by Emma Roman
“I agree. You know she expected more resistance from all of us.” It was like she offered him this kernel of information, a clue. He was a sharp enough pounce, he followed the scent.
“Truly? Did she really think we wanted her alone?”
“No, because Linc can be a little rough around the edges, but he’s a good man. And, yes, because he’s from another pack. That played a part.”
So she was close enough to Serafina to be considered a confidant. While that whittled his list down some, it didn’t offer him fresh options. Too bad he hadn’t paid more attention at social functions. His job had been to ferret out the threats, not the friends.
“It’s more than that though. It’s taken years for everyone to truly settle into her leadership. She’s worked very hard to maintain a balance. Mating changes the balance. Not everyone’s ready for it. Even when a couple is perfect for each other, those around them must adjust and make room, as do the mated pair. Some friendships are diminished, not because they’re not worthy, but because a mate fills so many roles, as they should. He is the one wolf in the whole pack whose only interest is taking care of her. She has to protect us all, but he protects her. While, at the same time, he must share her with the whole pack. Not a lot of men can handle that responsibility.”
“It’s an honor to be chosen by an alpha—to be chosen by any woman.” Not that Hugo was in any great hurry to discover what an honor it really was, but that was the right thing to say. “A mating represents the future. It is the culmination of the past, tied up neatly into a bow.” He glanced in and found Christopher feeding his mate. They were laughing as they devoured the king cake together. Each feeding the other with their fingers. Yes, Christopher was happy. His wild hellion of a younger brother had discovered something precious in Rachel, though the story of how they’d met still amused him.
“It’s a pity that sometimes mates can’t recognize each other right off. It’s not always mate at first sight.”
He’d aroused her interest with that statement; he felt the weight of her focus shift to him. “Most often it just simply requires a knowledge. Wolves are human, too, of course, and we’re very busy. In times like these, it can be even harder to see the promise or the potential that’s there.”
“Yeah, but to go to a matchmaker? Really?” He stared at his brother and shook his head. “You have to be pretty desperate to ask someone else to find your mate for you.”
“Is that what you think a matchmaker does?” A thin, hard layer edged her words.
“I have no idea what a matchmaker does. I’ve never needed one, nor would I ever seek one. The very idea that some wolf takes one look at me, gets my scent, and then goes willy-nilly through the pack to find the other wolf that matches it before returning to tell me whom they’ve chosen—that’s bullshit.” He couldn’t keep the derision out of his voice.
Matchmakers might be a part of Delta Crescent and dated back to their founding, but that was like saying the fortunetellers in the quarter were the only way to get a bead on what was coming down the pike. They had enough voodoo in the pack.
“Only a fool asks an outsider for assistance in finding who is meant for them. Now, Christopher and Rachel would’ve found each other eventually. They just needed to be patient. Besides, the matchmaker still has to identify the scent and then see if she can match it to another wolf. It’s only one factor and a gamble at that. You can’t tell who your mate is going to be until you get to know them. None of it is fait accompli.”
“So, you think the matchmaker is what? A jester for the pack? A false hope to those around her?”
“I think she’s just like any other curiosity in New Orleans. Here to please the tourists.”
“Well, that’s utterly fascinating, Mr. Ferrar. Thank you for your insight.”
“Lesley-Anne,” Serafina called as she came to the door with Lincoln quick in close attendance. “There you are. This party is every bit as much you for you as it is for the happy couple. Get in here and dance.”
Lesley-Anne? Lesley-Anne Saucier? Hugo’s hackles rose.
The woman straightened and inclined her head toward their alpha. “I was just getting some air and a lesson on the tomfoolery of having a matchmaker in the pack from Mr. Ferrar here.”
Oh shit.
“He’s been quite illuminating on how utterly touristy my talents are. Isn’t it fascinating?” She turned and met his gaze. Amidst the laughter in her eyes, he glimpsed a hint of hurt and his wolf snarled. “It’s been fascinating talking to you Mr. Ferrar. Good evening.” With that, she whirled then stalked away, her skirt flowing behind her. She paused to give Serafina kiss on the cheek and to receive one in return before disappearing into the rest of the party.
Unfortunately, Serafina did leave him alone to lick the wounds of his idiocy. “You really stepped into that one, didn’t you Hugo?”
“Why, yes, ma’am, I think I did.”
“Fix it.” With that, Serafina took Linc’s hand and they returned to the party as well.
Shit. Hugo drained his beer in one long swallow. Not only had he discovered a fascinating woman to captivate his interest, it turned out she was the pack matchmaker.
What did he do? He insulted the hell out of her.
Now his alpha gave him an order.
Fix it.
So much for vacation.
3
Lesley-Anne fled back into the crowd of the party. The music shifted once more, and the dancers on the floor twirled and swung each other around. It was a familiar dance, showed up at most parties, only this time in their topcoats and tails and party finery, it looked like a scene out of a Disney movie.
Unlike the Cinderella she never planned on being, Lesley-Anne found her escaped hemmed in by the crowd surging toward the dance floor. Lifting her skirt to keep from tripping on her gown, she picked up the pace. She hadn’t missed the look in Serafina’s eyes. Her incredibly sharp alpha had seen Lesley-Anne’s upset. Though the wolf didn’t want the attention, she knew it would draw her alpha’s curiosity.
