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Even though a young man had been the first out the door, he wasn’t the first to approach them. He quickly stepped aside as a tall, older guy appeared in the doorway.

His charcoal-black hair held streaks of silver that only made him look more distinguished and powerful rather than old.

“Tala,” was all he said. His deep, booming voice stopped the excited chatter of the other pack members.

“Dad,” Tala replied with a respectful nod that seemed almost like a bow.

His stern expression softened into a smile, which transformed his weathered face into a landscape of laugh lines around his mouth and yellowish-brown eyes.

Each member of the family gracefully moved aside as he approached Tala and pulled her into a bear hug.

Well, fox hug. Although there was nothing foxlike about him.

He didn’t resemble Tala at all—none of her family members did, Faith realized as she scanned each person who left the house to greet them. Everyone else was taller. Tala was also the only redhead in the family and the only one with those fascinating golden eyes.

Tala’s father let go of her and turned toward Faith.

Under his intense scrutiny, Faith stood rooted to the spot. Belatedly, she stuck out her hand. “Hi, Mr.Peterson. I’m Faith. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He ignored her outstretched hand and settled both of his big hands on her shoulders to pull her closer and study her even more intensely. His nostrils quivered.

Oh God. Was he sniffing her? Faith prayed that the mate scent perfume was still holding up and her anxiety wasn’t leaking from her every pore.

Tala stepped closer and pressed against Faith’s side. “Appo, humans don’t—”

Her father held up his hand, silencing her. His gaze remained on Faith. “Humans don’t hug new family members to welcome them?”

Faith stared at him. She couldn’t even blink. “Uh, they do.”

“Good.” He pulled her into an embrace.

For a second, Faith stiffened. But then she realized how gentle his hands on her back were. He wasn’t holding her as close or as fiercely as he had Tala. Clearly, he was cradling her like a fragile piece of glass that might shatter under too much pressure.

“I’m Brennan,” he said as he moved her back to arms’ length to study her again.

“Faith,” she replied. Ugh. She had said that already.

The edges of his lips twitched up into a hint of a smile, and for a moment, he did resemble Tala a little.

“Don’t hog her all to yourself, old man.” A woman almost as tall as he leaned against him, shouldering him aside.

Her hair was a beautiful blend of several different hues—a soft gray at the base, which then transitioned into a warm golden brown and ended in a chocolate brown at the tips.

Faith only had time to admire it for a few seconds before she was pulled into another, closer embrace.

“I’m Jemma, Tala’s mom. Welcome to our home—and to the family.”

“Thank you for having me,” Faith replied, grateful for her training in hospitality management that automatically took over.

As soon as Jemma let go to greet Tala, a younger woman—probably around Faith’s age—walked over. Her approach didn’t have the same Moses-parting-the-Red-Sea effect on the pack as Brennan’s had. Rather, everyone seemed to adjust their stance in an instinctive way, allowing her to slip by with quiet grace.

Golden-brown and tan hair, resembling Jemma’s, fell in soft waves around her shoulders. She studied Faith with the same thoroughness Brennan had, but her gaze was calm and methodical where his had been intense.

Her eyes were stunning. Flecks of amber and caramel danced around her pupils, creating an illusion of moving flames.

Faith had a feeling that a lot happened behind those fascinating eyes. God, she couldn’t even say which member of this family made her most nervous.

“This is Arlyn, my sister,” Tala said for her.

Arlyn engulfed Tala in a tight embrace. She didn’t hug Faith, but her handshake was warm and steady.

“One of her sisters,” another woman, a couple of years younger than Arlyn, threw in. “I’m Kiera, her other sister.” She dashed over and threw her arms around both Tala and Faith, pulling them into a group hug.

Two kids of around Chloe’s age—a boy and a girl—followed her and added their little arms to the embrace.

Faith was pressed against Tala’s side and nearly lost her balance.

As if sensing it, Tala wrapped an arm around her.

