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Faith tightened her grip on Tala’s hand as they entered the dining room.

It blended seamlessly into the kitchen to their left, separated only by a counter. On the other side, the kitchen flowed into the family room, basically creating one big area that was clearly the heart of the Petersons’ home.

About two dozen people were squeezed around a long, sturdy table in the dining room. Despite the festive occasion, no white linen covered the expanse of dark wood, so various dents and marks from years of use were visible.

A big bay window on the other side of the table revealed glimpses of a kidney-shaped pool, tucked away under a slate-gray cover. Twilight had settled over the property, and the lights strung around a nearby gazebo cast a soft glow on the surrounding garden.

Did the Petersons ever shift shape and dive into the pool? Could foxes even swim?

Rambunctious laughter caught her attention. Tala’s younger cousins were sprawled on two long leather couches in the family room, their legs tangled together like a pile of puppies.

When Tala and Faith entered, the buzz of conversation stopped, and everyone looked at them.

God, their gazes were intense. Faith felt like a trapped rabbit. She swallowed hard. Berry crumble, berry crumble, berry crumble. She repeated it in her mind like a protective spell.

Tala led her over to the only two free seats, near the head of the table.

Faith squeezed in between Tala and a bearded man who resembled Brennan, Tala’s father. After a moment, she remembered that he was one of the uncles. Zeke?

No, Seth.

Across from her, Tala’s sister Arlyn was seated next to a stranger, a stunning young woman.

“Finally!” Brennan rose, his empty plate in hand, and strode over to the kitchen, where every available surface was covered with platters and bowls.

Apparently, the Wrasa weren’t big on long speeches—at least not before they ate.

She had expected a stampede toward the lovingly prepared buffet, but so far, only Brennan and Jemma had gotten up to serve themselves.

Maybe she should get herself some food too. That way, she could pretend to be entirely focused on eating and wouldn’t have to talk to the intimidating guy next to her.

But as if sensing the tension in Faith’s muscles as she prepared to rise, Tala put a hand on her thigh and gently stopped her. “No,” she said quietly. “Not yet. The natak and his mate always get their food first, then the pack member who’s next in line to be natak and their mate.”

“Oh.” Faith stayed seated, very aware of Tala’s hand, which still rested on her leg.

As if only now noticing that she was touching Faith, Tala quickly withdrew her hand. When her parents returned to the table, she hopped up and gestured for Faith to follow her.

Across from them, the beautiful stranger rose.

Was she another guest clueless about the rules regarding food?

The room fell silent.

“Mirella.” Tala nodded at her—respectful, but not with the same deference she had used with her father.

This was Rey’s future wife? She was stunning! Raven-black hair cascaded down her toned shoulders, framing her high cheekbones and piercing green eyes.

“Good to see you. Congratulations on your upcoming svayampar ,” Tala said. “How’s your pack?”

“Everyone’s good. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Mirella chuckled. “My sister in particular.”

Everyone swiveled around and stared at Faith, who broke out in a sweat. Were they waiting for some kind of reaction from her?

Tala took Faith’s hand and urgently tapped her thumb against Faith’s index finger.

What was she trying to tell her?

Faith was hopelessly lost, so she took a wild guess. “We’re really looking forward to seeing her too,” she said with an emphasis on the we .

Tala stopped tapping and smoothed her finger along Faith’s in a silent “well done” caress.

A warm sensation spread along Faith’s hand and up her arm. She blamed Tala’s higher body temperature.

Ah. So she had guessed correctly. Mirella’s sister was interested in Tala and looked forward to tomorrow’s feast, where the two packs would get together, so she could sniff around Tala!

Faith gritted her teeth. She couldn’t allow that. She had a role to play after all.

Mirella turned toward her as if noticing her for the first time. A reluctant smile crept onto her beautiful face. “I’m sure Lasandra will be delighted to meet you too.”

Wait! Lasandra? Mirella’s sister was Tala’s ex? Faith struggled to keep her face impassive, as if she had already known.

“Since we’re celebrating your twere, let me honor you by allowing you to go first.” Tala put emphasis on allowing and gestured toward the food-laden counters.

The two looked into each other’s eyes. Both appeared friendly enough, but Faith sensed an undercurrent of tension.

It was probably about the order in which pack members were allowed to get food. Mirella getting up right after Tala’s parents was a power move. Clearly, she thought her future husband would succeed Brennan as the pack’s alpha, so she should be allowed to serve herself before Tala did.

Mirella was a full head taller, but Tala didn’t back down.

Faith shifted closer and leaned her shoulder against Tala’s in a silent gesture of support.

Finally, Mirella was the first to lower her gaze. “I’m honored,” she murmured and walked past them to fill her plate.

