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“The roof caved in,” Grandmother Musgrove announced, turning to look at him. “Also, it seems you’re married. Congratulations.”

Four

Oliver waited for the punchline.

Grandmother Musgrove wasn’t a very jokey woman, but she had her moments. This was, admittedly, a pretty weird moment to pick. But Oliver couldn’t think of any other explanation for why she’d tell him he wasmarriedto the rude, spoiled stranger with giant bush baby eyes who crashed a car into his sign and called him an asshole within thirty seconds of meeting him.

The woman shivered pathetically in front of him, snow spiraling through the hole and landing in her damp hair. Even disheveled, she carried an air of entitlement and wealth. Her voice dripped with money, and her teeth were the kind of straight that only came from luxury dentists. Even the way she stood—anxious but still haughty like she expected to get out of this situation scot-free—screamed that she’d never had anything truly badhappen to her in her whole life. Nothing money couldn’t get her out of.

Next to him, Ben gasped.

“Oh,” Ben said. “Ohhhhh.”

“What?” Oliver snapped.

Ben pointed. The woman was holding the bottle he’d been drinking from earlier. He must’ve left it there after he went to get the bucket and grudgingly went over to join the party long enough to shut his family up.

More gasps went up behind him. Oliver turned to find both his aunts clinging to each other with excitement and shock. Uncle Roy scratched the childhood burn scar on his neck and glared at the woman like he wanted to rip her pretty little throat out right there in the lobby. Even Sabine had her hands over her mouth. The only ones who looked as confused as Oliver were the kids pulling on their parents’ sleeves for answers. Even a few non-wolves were getting it. The mermaid in the wheelchair had her hands over her mouth just like Sabine, eyes shining like she was watching the climax of a reality TV show.

“What?” Oliver asked again, turning to Grandmother. “What are you talking about?”

“You must be more drunk than I thought,” Grandmother said. “Look closer.”

She pointed at the bottle.

“Um,” said the woman, still shivering like a leaf. “I assumed it was for the party… I can put it back?—”

“Too late,” Uncle Roy spat. “The damage is done.”

A horrible realization rushed over Oliver fast,cutting through the drunkenness. Hedidrecognize that bottle. That was the bottle that had been present in every Musgrove bonding ceremony since before Oliver was born, with the two betrothed sharing the sacred spirits made by Musgrove elders and left to age until the next ceremony. He’d never seen it when it wasn’t draped in flowers and drizzled with oils somewhere in the woods, the bonded pair tipping the bottle into each spouse’s mouth.

“But—” Oliver said. “But it was in the back room. With our filing cabinet and a bunch of crap we never use but don’t want to throw out. Why was it in there?”

“A lot of things got misplaced during the move,” Grandmother pointed out.

Oliver shook his head numbly. He couldn’t have drunk that without knowing. It was sacred to their pack. He couldn’t just uncork it and start chugging.

Next to him, Ben stifled a hysterical giggle. “Dude, that’s—that’s thebond nectar. How do you accidentally drink thebond nectar?”

Oliver ran his tongue around his mouth. Traces of the liquid were still there under the beer he’d thrown back at the party while waiting to leave.

“Uhhh,” the woman said, clutching the bottle like it wasn’t hugely important to the pack she was now in. “I’m sorry, can someone explain what’s going on so I can curl up with an electric blanket and get this night over with? You guys do electric blankets, right?”

Another gust of wind came through the giant hole in the roof, sending a new wave of snow around the room.The woman—Oliver’swife,even though he didn’t even know hername—jumped like she’d been stung, rubbing her arms through her robe.

The tiniest shiver ran through Grandmother, who turned toward the people behind them with a smile.

“I think the night has burned itself out,” she announced. “Everybody might want to head home. Julia, do you need a hand?”

“Nope,” said the mermaid in the wheelchair. “Tammy has it.”

Tammy the orc tipped her party hat toward Grandmother. She sent a curious glance to Oliver before she bent down and lifted the entire wheelchair into her arms, heading for the door with several partygoers following behind. Including Joshua, the minotaur who owned the flower shop. He placed the lily vase down on the front counter and jogged out, sending Oliver an apologetic look as he went.

Grandmother’s hand hovered over Oliver’s elbow. “Come on.”

“This is ridiculous,” Oliver protested. He gestured up at the snow drifting down into the lobby, which was mercifully slowing down. “I—I need to put up a tarp. I need?—”

“We can do that later,” Grandmother said before walking over to the shivering woman.