Page 16 of Accidentally Wedded to a Werewolf (Claw Haven #1)

“So, Luna,” Sabine said, cutting through a steak that was noticeably less cooked than Luna’s. All the others were, now that she looked closely. “What do you do?”

Luna tried to remember her official role at her dad’s company.

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” she said with a smirk. Then, because she would be out of here soon and was still riding the high from earlier, “And I do a little marketing.”

“That sounds fun,” Sabine said, with the polite eagerness of someone who had no idea what that entailed. “What’s that like?”

“So fun,” Luna gushed. “Don’t tell anybody, but I was the one who designed that little logo on our most recent rebranding. Logos are very important.”

She looked over at Oliver, who was watching her with a dry expression that meant he remembered her sign outburst in the lobby.

“I’ll bet,” he said.

Darren picked a piece of meat out from between his buck teeth and asked, “Uncle Ollie, can we still go to the movies this weekend?”

“Uncle Ollie,” Luna whispered, delighted.

He gave her another exasperated look.

“Sure,” Oliver said. Then he paused, fork scraping to a stop against his plate. “Uh, Luna will have to come.”

“Duh,” Darren said, like he was offended Oliver thought he had to be reminded. “I pay attention in wolf lessons.”

“The bottle wasn’t supposed to be in the back office,” Oliver argued. “And I’ve never seen it when it wasn’t covered in flowers! It looked different!”

Darren rolled his eyes. “Ooookay, Uncle Ollie.”

“I would never accidentally drink the bond nectar,” Vida muttered beside him. She still had her headphones on, though she’d relegated them to her neck at her mother’s request.

Luna looked over at Grandmother Musgrove. “Wolf lessons?”

She nodded. “Every second Saturday from the ages of five to thirteen, we get the children together and tell them of our history—Musgrove, of course, but also wolf. Family stories, rituals. What they should expect as they grow.”

“Aw! That’s sweet.” Luna beamed around the table. “You guys are so nice. I always heard werewolves were all, like, rowr! with each other.”

The table fell silent.

“Not, like…” Luna giggled nervously, making a clawing motion with her manicured hand. “Not, like, bad. Just…rowr! You know?”

“We can be,” Uncle Roy said gruffly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Roy.” Aunt Barney took a napkin out of one of her million pockets and dabbed at her mouth. “Some of us are, dear. Just like any family.”

“What is yours like?” Aunt Althea asked, gold fang flashing as she spoke. She tucked her hand into a fake claw. “Are they rowr?”

“We’re rowr-dy,” Luna said. It got her a decent laugh.

“Yeah, we have tons of fun. We don’t do family dinners, though.

This is so cute!” She gave them another smile, extra-bright to make up for the awkwardness.

One lesson she learned young: If you acted cute enough, people let you get away with anything.

She snuck a glance at Oliver. He was chewing slowly, ignoring Ben, who was trying to make pointed eye contact with him from across the table.

Sabine asked, “Are you close?”

“I mean… We work together, technically.” Luna poked at a stray piece of tomato, wondering why she felt so exposed.

She talked about her family all the time at charity events.

It was what everyone knew her for. Luna Stack, daughter of Henry Stack.

Then they’d ask how he was, and she’d say he was great, even if they hadn’t talked in months.

Which happened often enough. Not on purpose, obviously.

They were just busy with their own awesome lives.

“Everyone has their own things going on,” Luna continued.

She busied herself with sliding more salad onto her fork, feeling weirdly exposed.

The Musgroves lived together and plaited each other’s hair, and they went to the movies and ate dinner together every night.

Luna couldn’t be bothered driving forty minutes to her parents’ place.

Last year, she’d been in the neighborhood for a bachelorette party and dropped in to say hi.

Their first questions when they saw her in the foyer were What are you doing here? Did something happen?

She watched Darren poke his big sister with a fork. Vida poked him back, scowling. It made Luna miss her own little brother, which was weird. She didn’t usually miss her brother. She didn’t miss her family, period—until she started watching the way the Musgroves fit together.