“Everyone, back off!” Tala’s voice boomed across the driveway. “You’re scaring off my mate before she even sets foot into the house!”

Within seconds, all arms were gone from around Faith, and she could breathe again.

A lanky man in his early twenties approached next but gave Faith a respectful berth. He grinned at Tala. “Well, well, look who decided to finally show up half a day late!”

Tala scowled at him. “Faith had to finish work before we could leave, unlike you, slacker.”

Was this Rey, the asshole brother who saw Tala as a rival?

But their embrace was heartfelt.

“This is Felix,” Tala said when he let go of her. “The baby of the family.”

He made a sound of protest but didn’t stop grinning as he took Faith’s hand in a gentle grip and shook it.

Amazing how four siblings could all be so different, none of them resembling Tala or each other in looks or personality.

Even more amazing was how different Tala seemed from the fierce woman Faith had gotten to know in DC. She freely traded hugs and didn’t stop smiling as she greeted her relatives.

More pack members followed—aunts, uncles, cousins, their mates, and a few neighbors—until faces and names blurred together.

“Okay, everyone!” Tala’s mother finally shouted over the chaos. “Let them come in so they can settle in before we eat. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

The mention of food made them all troop inside at record speed.

Jemma turned toward Faith. “This”—she nodded toward the quickly retreating backs of her family—“is how you get your pups to move. Just for future reference.” Then she winked at her and entered the house too.

Faith’s face heated, and she gave Tala a wide-eyed look. “Did she just imply…?”

“Yeah.” Tala scowled. “She’s giving you Wrasa parenting advice. But don’t worry. I’ll tell her to cut it out. And the winking too. Now come on. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”

Her younger brother stuck his head back out. “Need any help with your bags?”

“No, thanks.” Tala lifted her own overnight bag and Faith’s suitcase out of the SUV.

When Faith tried to take the suitcase from her, Tala didn’t let go. “I’ve got it.” Despite her slight frame, she carried both pieces of luggage inside as if they weighed nothing.

“Don’t you need to lock the car?” Faith asked as she followed her into the house. She was the last one in.

“Up here?” Tala shook her head. “No one steals from a Peterson.”

Faith remembered what Tala had said about a natak being like a mayor. Clearly, her family held a lot of sway in this area.

A foyer with a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling greeted Faith. A plush, colorful rug covered the gleaming hardwood floor. Somehow, it didn’t seem posh, just cozy.

To the left, a door stood open, revealing a library or office with a floor-to-ceiling bookcase.

Pots clanked from straight ahead, where Faith assumed the kitchen was, and the scent of sizzling meat hung in the air. The hum of lively conversation, interspersed with laughter, came from the same direction. A curved staircase with beautiful wooden steps ascended to the second floor.

Tala’s mother had waited for them in the foyer. She led them upstairs, even though Tala was, of course, familiar with the house.

Dozens of framed photos adorned the curved wall to Faith’s right. She paused to study them.

They were all family pictures—Brennan and Jemma as a young couple, their arms around each other; elderly people with wrinkled faces and alert gazes; a younger Jemma with a red-haired woman; and various pictures of the five kids at all ages.

Tala was prominent in most of them, even though, as they got older, her siblings grew taller than her.

In one, Tala seemed to be eight or nine. She and a thin boy who could only be her oldest brother, Rey, were playing in a pile of fall leaves, tossing them at each other, lips pulled back in wild laughter.

Why had Tala said her standing with the pack was difficult? From what Faith had seen so far, everyone loved and respected her.

“Babe?” Tala called from the top of the stairs. “Are you coming?”

The unexpected term of affection sent a jolt of warmth through Faith. Quickly, she tore herself away from the photos and hurried to catch up with them.

“Don’t worry.” Jemma patted her arm. “I can get out the photo album for you tomorrow. There’s this cute photo of Tala when she was three or four and tried to—”

A loud growl from Tala interrupted. “Ammakki! I’m hoping to become natak one day. There should be a law that mandates all embarrassing childhood photos of me have to be destroyed.”

