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“If that’s not romantic, then what is,” deadpanned Lainie. She nodded at Arlo. “Come on. No getting off the hook.”

Arlo took a deep breath that felt like it aired out his entire soul.

“Lainie, Harrison—kids…” he began, and found himself grinning so wide he could barely get the words out. “This is my mate. Jacqueline March.”

“And this,” Jacqueline echoed him, wrapping one arm around his waist. “is mine. Arlo Hammond.”

Her eyes sparkled brighter than the sun on the waves.

“Jacqueline March, from that little town across the hill? How lovely. I believe I know your colleague, Deirdre,” announced a thin, educated voice from the shadows in the tunnel that led up to the top of Lighthouse Hill.

Arlo’s shoulders tensed. He knew that voice better than the back of his hand.

“Well, Arlo? Do introduce us. I might have heard of Jacqueline but I don’t believe we’ve actually met.”

Ma Sweets stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing her driving outfit, a neat aubergine skirt suit with a lilac scarf over her perfectly coifed hair. Her husband, Alan, wandered out behind her, looking as usual one good yawn away from falling asleep on his feet.

Arlo cleared his throat. “Jacqueline,” he said, trying not to show how much he was panicking, “these are my foster parents, Dorothy and Alan Sweets.”

*She’s human,* he added, speaking directly to the two alligator shifters, *and she’s my mate. I won’t have you say anything against her.*

*Dear, why would I say anything like that?* Ma Sweets replied, and the skin on the back of Arlo’s neck prickled.

Lainie set the table. Rather, it looked as though she’d been halfway through setting the breakfast table when Tally woke up and started crying. She put out an extra two places, reluctance in every line of her body.

“So you know Deirdre?” Jacqueline said, sounding cheerful.

“Through bridge.” Ma Sweets inclined her head. “Which is why we were absent this weekend. It is such a good way to keep abreast of what’s happening in the neighborhood. But of course we left the tournament as soon as Sharon called us with the news.”

Sharon Warbol was a plover shifter, and one of Ma Sweets’ oldest friends.

“Why the rush?” Arlo asked.

Ma Sweets opened her eyes wide. “To meet the children, of course! And it will do Deirdre good to win a tournament for once, poor dear.” She smiled at the kids and they shuffled their feet.

“Food’s up,” Lainie announced, sweeping between Ma Sweet and the kids. “Hope you all like pancakes.”

The atmosphere lightened as they all dug into the food. Ma Sweets managed to maneuver herself into sitting next to Jacqueline, but refrained from saying anything rude about humans, even when Kenna retold the story about how they’d had to run away from their human foster home.

“Well.” Ma Sweets winked at Kenna conspiratorially. “What a time you’ve all had! But never to worry. Pa and I are here now, and we’ll make sure you never have to do anything like that again.”

Kenna frowned. “But—”

“Sharon didn’t tell you?” Arlo cut in smoothly. His wolf’s coat was prickling with that sense of wrongness again. “They didn’t do it all on their own. They don’t need a foster home, just somewhere to rest up until their uncle Eric gets here.”

Dylan wriggled in his seat and Arlo knew what was coming. He shot a warning at Kenna before she told Dylan to shut up and her mouth snapped shut in a surprised scowl.

“What’s up, Dylan?”

“He’s not really our uncle…”

Arlo rubbed his forehead.

Jacqueline leaned forward. “Who is he, then?”

“He’s just… another shifter… who found us, and said he’d look after us, and take us somewhere safe…”

Until he abandoned you. Arlo gritted his teeth.


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