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“I’m not worried about that.”

“I haven’t shifted in over twenty years, not since I was a baby and even that I don’t remember. I’m worried about it.”

“You’re a werewolf attending a full-moon ceremony with two kings present.” He smiled like this should explain away my fear. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t help.”

“Secret, trust me.”

“But—”

“No, no buts. You have active werewolf blood in you. I don’t care how many shields you have up, or how deeply you think you’ve buried that part of you. No werewolf can resist the shift when they are in the presence of their king. None.”

“Boy will your face be red tomorrow when I prove your theory wrong.”

“Actually it will be furry and sort of golden, from what I’ve been told.” He got up and crouched in front of me, taking my hands in his and kissing my forehead. The wrinkling of his nose didn’t escape my attention. “Now go have a shower and I will take you to the ceremony site so you know what to expect.”

I smelled like raspberries and anxiety.

The werewolf ceremony site was deep in the oak forest, in a clearing with a giant fire pit in the middle that reminded me way too much of my dream with Mercy. I’d never been here before, but the details were spot-on. It made my stomach queasy.

At least this time I was wearing clothes.

Lucas tracked the circumference of the fire pit, prattling on about the way tomorrow’s ceremony would go. Goody, I got to attend two rehearsals and two weddings in one week. Both of them mine. I didn’t want to get married here. My pack was in New York. Those were my people.

And what about Desmond?

Oh God. What about Desmond? This felt like such a betrayal because I couldn’t explain the circumstances to him ahead of time. I would come home married in the eyes of werewolves everywhere, and I hadn’t given him a chance to prepare himself. I couldn’t even call to tell him. He was out at the mansion with the rest of the pack preparing for their own rituals. I wanted to call him right then, but not only did my cell phone not work, could I really explain something like this to him over the phone? What could I say? The only proper way to talk about it was in person, and there just wasn’t going to be time.

“Secret, are you listening?”

“No.”

He came around the unlit fire pit and stood in front of me. “This is important.”

“It isn’t right. We should be doing this at home.”

“I don’t know if we’ll get a second chance to continue with Callum’s permission. He could revoke his approval at any moment, and then where will we be?”

“Square one. I think we’re pretty familiar with it by now.”

Lucas forced a smile. I could always tell when he was faking his smiles because there was no warmth in his eyes. I crossed my arms over my chest and didn’t return the disingenuous expression.

“I don’t like it either,” he admitted.

“And it wasn’t what he and I agreed to.”

“Well, he agreed to let us get married. Did you specify the when and where?”

I gritted my teeth. “Fucking loopholes.”

He hugged me. “If I explain it again, will you listen this time?”

“Can I be glib?”

“As if I could stop you.”

We walked back to where the ceremony would begin, and he went over what Callum would say, what Lucas and I would be expected to do. The process wouldn’t take long, and there wasn’t too much to remember. A little song and dance, some professions of love, my promise to honor and obey—pfft—and some run-of-the-mill blood sharing.


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal