Page 16

Wilder

When Rumor came out to check on the quail, I instantly sensed that something was wrong. Her movements were stiff—similar to when she first came to us, like she didn’t know what was okay to do and what wasn’t. What happened?

“They’re getting big,” I said, making small talk and realizing how obvious I was because, while the quail were growing, they were never going to be big.

“Yeah, they are.” There was no effect in her tone, just enough words to answer.

I put my hand on her cheek. “Rumor, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. I mean, it’s not nothing. My sister called, and it was weird. I need to talk to you guys about it. But also, I need to take care of the birds, and it’s just...a lot.” She pressed her forehead to mine.

“How about I help you with these little guys, and then we’ll go find the rest of the pack and talk about it. Because I’m getting the sense, and correct me if I’m wrong, but it would be better to get this over with.”

“Yeah, okay.”

And then she did something I dreamed of but never dared hope for—she pressed a sweet kiss against my lips. It was brave. So brave. And it had my entire body alive, and my wolf wanted out.

We fed the quail together, cleaned up their messes, and ended with Rumor’s favorite game: Count the quail. It sounded like an easy game. It wasn’t. She might be able to tell them all apart, but I sure couldn’t—and they never stayed still. But eventually, we were confident they were all here, and none of the little escape artists had gotten out, which wasn’t always the case.

Then we joined the others in the garden, where they were building a raised bed. It was a present for Rumor, one she didn’t know was hers yet.

“Pack meeting!” I called out, not wanting to add the burden of starting the conversation to our mate. She was already having a rough enough time.

“Inside meeting or outside meeting?” Vargas asked.

And Rumor sat down. “Here is good.”

And really, that’s the only reason he asked where we were having the meeting. Because we’d always been on-the-fly kind of meeting people. We didn’t have the formal runs and all that gobbledygook some of the larger packs thought necessary.

“Do you want me to start?” Penn reached out and put his hand on hers.

“Yes, please.”

Penn told us how her sister had called and how she was acting—what I considered predatory. He had called it weird, but regardless, she’d been asking about mate marks and heat, while at the same time talking about how her mates wanted her sister. That didn’t add up to goodness. And it sure didn’t add up to sisterly love.

“Do you think we need to do anything?” Rumor asked. “Not like go kill them. Because, you know—”

Vargas chuckled. “That’s exactly what I want to do—kill them. At least, my wolf does. He figures we can take ’em.”

“I’m sure you can,” she said. “But let’s skip that.”

“I propose that we just leave it...until we know we shouldn’t.” I wasn’t sure it was my best idea, but it was the best one I could come up with.

And this was a very informal pack. We ate together every meal—it’s not like we wouldn’t have time to talk about it again if someone changed their opinion on the matters at hand.

We all agreed it was best to have a wait-and-see approach.

And then, being me, I forgot to think through my next question, just blurted it out there. “Are you still on suppressants?”

We knew she wasn’t on the scent blockers, although she’d worn some when we went to the farmer’s market. But suppressants—that wasn’t something we’d necessarily know anything about unless she shared.

In a lot of ways, it wasn’t our business. It was her body. She got to make the decisions about what happened to it—not only as it related to us but also as it related to her heat cycle. If she wanted to avoid them, then she should. But if she decided it was time for us to have pups, then that was her choice as well.

“Yeah. I’m still on them. Are you mad?”

“Oh no, sweetheart. Never mad.” Vargas kissed the top of her head. “Never mad. We would never force you to be on them or off them. You are the one who decides.”

“Thank you. Thank—and I know you’re probably wondering, but I’m going to tell you. But it’s really embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about anything with us.”

“I know about embarrassment.” It was time for me to lighten things up, and I did by talking about the time I farted at the dinner table and it smelled so bad we all had to go wait outside for it to dissipate. It hadn’t actually been that bad, but the way I told the story had her laughing again.

I could already sense her calming down.

“I want you to know,” Vargas began, “that we want you to be ours. And that us saying it’s up to you on your suppressant usage isn’t our way of stating that we don’t want you. You are already ours.”

I picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “And when you’re ready for more, we’ll be there.”

She blushed. We already knew she and Penn had slept together last night—in the same bed, anyway. There were no secrets in our house.

“I was thinking of something,” she said. Her gaze was focused on the floor, which meant it was something difficult for her to say. That was one of her big tells.

“I-I want to be with you, too. And I’m ready. But I want to mate you before my first heat. I don’t want my first time with you guys to be when I’m in a heat-crazed frenzy. I want to remember every part of it. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” I said, pulling her onto my lap. “It makes 100 percent sense.”

Vargas and Penn flanked me, and the three of us wrapped our arms around her, holding her close.

She was ours.