Her mother tsked. “There’s no such thing as embarrassing when it’s your mate. I’ve seen photos of your father in which he—”

“I’m sure Faith does not want to know that,” Tala’s father called from downstairs, reminding Faith of how acute the Wrasa’s hearing was.

Jemma chuckled and led them down the hallway, past four doors to a fifth one. “You’re in Tala’s room,” she said to Faith.

Tala’s room. Not Tala’s old room, just her room, as if her family had been waiting for her to return.

Jemma pushed the door open and let them enter ahead of her.

Faith had expected to step into some sort of time capsule, with posters from Tala’s teenage years on the walls.

Instead, the room looked as if an adult had lived here all along. It was more spacious than expected too.

The soothing colors of nature dominated the room. The walls were painted in a very light moss green, and the queen-sized bed in the center was covered by a quilt adorned with autumn leaves in shades of yellow, orange, red, and rust brown. A beige rug with golden, fern-like patterns stretched across the hardwood floor in front of the bed.

The entire room exuded a sense of calm that contrasted with the bustling family life downstairs. Faith guessed it had been Tala’s oasis when she needed some alone time.

Large windows, unobstructed by curtains, offered views of the backyard and the forest. A glass door led outside, to a spacious balcony with a small table and several chairs.

Two trailing ivy plants cascaded down either side of a bookshelf that housed books on bird-watching and several sports trophies.

Faith stepped closer and read the inscriptions. Most of them were for track and field, but nearly hidden behind the others was a single medal for gymnastics.

An image of a younger Tala in a leotard flashed across her mind’s eye. Faith bit back a giggle.

“I put fresh sheets on the bed and dusted,” Jemma said. “It’s been a while since anyone has used this room.” Gentle reproach colored her tone.

Tala scraped her booted foot across the floor. “You know I have a job.”

“Didn’t stop you from coming home in the past,” her mother murmured.

“Ammakki…”

Jemma lifted her hands. “I’ll leave you two to get settled in. Come downstairs right away once you’ve freshened up, or the hungry masses will start dinner without you.” At the door, she turned back and faced Faith. “The book I read said humans get cold easily, so let me know if you need extra blankets. But knowing how Tala was with Lasandra, I don’t think you will.” She left them alone but didn’t bother to close the door behind her.

Faith stared after her, then sent Tala a questioning look. “What does she mean?”

Tala heaved a sigh and closed the door. “Lasandra is my ex. My mom was referring to the higher Wrasa body temperature.” She waved at the bed in the center of the room.

The bed they were supposed to share.

It suddenly hit Faith. A buzzing sound started in her ears. “Oh. They expect us to”—she gestured at the bed—“sleep together. Uh, I mean, in the same bed.”

Tala nodded grimly. “Yes. But don’t worry. I can sleep on the floor or on the ottoman.”

That didn’t sound like a realistic solution. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“It is…if I am in my animal form. I can just curl into a ball and use my tail as a blanket.”

Part of Faith was curious. She had never seen a Wrasa shift in person, and she would have loved to get a glimpse of Tala’s fox form. But at the same time, the thought made her entire body go cold. No, she wasn’t ready to come face-to-face with Tala’s animal side. “Um, not a good idea. If someone peeks in to let us know breakfast is ready and sees us sleeping apart…”

“True. There’s no such thing as privacy in a pack.”

“It’s okay.” Faith managed to sound almost normal. “We can share the bed. It’s no big deal.”

Tala gave a casual shrug. “Right. It’s a big bed.”

It really wasn’t, but Faith nodded. “It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Just fine. It’s not like I’ve ever been attracted to a human anyway.”

“Nor I to a Wrasa.”

So that was settled, then. If only Faith’s body would get the message. Her heartbeat felt anything but settled, and she couldn’t tell if it was nervousness or…

Nonsense. Of course it was nervousness.

“Ten-minute warning!” Jemma shouted from downstairs, making them both jump.

Faith realized that they stood much closer than she had been aware of.

Tala abruptly backed away, turned, and rummaged through her bag. “Let’s reapply the perfume and head downstairs.”

~ ~ ~

“Hurry up!” Tala gruffly waved the perfume flask at Faith.

Faith took her own bottle from her suitcase and pulled out the stopper.

Immediately, the milk-with-honey-on-a-rainy-day scent filled the room, wrapping around Tala like an intimate embrace.

Her nostrils quivered at the effort it took not to breathe it in.

Faith brushed her long, rich brown hair back on one side and tilted her head to expose her neck. Gracefully, she touched her fingertip to her pulse point.

Tala’s gaze tracked the glistening droplet as it slowly made a sensual path down her bare neck, leaving a trace of dampness on her soft-looking skin.

For a moment, a vivid image flashed through Tala’s mind, and she saw herself leaning forward and pressing her mouth to the sensitive skin. She could almost feel the flutter of Faith’s pulse beneath her lips.

Great Hunter, what was wrong with her? Faith was merely putting on perfume—a necessary evil that was part of their scheme.

Not attracted to humans, huh?

It was only that damn perfume, she told herself. Smelling Faith’s essence merging with her own was as intimate as sex. No wonder her poor brain was getting confused!

Tala realized she was still clutching the forgotten perfume bottle as she watched Faith. Quickly, she dabbed a bit of the fragrance onto her neck. The cool liquid on her overheated skin made her shiver.

She took off her ID tag and dropped it onto the nightstand. The piece of metal clanked as it hit the wooden surface.

At the sound, Faith looked up and eyed the ID tag. “Don’t you have to wear that or risk a hefty fine?”

“Not here,” Tala said. “There are no government officials or human tattletales around.”

Faith peered back and forth between Tala and the floor. “So…I’m not a human tattletale?” she asked with the tiniest of smiles.

“I hope not,” Tala murmured.

Their gazes caught and held.

Of course, Tala knew otherwise. Faith was a human tattletale. She had tried to plant a bug in her apartment.

But those dark brown eyes met hers with such sincerity, deep and tranquil like a forest lake at night. Tala could almost believe Faith wouldn’t try to bug her pack’s home.

As a teenager, Tala had practiced for hours to never look away first because it implied submission. But now she lowered her gaze under the pretense of glancing at the necklace Faith wore. She pointed at the small silver cross resting in the hollow of Faith’s throat. “You might want to take that off too.”

Faith’s eyes widened. “Um, my top?”

“No! The necklace.”

Faith’s hand went to the cross pendant in an almost protective gesture. “It was my mother’s,” she said quietly.

“Oh. Okay.” Tala rubbed the back of her neck, not wanting to be an ass by forcing her to take it off anyway. “Maybe you could at least tuck the cross inside your shirt.”

“Why?” Faith asked. “Is silver harmful to you?”

Tala snorted. “No. We’re not werewolves. Silver doesn’t bother us—the cross does. Wrasa aren’t keen on organized religion.”

“So…you don’t believe in God?” Faith sounded stunned, as if she couldn’t imagine that. “Any god?”

“We do. Kind of. It’s…complicated.” No way would she tell Faith about the Great Hunter or dream seers. Jorie was the only maharsi they had left and needed to be protected.

Dream seeing was one of only two things about her kind she could never reveal to Faith. The other, of course, being the true role of the Saru and what they had done to protect the Wrasa’s secret existence.

“After what was done to us in the name of religion during the Inquisition, we’re not big on the Christian God,” she added. “A few of the elders might consider it disrespectful to wear a cross at their table.”

“Oh. Of course.” After a moment’s hesitation, Faith took off the necklace and softly slid it onto the nightstand next to the ID tag.

Seeing them side by side was strange.

“Three minutes,” her mother called from downstairs.

“Come on. We’ve got a hundred and eighty seconds until the best food is gone.” Tala rushed to the door.

