a little. ”
He nodded. “I understand. You can trust me to keep my composure.”
Weirdly, I did.
We got out of the truck, and I led him up to my parents’ front door.
“Mom? Dad?” I called as we walked inside.
“We’re in the kitchen, honey!” Mom yelled back.
I found them sitting on barstools at the kitchen island.
Mom held a glass of wine, Dad a beer. Mom wore one of her favorite summer dresses, Dad a new pair of jeans and a nice button-down.
Their cheeks were rosy, like these weren’t their first drinks of the night, and belatedly I remembered that they’d gone on a date to celebrate my mom’s new promotion.
“I’m guessing no one’s told you yet,” I said by way of greeting.
“Told us what?” Mom asked, looking past me to Michael. “And who’s this handsome young man?”
I stood aside and made the introductions. “Mom, Dad, this is Michael Kolbeck. Michael, these are my parents, Christina and Jonathan Fitzpatrick.”
Mom’s face fell when she heard his name. “Please, call me Chris.”
“Jon,” Dad said, eyeing Michael.
They stepped forward to shake each other’s hands and exchange pleasantries, and I watched Michael do the thing that people always did when they saw the three of us together for the first time.
His gaze ran over my mom, a woman of Japanese descent with thin, bone-straight black hair and hooded eyes, and then my father, a towering, blond Scandinavian man with blindingly white skin and blue eyes, before coming to rest on me, trying to determine where my facial features and olive complexion had come from.
He’d have to wait to hear my whole life story. First, we had to get through the next few hours.
Dad pulled out one of the kitchen barstools for Michael. “What brings you up here? Tonight’s ceremony?”
“Thank you,” Michael said, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he accepted the chair and sat. “And yes. I was in attendance supporting my younger brother, Nathaniel.”
“How’d the two of you meet?” Mom asked, looking between us. Dad retook his seat, but she remained standing, the look on her face uneasy as her mom instincts kicked in. She lifted her chin and took a deep breath through her nose, scenting my emotions, and her expression shifted into concern.
I sidestepped her question, heading toward the fridge. “Michael, you want anything to drink? Beer? Wine?” I glanced back and our gazes met.
“Something stronger, perhaps?” he asked. His dark eyes were guileless, not a hint of the discomfort I felt through the bond visible in his expression or posture.
I turned away and pulled a bottle filled with amber-colored liquid from a cabinet. “Bourbon?”
“That’ll do.”
“Lala, what’s going on?” Dad asked, using my nickname.
“Give me a minute here.” I poured myself and Michael a healthy amount of alcohol each and slid his glass across the marble of the island.
He caught it and lifted it toward me. “To grace under pressure.”
I nodded at him in thanks and took a hearty swig before facing my parents. “We met at the ceremony. I went to support Gia.”
Mom’s expression crumpled. “Oh, honey, why didn’t you tell us she was going? We would have gone to support her, too.”
I hated to see Mom hurt, and it only made me dread the pain to come. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to, but she didn’t tell her mom. I thought it would be wrong if you were there and she wasn’t.”
Dad frowned. “Why didn’t she tell Karen?”
“I think she didn’t want her there in case she wasn’t bonded. They’ve been through so much together the last few years, and Gia wanted to spare her another heartache if she could.”
“Was she bonded?” Mom asked.
I nodded.
Dad exhaled in relief. “Goddess be praised.”
“To who? Anyone we know?” Mom asked.
I shook my head. “A woman our age named Natalie. Past that, I couldn’t tell you much else, other than they both looked really happy. The ceremony went… differently from the last one I snuck out to.”
Mom finally sat, resting her elbows on the countertop as she watched me. “What do you mean?”
I swallowed another fortifying sip of whiskey before answering. “It seemed fine at first. The mystic was a woman named Antoinette from somewhere down South.”
Dad’s expression perked up at this. “Was she older?”
“Yeah.”
Mom looked over at him. “Must be the one Audrey always talks about. She’s supposed to be one of the most powerful mystics alive.”
I snorted. “Well, good thing she was leading the ceremony then, or it might have gone even worse.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“The ritual got away from her. I overheard Audrey say that someone else was trying to take control of it. The way Antoinette spoke afterward made it sound like she was implying it was the Goddess.”
Dad released a noisy breath. Mom picked up her wine and drained the rest of it, and the spikey smell of their combined fear filled my nose.
“What is it?” I asked. “All the other old people were weirded out when they heard that, but no one would say why.”
Dad unfurled to his impressive height. “First off, we’re not old.” He looked at Mom. “Another, Chris?” She nodded. “And second, in all my life, I’ve only seen what I would quantify as the Goddess’s interference three times.”
He grabbed himself another beer and handed Mom the bottle of wine. She poured herself a large glass, went to pass the bottle back to him, and then frowned and instead sat it in front of her on the counter.
“Better just keep it,” she muttered.
You’re gonna need it, I almost told her.