Faith exhaled quietly.

Once Mirella had served herself, Faith followed Tala to the buffet.

The kitchen island seemed to nearly groan under the weight of a dozen platters of meats—ribs slathered in barbecue sauce, venison stew, lamb chops, fried chicken, and three whole turkeys.

The Petersons’ idea of a salad appeared to be a huge bowl of potato salad decorated with slices of hard-boiled eggs.

Faith served herself little bits of several dishes, including one that looked like a lasagna.

Once she was done, she turned toward Tala, who had heaped her plate high.

A chicken leg wobbled precariously on top of a pile of mashed potatoes as Tala carried her plate back to the table, moving like a gymnast on a balance beam.

“Your gold medal in gymnastics is coming in handy,” Faith commented.

Tala’s cheeks flushed as if she was embarrassed at the mention of her past as a gymnast, but she chuckled. “I knew it would be good for something one day.”

As soon as they sat, Tala’s oldest sister got up to serve herself, then the bearded uncle followed.

Everyone seemed to know exactly when it was their turn.

Their interactions had seemed completely random and chaotic to Faith at first, but the longer she watched them, the more she realized that they followed strict rules and hierarchies. Who was asked to refill everyone’s water glasses, who dared reach for the salt first, who got most space at the table…it all adhered to intricate, unspoken rules Faith didn’t understand.

Even touch seemed to be influenced by their pecking order. The higher-ranking pack members were usually the ones who established contact, she understood after a while.

Couples seemed to be the exception. Both partners touched each other freely and often…which meant she and Tala would have to do the same.

“Hand me the rolls,” Brennan said to no one in particular, as if trusting that someone would get him what he wanted.

Faith leaned across the table and reached for the basket of rolls, which rested next to Arlyn’s plate.

But Tala put her hand on Faith’s arm. “No. This”—she waved her free hand at the space around her sister—“is her territory. You don’t enter it unless you have permission…or a higher rank.”

“Don’t I?” Faith whispered back. “You’re the future natak, so you outrank her, and I’m your…mate.”

Tala twitched as if still getting used to the term. “Yes, but…Arlyn is special.”

Her sister handed Brennan the basket of rolls, then sent a gentle grin over at Tala. “Of course I am.”

Tala huffed at her. “I meant your job is.” She treated her siblings with a mix of authority, affection, and annoyance, but Faith sensed that the latter was as fake as their relationship.

Faith pierced a bit of the lasagna on her fork and studied Arlyn. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a physician,” Arlyn said. She seemed quiet and unassuming, clearly not an alpha, but now a proud strength shone in her amber-and-caramel eyes.

“That’s great. Do you work in the hospital in Silver Falls?” Did the little town even have a hospital?

Arlyn looked almost insulted. “No. I don’t treat humans. I studied Wrasa medicine under Doctors Brian and Gus Eldridge.”

Was she supposed to know who they were? Faith had no idea what to say, so she slid the fork into her mouth—and froze. What was that? Clearly, not lasagna. Probably some kind of root vegetable. It tasted like earth. She chucked down half her water.

Jemma beamed over at her. “Do you like it? It’s skiyo. My late father’s favorite dish. We make it for every family celebration to honor him.”

Oh damn. She would have to eat every last bite of it so she wouldn’t insult Tala’s grandfather. “Love it,” she mumbled and hoped that the mate scent perfume did its job and covered her lie.

She ate slowly, bravely swallowing the skiyo almost without chewing it, while she watched Tala’s family devour piles of food in record time.

When Tala had said “big family, big eaters,” she hadn’t been kidding!

Now Faith understood why they had two giant fridges in the kitchen.

She listened to the family’s lively chatter, which never stopped despite them shoveling down food as if there were no tomorrow. At the other end of the table, two of Tala’s aunts debated pack politics, while everyone else listened, spellbound, as Uncle Seth entertained them with a story about the forbidden romance between two colleagues who belonged to different Wrasa subspecies.

Faith bit back a grin. Who would have known! Fox-shifters were gossips!

Bursts of laughter came from the family room, where the younger cousins balanced their heaping plates on their knees. Every now and then, one of the youngsters came to the table to steal a roll.

Tala pretended to defend the basket with a fierce growl but then ruffled the boy’s hair and handed him a roll.

She was different here, with her family. One moment, she appeared fierce and primal, maybe because she competed with her brother for the role of future natak…or because she had to play the protective mate.

Yet at times, she was unexpectedly gentle and affectionate. Her love for her family radiated from her every pore, even though she tried to hide it behind a gruff exterior.

She was more touchy-feely than she was in DC too—not just with her family but with Faith too, and Faith wasn’t sure if the frequent touches were unconscious gestures or calculated moves to convince everyone their fake relationship was real.

Faith hadn’t expected any of it.

Truth be told, she hadn’t expected any Wrasa to be a family person. Her father had always told her they were primitive, with no real sense of loyalty and love.

Clearly, he was wrong. Their warm interaction sent a pang of longing through Faith because she hadn’t had that in too long. For most of her life, it had been only her father and her. The more time she spent with the Wrasa, the more she wondered if he was wrong about his other convictions about them too.

“You know, it’s considered rude to stare at a Wrasa while they eat,” Tala said without even glancing her way, as if she could feel Faith’s gaze on her.

“Maybe you should have taught your human wifey at least the basics of our culture before you brought her here,” Brennan’s youngest brother said from the other end of the table.

Faith flinched. So not everyone was as welcoming as it had appeared so far.

Tala glowered at him. Her hand tightened around her fork as if she was about to hurl it at him. “Maybe you need a few reminders of the dos and don’ts too—especially when it comes to hospitality.” She touched her shoulders to Faith’s. “Ignore Uncle Arnold. It’s not a big deal. It’s just that watching someone eat could make them think you want their food.”

“Oh God, no.” Faith pressed one hand against her belly. “I can barely finish my own plate as it is. Do you like these?” She gestured at the root vegetables.

“Sure.”

“Then help me finish them.” Faith quickly nudged a few forkfuls onto Tala’s plate, hoping Jemma wouldn’t see it—or if she did, would think she really was just stuffed.

Tala stared at the skiyo. “Uh…”

It was only then that Faith remembered what sharing food meant to the Wrasa.

Uncle Seth’s booming laughter nearly made Faith put her hands over her ears. “No need to hide it. Within half an hour of Trish discovering that Instagram reel, every last pack member knew you two were engaged.”

“I didn’t,” Tala’s silver-haired grandmother said from the other end of the table. She had been the only family member who hadn’t stepped outside to welcome them earlier. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She glared at her oldest son, then her daughter-in-law, and finally her grandchildren.

Each looked away—even Brennan!

What was happening?

“I thought she was just a kanme .”

Faith had no idea what that meant, but the expression on the old woman’s face made it sound like little plaything .

“Really?” Uncle Seth said quietly. “I know your nose is no longer the best, Ammakki, but I thought even you can’t miss their mate scent. It’s so strong, it’s making me a little dizzy.”

“Dizzy?” Seth’s mate, a clean-shaven guy who sat next to him, murmured. “It’s making me horny.” He fanned himself with both hands.

Tala’s grandmother shook her head. “It’s not real. Can’t you smell that?”

Faith’s heart started a rapid staccato beat against her ribs. Oh God! She was on to them! How could she tell? Her gaze darted to the rest of the pack to see how they would react.

Tala’s face was nearly as red as her hair, though Faith couldn’t tell if she was ashamed or furious. She threw her fork down and shoved her plate back. “Grandmother, with all due respect, I won’t let you—”

“Quiet!” Brennan snarled.

Silence enveloped the room. Even the teenagers and kids in the family room went quiet.

A shadow fell over the table as Brennan rose. “Faith is Tala’s mate and a guest in our home, Mother. You don’t have to like her, but I won’t let you treat her like this.”

The old woman slowly rose too. She hurled a few sentences across the table, in a language Faith didn’t understand, then nodded at the man to her right—Brennan’s youngest brother, Arnold.

He jumped up and escorted her out.

The dining room door closed after them with a resounding thud, echoing through the house.

Brennan’s shoulders heaved with a sigh.

Silence settled over the table, heavy and awkward, before everyone gradually resumed eating.

Tala wolfed down the skiyo Faith had heaped onto her plate with a defiant expression.

Jemma, who hadn’t said anything during the confrontation with Tala’s grandmother, pushed back her plate and stood.

Oh no. Was she about to walk out in protest too? Jemma had seemed so warm and welcoming so far.

“Time for dessert,” Jemma declared. She marched to the kitchen and returned with a baking dish. “I made something special for the two of you. I had no idea how much you love it until I saw the video, Tala.” She put the dish down between them.

It was a gesture that meant so much more than just going to the trouble to make a special dessert. She clearly intended them to share it—demonstrating that she accepted their relationship as something meaningful and lasting.

Too bad it wasn’t real.

Faith hung her head—and her gaze fell onto the dessert in the baking dish.

“Berry crumble!” she and Tala said at the same time.

They looked at each other.

Laughter threatened to bubble up. It was entirely inappropriate after Tala’s grandmother had walked out, so Faith tried with all her willpower to suppress it.

But when Tala burst out laughing, Faith completely lost it too.

She slumped against Tala and gripped her arm as laughter shook her in a release of tension.