The general stood and held out his hand. “Your uncle has been bragging about you. You are quite the attorney, I hear.”
“I try.” He turned to Preston. “This is my roommate, Preston Daniels. He owns our local gym.”
The general checked out Preston. “If you’re ever interested in joining my pack of werewolves, I bet we could use you.”
Preston laughed. “I think I’d need some lessons in fighting first.”
The general turned back to Uncle Adam and then sat down. “That is one reason why I wanted to see you. I have two men, Liam Zano and Alex Carter, who train men to defend themselves. They are in Canada at the moment, but they said after being on one of my missions, they realized they wanted to train more werewolves than are available in their part of the country.”
His uncle’s eyes widened. “What are we talking about? A weekend training session or something more permanent?”
“Liam and Alex would like to open a business in Wildwood since your extensive family consists of a lot of potential clients. Their predecessor, Rider Scott, started the business, but he’s since moved back to Florida. Liam said that another member of the team is interested in running their rather small operation.”
Uncle Adam looked over at Benson and then Preston. “What do you think? If I added up all of the Grangers and the Weston cousins, we could fill up a school.”
Benson chuckled. “Could we call ourselves Granger’s wolfpack?”
“I doubt your cousins would appreciate that. Maybe you can dub yourselves, the Montana Pack, but of course, it would have to be a secret.” His uncle smiled, even though he was deadly serious.
Benson liked the sound of that. “As long as we could train when we had time, I think it’s an excellent idea.”
His uncle leaned forward. “Why the sudden interest in embracing your werewolf side? You’ve never mentioned a desire to do a lot of physical work.”
That hurt his ego. “I did chores on the ranch until I went to school, and it was hard work.”
“I know it was, but that was what? Fourteen years ago?”
Now he sounded like Preston. “I see your point. That brings me to why we’re here.” He turned to the general. “We can come back if you two want to continue chatting.”
“If something illegal is going on, I’m all ears,” General Armand said.
Between Benson and Preston, they explained about the death of Trent Williamson’s girlfriend and how Benson had prosecuted him.
“What are you implying?” his uncle asked. “That I wasn’t thorough in my investigation?”
“Not at all. It turns out that Trent didn’t provide you all of the information. He didn't want to incriminate himself.”
His uncle nodded. “That’s why you visited him in prison. Can I ask why the sudden interest in opening up a case you just finished? I’ve never known you to follow up before.”
Benson nodded to Preston. He’d do a better job explaining.
“Against all odds, it turns out that Ariel Williamson is our mate.”
General Armand instantly grinned, whereas his uncle studied them both. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, we’re sure,” Preston said with conviction. “Benson was the first to find out, but he never said anything to me until I met Ariel.”
“That’s because I was in denial.” Benson turned back to his uncle. “You know how hard it can be for a human to accept our kind.”
“A word of advice, son?” the general cut in.
“Please.”
“Wait until she is hopelessly in love with both of you. Then tell her. Though if you are in a fight, and she sees how quickly you heal, you might have to reveal that secret sooner than you’d planned on.”
“That makes sense, but how do I control all the signs—like my eyes turning color or my teeth sharpening?” Benson asked.
The general shook his head. “You have it bad, I see. It’s called control. Think of something else—like this woman walking out of your life. That should sober you up.”