Page 7 of Wedding for My Werewolf (Fairhaven Falls #7)

CHAPTER 7

E ric sighed as he approached his mother’s house, already dreading the upcoming conversation. They’d lived in a much smaller home when he was a child, but she’d convinced his father to build them a new house when his father became Alpha. Like everything else his mother touched, it gleamed pristine and perfect in the morning light, but it had never felt like home. And the conversation ahead promised to be anything but perfect.

The front door opened before he reached the porch. His mother stood there, elegant in her cream sweater and pearls, her dark hair swept into an immaculate updo.

“Eric! What a lovely surprise.” She beckoned him inside with a wave of her manicured hand. “I was just about to call you.”

He followed her into the sitting room, where sunlight streamed through lace curtains onto antique furniture that hadn’t moved an inch since the day they moved in.

“Mother, I need to tell you something.”

She perched on the edge of her favorite wingback chair, hands clasped.

“At last! I knew you and Lila would hit it off.” Her face lit up. “She comes from such good breeding, you know. Her grandfather was?—”

“This isn’t about Lila,” he said sharply, and her smile faltered.

“But she said you two had such chemistry. And her family’s connections to the Northern packs would be invaluable for?—”

“I’ve chosen someone else.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. His mother’s fingers tightened around each other until her knuckles went white.

“Someone… else?” She blinked rapidly. “But Lila said you were perfect together. She told me just yesterday that you?—”

“Lila was mistaken.” His wolf bristled at the memory of her unwanted advances. “And so were you.”

His mother’s face brightened again. “Oh! Is it Catherine from the Tennessee pack? I heard she was visiting her cousins, and she’s just as lovely as?—”

“Mother.” The word came out as a low growl. “I’ve chosen Robin. She’s human, and new in town.”

The color drained from his mother’s face, as her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. The pearls around her neck clinked as she pressed a hand to her chest.

“A human?” The words came out as a horrified whisper. “Eric, you can’t possibly—the Pack would never?—”

“The Pack will accept my choice.” His wolf surged forward, an underlying growl to his words. “Just as you will.”

“But think of your position! Your responsibility?—”

“I don’t have a position, and I don’t want a position. I’m simply a member of the Pack.” He took a step closer, towering over her chair. “Robin is my choice. My mate. And you will welcome her.”

His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, the same expression she’d worn when he’d refused to attend law school.

“But there’s never been a human mate in the Grayson line.”

“Times change. And so will you. I’m bringing Robin to the next Pack meeting. I expect you to treat her with respect.”

Tears welled in his mother’s eyes—the same tactical display she’d used throughout his childhood.

“What will people say? What about the council?”

“They’ll say nothing because my mate is not up for discussion. Are we clear?”

His mother’s shoulders slumped as she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “The next Pack meeting?”

He straightened, satisfied he’d made his point.

“Yes. And Mother?” He waited until she met his gaze. “No more surprise guests. No more eligible Pack females. It’s over.”

Her eyes narrowed, the mournful expression vanishing. “Is she really your choice? Or are you just trying to avoid mating with a suitable female?”

He stared at her, anger simmering in his veins.

“She’s my choice,” he bit out. “Goodbye, Mother.”

He spun on his heel and left, her shocked face lingering behind him as he stalked back to his office. He slammed the door behind him, still irritated by his mother’s tears and her efforts to manipulate him. Why had her disbelief bothered him so much? His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin as he yanked off his jacket and tossed it over a chair.

A sharp knock cut through the silence. His nostrils flared—Callan’s scent carried through the door, mixed with snow and disapproval.

“Come in.” He crossed his arms as Callan entered, noting the tight set of the alpha’s jaw.

Callan was a big male, not quite as tall as Eric but with a heavier build. The alpha might be twenty years older than him, but he would never make the mistake of thinking that made him weak.

“Your mother called.”

“Of course she did,” he snapped “Come to talk me out of it?”

“A human mate? You’re smarter than this, Eric.”

“If you’re here to spew prejudice?—”

“This isn’t about prejudice.” Callan’s fist struck the wall, leaving a dent in the wood paneling. “It’s about history. About what happens when humans get too close to Pack business.”

“Robin is different.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“You don’t know her.”

“Neither do you.” Callan stepped closer. “How much do you really know about this woman who appeared out of nowhere?”

His wolf surged forward, a growl building in his chest. “Enough.”

“Think about the Pack. About your position. About?—”

“I’ve thought about nothing else for years, and I still have no intention of becoming Alpha. My choice is made.”

Callan opened his mouth but before he could say anything, the door opened and Flora waltzed in. He bit back an exasperated sigh, hoping she wasn’t going to make things worse.

“Now, now, Callan,” Flora said cheerfully. “You’re not still holding onto ancient history, are you?”

Callan’s face shifted from anger to something Eric had never seen before—guilt.

“This isn’t?—”

“Isn’t what?” Flora’s eyes sparkled gleefully. “Isn’t like that summer by Miller’s Creek? When a certain someone convinced a certain alpha-to-be that humans weren’t so bad after all?”

Callan’s neck turned red.

“That was different. And you know what happened after?—”

“What happened was you let fear win.” Flora hooked a small green hand through Callan’s arm. “Now come along. I need someone tall to help me reorganize my bookshelf.”

“I don’t?—”

“Wasn’t a request, dear.” Flora winked at him as she steered a stunned-looking Callan toward the door. “Some wolves need reminding that the past is past.”

He watched them disappear down the street, Flora’s cheerful chatter fading into the distance, then shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Trust Flora to defuse a confrontation by dropping a bombshell of her own.

But his smile soon faded and once again he found himself pacing his office. His wolf prowled beneath his skin, anxious to collect their mate. Their fake mate, he reminded himself, but the words rang hollow.

The memory of her eyes haunted him, the way they’d widened when he’d suggested this arrangement. The slight tremor in her hands as she’d listed her conditions. His wolf had recognized something in that moment—not just fear, but a deep, raw hurt.

The same hurt he’d glimpsed that evening by the river, reflected in the water’s dark surface.

He’d told himself this was about convenience—protection for her, freedom from his mother’s matchmaking for him. Clean. Simple. But the spark that had jumped between them when they’d shaken hands… that had been anything but simple.

His wolf pushed against his control, demanding he acknowledge the truth. This wasn’t just about duty or practicality. He wanted to know her story, to understand what put that wariness in her eyes. To earn her trust, not just claim it through some arranged agreement.

His wolf rumbled in satisfaction at the admission. He sighed and returned to his chair. He had reports to complete, but instead he found himself opening the database on his computer and typing in Thatcher’s name.

A match popped up immediately. Rick Thatcher, bounty hunter. Licensed, but with multiple complaints of excessive force. His jaw tightened as he scrolled through the reports. Thatcher specialized in finding people who didn’t want to be found.

The pieces were beginning to make sense. Robin’s fear. Her conditions. The way she startled at sudden movements.

His wolf snarled, protective instincts rising, and he sat back, rubbing his temples. Whatever Robin was running from, Thatcher had tracked her here. The thought of her being hunted made his blood boil.

He picked up his phone, dialing a contact in the state police. “Dave? Yeah, I know it’s late. Need information on a bounty hunter named Rick Thatcher.”

The response made his grip tighten on the receiver. Thatcher had a reputation for bringing in his targets by any means necessary. Three of them had ended up in the hospital.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

He hung up, his decision made. Thatcher needed to leave Fairhaven Falls—before his wolf decided to make the point personally.