Skye puts her hand on Cicely’s shoulder. “My grandaddy was a cinnamon roll beta. He was sweet, but even Grandmama said that in the bedroom, you want a caveman if you can get one.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to fall for a caveman if he doesn’t want to savagely drag me by my hair back to his cave for more than just one hot night. Conundrums of a she-wolf,” Cicely says, looking to me.
“So, only alphas mate for life? And do that knot and bite thing?”
“Betas can mate for life too. Same as omegas. It all depends on the couple. Shifters in general have really low divorce rates. But it’s different with an alpha. Pretty much unbreakable. The divorce rate with alphas is less than a fraction of a percent.”
A fraction of a percent isn’t zero percent.
“But you can get a divorce from an alpha,” I say.
“The alpha has to request it. It’s pretty archaic,” Bailey mutters. “But thankfully it exists, or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Wait. Only the alpha? Not the woman?”
“Fact,” Cicely says, sipping her drink.
“You’re joking,” I hiss aggressively. “A woman can’t ask for a divorce? That’s outrageous!”
“Different packs have their own rules about mate rejections. In our pack, she can bring it to the council if she really wants one. And there will be a hearing. It hasn’t ever happened, but it’s in the books,” says Bailey. “And alphas very rarely ask for a severing.”
“Rarely?”
“Only in very rare circumstances, due to a total rejection. Either their mate is barren, or she’s done something completely unforgiveable. But even if he’s angry enough to ask for one, it’ll be a hard road from there. He’ll feel like something’s missing. Some alphas in other packs have gone crazy. Suicidal. Even if they were sure they hated their mate.”
My eyes bulge. “Infertility can mean she’s rejected?”
“It doesn’t always work out that way,” Skye puts in. “Some alphas will take on a concubine of sorts and keep their mate.”
My jaw drops.
“Or,” Skye continues, “in the case of my parents, I was adopted. My adoptive father was alpha, and he didn’t reject my mother or take on a mistress to ensure he carried on his family name. She had to have a total hysterectomy a few weeks after they mated in order to save her life. They adopted me and a couple years later, they adopted again so I wouldn’t grow up alone. My birth mother killed herself after I was born because her mate had been killed.”
“Oh my God, Skye. I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be. I was adopted by a wonderful family. And they adopted my sisters, too. Twins. We traveled together to pick them up from Malaysia.”
“They’re shifters, too?” I ask.
“There are shifter packs all over the world,” Bailey answers.
This all surprises me. Adoption agencies for wolf shifters?
I don’t let my heart go where it’s trying to go. Especially not with talk of mistresses. I stuff another caramel-drenched apple wedge into my mouth and then wash it down with more moonshine punch.
***
Three Hours Later
I’m drunk. And these girls are great. Absolutely fucking awesome. I love them!
I wish Mason’s mother could be my mother-in-law. She’s the most chill mother-in-law I could imagine. And she makes amazing moonshine punch. It sure does give you a punch, too. It goes down like fruit juice with a kick and then punches you in the brain because suddenly you can’t stop laughing and you wanna dance. Skye makes great snacks. And she’s so fucking nice!
I just announced that I wanna dance. So now Skye is staggering down to the shoreline to ask her hot husband to drive us to Roxy’s bar so we can dance. It apparently has a great juke box and an awesome dance floor. And chili fries!
The sky is changing colors, too, and Mason was right - it’s a different sunset than the last one I saw. Today, the sky is fuchsia and gray. And gorgeous.
“I want to take a picture of this sunset,” I say, leaning over the balcony and strangely not even spooked by the height for a change.
Skye and Andrew are necking. Like teenagers. I smile at first, then feel a little sad thinking about my folks. For a split second, I want my mom to have her happy ending as soon as possible. But the potential ramifications? What if there’s a shifter somewhere here for her? She’d lap that up based on what she said this morning. And Ivy seems to be all into her shifter, too. At least I think she is based on the way she and Tyson were all cuddled up on that gurney.
“The sky is definitely pretty,” Bailey agrees from beside me. She’s drunk, too. Though she’s only had three drinks. Then again, that punch packs a lot of punch.
Cicely seems to be holding her liquor better than the rest of us. She’s fun too, though. Just not nearly as wobbly as me, Skye, and Bailey.