“Bring your girls,” I tell Una. I’m not leaving them alone with a frustrated Eamon and company. Lochlan’s sulking at the B-roster table, about to blow. He’s got a ‘roided up look about him.
Una smiles and waves her girls over. My wolf begins to relax. The pack is acting like itself again, each member worried about himself. Challenge averted. For now.
I have no doubt that this shit will come to a head soon, but not tonight. I wave Ivo over and tell him to tap Gael and a few other trusted wolves to stay back and keep an eye on Eamon’s faction. Then, I escort my mate toward the door. Her roommates trot along behind us, and as we go, the sound of scraping chairs and arguments rise behind us.
Tradition versus change.
The same-old, same-old versus ice cream.
Not for the first time, I marvel that such major shit hinges on such small things.
I park in the lot by the commissary, and it’s a short walk. I send Fallon for my keys. The packmates choosing adventure follow as we make our way slowly down the path toward the commons. The sun is setting, and the foothills are a solid black outline blending into the deep purple of the evening sky. It’s a beautiful night.
My tension isn’t set aside; it’s gone. My enemies’ machinations have no consequence when Una leaves her hand in mine after I grab it to help her navigate a root in the path.
Behind us, there are whispers tinged with excitement. I hear Conor and Jimmy. Dierdre and Liam. Nuala. Dermot. Old Noreen. Ashlynn. Tye, oddly enough. And behind them there’s a parade of other mated pairs with their young. The longer we walk, the freer their laughter, the louder their voices.
“What’s ice cream?” a small voice asks at the top of his lungs.
“Like thick milk,” an elder female replies.
“That’s gross.”
“Yes, but I’m not missing this for nothin’.”
Una hides a smile. Our bond pulses. “You’re really taking us for ice cream,” she says.
“Yup.”
“Eamon’s crew is just going to get angrier.”
“Don’t care. There’s a new order. They’ll fall in line or leave.”
She sighs, and worry threads through our connection. “You know I can’t win against any of them in a challenge.”
“No, I don’t know that.”
She huffs. “You won’t always be there.”
“Yes, I will.”
She rolls her eyes. She doubts me, but time will tell.
“Your little wolf might not be able to take all comers—yet—but you rule me. So, you rule the pack. Get used to it. It’s a pain in the ass.”
“I rule you?” She scoffs, but she also adds the slightest sassy sway to her walk. Even in the dark, I don’t miss it.
“You lead me on a leash.” I slap that swaying ass. Can’t resist.
She yips, and she gives a good, salty yank on the bond. Much stronger than she has before.
The early rising stars have never been more beautiful, nor has the susurration of the night critters in the woods. Her lightness makes me drunk.
Yeah, I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be in charge. I want to feed my mate thick milk and then race her home through the fields, stopping by the old dens for her to ride my hard, aching cock.
Yeah. That’s the best damn plan I’ve ever had.
We reach my Jeep and Fallon’s waiting, leaning against the door, keys dangling. He grins. “There’s not enough room, Alpha. Can I get the keys to the Mustang and take the others?”
The others? I finally notice Annie, Mari, and Kennedy close behind us. Tye, too, his eyes flashing silver.
“I don’t think so, pup.” Tye puffs his chest.
Fallon’s wolf yips. Not big enough to growl, not smart enough to keep his muzzle shut. Tye’s wolf responds with a snarl.
These assholes are not ruining my night. I don’t know what’s going on, or what kind of mismatched pissing contest this is, but I do know we own vans.
“All of y’all go together. You can go in the Windstar, or you can take the Astro.” I gesture at our two fine, working tributes to the 90s. Liam is a truly talented mechanic.
I don’t waste time listening to them groan. I open the Jeep’s passenger door and lift Una in. Her smell is sharper than it was in the lodge. It’s a stimulant. I drag it in with the night air, and my muscles tingle.
We’re riding with the top down, or I’m not gonna make it all the way to Chapel Bell.
The moon is waning, and it hangs above the tree line like a giant glowing hook, set off by the last golden orange streaks of sunset.
Una lifts her face to the night sky. Her braid hangs down her back, thick and inviting. I grab it. She doesn’t startle. She glances over at me, lips curving, and then she closes her eyes again, letting the cool wind bathe her face.
There’s a fire raging inside me, a longing that crackles like embers.
She is the one. Fate saved her for me. To be mine alone. The reward for all the sacrifice, all the cracking of thick skulls and sleepless nights worrying over shit that seemed impossible to change.
Tonight, I get to know what it feels like to sink deep into my mate and seed her belly so she belongs to me like I already belong to her.
I don’t want fucking ice cream.
I want to pull over onto the shoulder. I want her to flee again, and this time, I won’t stalk her. I’ll catch her. Take her. And she’ll cry my name. Her wolf will howl it to the skies.
I adjust my cock before it punches through my zipper, grateful for the dark and Una’s distraction.
I might have never mounted a female before, but I’m no pup. My body is a finely-tuned instrument, and I can read a partner in the ring. Una won’t be dissatisfied.
These aren’t nerves. It’s anticipation.
13
KILLIAN
Our caravan pulls into Chapel Bell as the clock tolls eight. There aren’t many humans around, but the lights blaze at the stand in the square with the cow statue in front. It’s a prime specimen. Nice haunches. Really gets your mouth watering, and then you see the menu, and it’s instant disappointment.
We park our makeshift caravan, and I help Una out of the Jeep. Maybe I linger. The nip of her waist and swell of her hips are sweet as hell. Made for my grip. Her hands flutter to my chest. The lamplight shines in her eyes. I can’t tell if her pupils are blown wide like before when the heat overtook her.
“Everyone’s staring,” she whispers.
“Let them.”
She ducks her head, unconsciously flashing my bite. The sight makes me even harder. When I spill inside her tonight, I’m going to mark her again. Deeper. And then I’m going to mount her again and again until she marks me back.
I lick my lips.
“Ice cream,” she murmurs, voice rough.
“Ice cream.” I force myself to step back. Grab her hand. Lead her after Nuala and her sugar-happy grandson.
We’re the last to order. I get chocolate. Una gets vanilla.