“Why?”
He sighed heavily. “Because it wouldn’t be you. I know it seems peculiar since we hadn’t met, but I always felt like you were an extended part of the family. It was a damn shame that you were human. So imagine my surprise when we found out it actually was you.”
“I bet the Shifter part came as a shock,” I said with a chuckle.
“He would have mated with you regardless. I know my son, and his heart has always been yours. Now I don’t have to wonder what it’s like to have a daughter anymore.”
I wrapped my arms around George’s neck and felt all misty-eyed. “Dammit, I hate crying,” I said with a sniff. “Blame the pregnancy hormones.”
He chuckled warmly and patted my back. “I better head down to the guesthouse,” he said, dancing around the joke.
A few months ago, Wheeler had finally put his foot down and reclaimed his room again. We offered George and Katharine the spare room upstairs, but she’d begun warming up to the idea of the heat house, provided no one called it that. George christened it the guesthouse, and all was settled.
“George?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think we’ll be okay?”
He stared pensively down the stairs. “Life doesn’t come with a guarantee that things will always be good. I found that out the first time I had Katharine’s possum stew.”
I laughed so hard that I didn’t even try to hold back.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “Shifters are bred strong, so just keep your chin up.” He rose to his feet, and his knee popped. “I need to get rid of that wolf before going to bed.”
The laugh died in the back of my throat. “What wolf?”
George hitched up his pants. “When we got home from the peace party, we found a dead wolf in front of Trevor’s door. Nobody’s taking responsibility.”
“What about my mom?”
“She was already asleep with Maddox. Reno seemed to know something about it, and he suggested putting it in the trunk of William’s car.”
Ah, the pieces were coming together. William had brought Trevor an offering. Not the kind where wolves share their bounty, but where you honored your mate by killing their enemy. A gesture like that would stir up amorous feelings in any wolf with a pulse.
“Tell Reno to put the wolf on the edge of our property as a warning,” I said.
He nodded and headed down the stairs. “Good night, Lexi. And do me a favor—stop calling me George.”
A smile touched my lips. “You got it, Pop.”
***
Austin faced the wall, arms folded, studying the intricate carvings on a Native spear. The firelight filled Lorenzo’s office with an ambient glow. Lighting a fire wasn’t necessary with the agreeable weather, but Lorenzo hosted meetings as if he were having a powwow.
The other seven Packmasters had left, leaving behind Lorenzo, Austin, and Prince.
Austin had never felt more conflicted than when Judas advanced toward Lexi. His first instinct should have been to fight for his mate, but Austin’s wolf hadn’t lunged. It was as if their stream of consciousness had merged, each choosing to protect Lexi as their priority. It was the smart thing to do, because fighting in a charged atmosphere could have ended in bloodshed, with Lexi in the line of fire. He loved that woman too deeply to make an impulsive move that could put her in danger, and yet fear had become his biggest foe. Fear that she might have chosen to go with Judas if it meant more protection for the baby, fear that Judas might have instigated an attack with all the Packmasters present, fear that her emotions could put stress on the baby.
The sound of liquid pouring into a glass filled the quiet room.
“I’m still disgusted to hear that the Rivers pack chose to leave Texas and all their land behind,” Lorenzo said.
“Yes, that is most disagreeable,” Prince replied. “They have more children than other packs in the territory, but what kind of lesson is that to teach? I have spent centuries running from war, but flames will always spread if they are ignored.”
Prince and Lorenzo sat before a window, the small table littered with empty bottles and a marble ashtray. Lorenzo sipped his scotch and gazed at his property. “Ivy warned me about having a peace party on a full moon,” he said absently. “Nothing good ever comes of a full moon.”