Aunt Barney and Althea whispered together, their voices getting louder and louder until Althea said: “Yes, you do! It’s that little blue logo we see sometimes at the hardware store. Cute little logo, I always said. Most logos are dull as dishwater; yours actually has some pizzaz.”

Luna gave her the biggest smile she could manage. Nobody else knew she had designed that logo. Her dad had laughed in her face when she admitted she wanted to work in graphic design and marketing.

Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’d told her. He wouldn’t be happy if he found out she was “meddling,” as he called it whenever she tried to have a say in the company he’d built.

“Totally,” Luna said. “Um, thank…thank you.”

Leo spoke up. “Hey Grandma, is Uncle Ollie gonna be alpha this year?”

The table went silent again. Oliver’s grip went white around his fork, then forcibly relaxed. He didn’t look up at Grandmother Musgrove, who gave Leo a warm smile.

“Maybe next year,” she said.

“But you said that last year,” Leo pointed out. He gave Darren a knowing look, who frowned back at him like he was annoyed at Leo for saying it.

Sabine cleared her throat. “I like your hair, Aunt Althea. New beads?”

Aunt Althea gasped, holding up the beads she’d woven into her hair.

Luna stared at Oliver. He was nodding blankly, barely pretending to be interested as the others admired Aunt Althea’s hair.

Luna always assumed somebody had to die to replace an alpha.

Was it just like handing over a job? Had he been on track to be alpha, then something happened to make Grandmother change her mind?

Everybody had gone silent, so what was the story there?

Darren shoved the last piece of broccoli on his plate and stood.

“Chocolate time,” he announced, heading over to a drawer and emerging with the paper bag that Luna had been holding only a few hours ago.

“That’s for guests, honey,” Aunt Althea reminded him.

Darren pouted. “But Uncle Ollie ate them!”

“We can buy more tomorrow,” Grandmother Musgrove said. “It would be nice to support local.”

Darren ran around the table, distributing wolf chocolates.

“Oh, I love these,” Luna gushed as Darren handed her one. “Beth gave me another sample when I was in town before. She’s adorable, and her chocolates are delish.”

“She’s a wonderful chocolatier,” Grandmother Musgrove agreed. “It’s a shame she might not be able to keep that store open.”

“What?” Luna asked. “Why?”

“Not enough tourists,” Ben explained.

Oliver shifted in his seat, careful not to let his elbow skim Luna’s. Luna thought back to what he’d yelled at her about wanting the inn to close, then what he’d said later on the couch. Safe harbor.

“This place should be crawling with tourists,” Luna said. “You guys have mountains; you have forests, and a beautiful ocean view. Throw in the monster schtick, and you have a hook!”

“Claw Haven,” the kids chorused. Even Vida, though her tone was heavy with sarcasm. “For the monster who wants some peace and quiet!”

Luna clapped. “Exactly! You can totally capitalize on that.”

Luna rolled the chocolate in her hands, feeling the wolf’s rounded muzzle. An idea was brewing; she could feel the images coming together the way they always did before she reached for her secret sketchbook.

“About your new sign,” Luna said. “I could design it. Free of charge.”

Another series of looks got traded around the table.

Luna tucked her hair behind her ears self-consciously. “It’s no big deal. You are letting me stay here for free.”

“Because I pass out if you leave,” Oliver said.

She cocked her head at him. “Is that a ‘no’?”

Grandmother Musgrove spoke up. “That would be lovely, Luna. I look forward to seeing it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Luna popped the chocolate wolf into her mouth and beamed.

Fondness pulsed through her, fast and reluctant. It took Luna a second to realize it wasn’t her own. She looked over at Oliver, surprised.

He wasn’t looking at her. All his limbs were pulled in tight so he wouldn’t touch her, eyes on his plate. For a second, Luna thought she might have imagined it. Then his mouth twitched, and she caught the faintest echo of fondness once more.

She averted her eyes. She’d promised she wouldn’t pry.

She didn’t want him messing around in her head as much as he didn’t want her in his.

She chewed her chocolate, and the next time she caught the echo of an emotion—annoyance at Uncle Roy’s opinion on the movie they watched last night—Luna blocked it out.