In the hallway, she nearly collided with her brother Rey, who had stepped out of his room.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted. Okay, that had come out wrong. But it was the first night of the twere, so according to tradition, Rey was supposed to spend dinner and the night with his mate’s pack, while Mirella would stay with his.

Rey scowled at her, and as always, Tala hated that he had inherited their father’s height and could look down at her. “Unlike you, I live here.”

“No, I mean, why aren’t you with the Cranfields?”

“I’m on my way over there. Just had to fix a leaky faucet for Grandma before I’m leaving.” His gaze went to Faith. “So you really brought a mate.”

There was no joy or welcome in his tone or his scent, only accusation.

Tala sighed. Some things never changed. “Faith, this is my brother Rey. Rey, this is Faith. My mate.” It felt strange to say that.

“Not Rey,” he said. “Reynard.”

Tala let out a snort. “Since when? You hated that name as a pup!”

“Yeah, well, I’m no longer a pup.” He squared his muscular shoulders. “Reynard is a name fitting for a future natak.”

Oh please. Tala barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Faith held out her hand to shake his, then froze. She stared at his right arm, which ended above the elbow.

“I see my sister didn’t tell you about this.” He waved his stump, nearly hitting Faith’s still-outstretched hand.

A growl rumbled up Tala’s chest. She would not allow him to treat her mate this way. Well, fake mate, but he didn’t know that.

But before she could reprimand him, Faith dropped her right hand and held out her left one instead. “No, she didn’t. Probably because to her it’s not the most important thing about her brother.”

Rey didn’t reach for her hand. He regarded her, still scowling, but Tala detected a hint of surprise and admiration in his scent. “Then what is? What did she tell you about me?”

Tala opened her mouth to tell him she was standing right here. If he had a problem, he could take it up with her.

But Faith brushed her pinkie with her own in silent communication. “She told me how much you value your pack, loyalty, and duty. And how the two of you used to love playing together when you were growing up, wrestling each other in a pile of leaves every fall.”

Tala had told her no such thing. She glanced toward the framed pictures on the stairs. Faith had probably caught a glimpse of the photo, and now she was using it to create the illusion that she and Tala were much more familiar with each other and their families than they really were.

Damn. She’s good. Tala hadn’t expected that.

“She did?” For a second, Rey looked stunned and almost…happy. Then his scowl was back. “Yeah, well, I rubbed her face in leaves every time, even after losing the arm.”

“Ten, nine, eight,” Tala’s mother shouted from downstairs.

“Come on, hon. We’ve got something more important to do than to argue about who won silly leaf fights.” Tala grabbed Faith’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and tugged her toward the stairs.

Rey’s gaze drilled into her back, but Tala ignored it.

Which wasn’t hard, because the feeling of Faith’s hand in hers was very distracting.

Faith’s fingers were cooler than her own, which she had expected. What did surprise her was the urge to rub some warmth into those clammy fingers.

As they navigated the stairs side by side, she leaned toward her and whispered, “Pick a safe word.”

Faith nearly stumbled down the stairs.

Laughter burst from Tala, easing the tension in her shoulder muscles. “You humans really have dirty minds…or is it only you?”

“What? No, I…” Then Faith seemed to catch the grin curving up Tala’s lips.

They reached the end of the stairs, and Tala sobered. “I know you aren’t used to being around such a large, loud pack. If you start to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable, just say…berry crumble, and I’ll make up an excuse to get you out of there.”

Faith chuckled. “My safe word is berry crumble?”

Tala shrugged. “My family thinks berries are a waste of space in their stomachs, so there won’t be any reason to use that word tonight. If you say it, I’ll know you want out of there.”

Faith’s fingers tightened around hers. “Thank you.”

Her mother’s countdown had reached zero before they had hit the bottom of the stairs, so there was no time to linger.

Tala gave her a nod and pulled her toward the dining room.

~ ~ ~