She spent too many long nights over the years debating philosophy and the psychology of interactions with her alpha to expect anything else. Their friendship was founded on mutual respect and a deep fascination with the psyche of both wolves and humans alike—what drove them to make choices. Whether they were debating it from a historical viewpoint or contemporary one, it didn’t matter. Taking place after 2 AM, those conversations were some of the best of her life. They’d delved into a myriad of topics after the wine had left them both with sore heads and looser inhibitions.
She also hadn’t missed the stunned look on Hugo’s face. For one brief, twisted second, she’d actually felt bad for him. He had no idea he’d insulted her, and his scent roiled with aggravation and no small amount of guilt. The problem was, as bad as she felt for him, both emotions he experienced had been aroused by being caught insulting her rather than by his words. Anonymity provided a greater window into the soul than anything else. It was one of the ways she did her job.
She just made it to the far side of the ballroom when Rachel caught her arm. The newly mated female squee’d in delight. Then Lesley-Anne had an armful of a hug, which Christopher joined as the man and his mate surrounded her with affection, capped off when each of the wolves pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Rachel said, her voice alive with her happiness. The simple joy radiating off each of them was almost enough to chase away the shadows of Lesley-Anne’s upset.
“No, you haven’t, silly ones. I saw you dancing. You’re completely wrapped up in each other, and that’s how it should be.” She slid into her role perfectly. Nothing should diminish their happiness today. Not some embarrassment on her part, or wounded feelings, or even the blow her pride had taken with Hugo’s dismissal of her place in the pack.
“True, we have been dancing,” Christopher said, but the smile never left his mouth. His gaze rested almost steadily on his mate—on and off,
as though he could hardly believe she was right there with him. It took everything Lesley-Anne had not to just say awww. Her heart swelled at the sight of the adoration Christopher reserved for Rachel. Adoration his mate shared, as they held hands, their fingers interlaced even as they directed their words to Lesley-Anne. Their attention was quite firmly attached to each other.
“But we did dance, and the dancing was magical, and this party is magical, and thank you.” This time, Rachel grasped Leslie Ann’s hand in her own and gave it a squeeze even as Christopher took her other hand. Thankfully, she’d gotten rid of her drink on the way through.
“She’s right, we can’t ever repay this debt. Our gratitude knows no bounds.”
“That’s enough of that.” Lesley-Anne knew her duty, and it was very important that any pair she helped bring together understood as well. “All I did was help smooth the way to the path so you could find it. Everything else was up to you two. Were you suited to each other? Absolutely. But just being suited doesn’t make a mating happen. Nor does it make for a happy couple. Sometimes, the path is obstructed or you don’t know where to look. I’m a helpful guide and nothing more.”
To her surprise, it was Christopher who narrowed his eyes then looked from his mate to her. With a sober and serious expression, he said, “There is a difference between sweeping the path of leaves and giving one a swift boot to the ass to actually get on the path because as we’re staring at it we don’t know whether it’s a path or a banana.”
She would not laugh. She would not laugh. “Absolutely.”
Rachel laughed for her, a deep, belly laugh which seemed to ignite her whole being until she shone like an angel. “Yes, and there is a difference between turning the light on and dragging one kicking and screaming out of the shadows because you’re too afraid of what you might find in the light to actually go and look.”
“Did mating turn you two into poets?” It was very much time to take the spotlight off herself and put it back on the couple.
“Not at all,” Rachel said as she released Lesley-Anne’s hand and slid her arms around her mate. “We’re just so damn happy. I didn’t think this kind of happiness was possible. It’s like, we know the rest of the world still has issues and there are still things that we need to do, but were stronger together. And I thank you, Lesley-Anne. You can dismiss your involvement all you want, but we know the truth. You’re not alone.”
Had the rumor mill run so swiftly that they’d already heard what Hugo had said? Stomping down on the embers of humiliation trying to flame up within her again, Lesley-Anne settled on a smile. “It was my absolute and utter pleasure. Seeing the two of you together brings me no end of joy. I am so very happy for you both.”
Thankfully, at that moment, the music changed and Rachel began to bounce. It was her favorite song. Christopher paused to give Lesley-Anne a quick kiss to the cheek then a wink before he and his mate were off dancing and laughing all the way across the floor. The dancers swung wide, allowing them access as though welcoming them into their embrace, and then closed around them until she could no longer see them.
Releasing a sigh, one that mingled her relief along with her joy, she whirled to continue her escape and slammed straight into Hugo.
He caught her, helping her maintain her balance rather than letting her fall on her ass. It was already bad enough she was running from him, did he have to stand there, too?
“Someone should put a bell on you,” she snapped, then pushed away from his hands. She didn’t want him holding her up or anything else. It didn’t matter that he smelled like ice cream on a hot summer’s day, or the sweetness of orchids and honeysuckle perfuming the humid air of her gardens.
She really needed to stop comparing his scent to the world around her. Especially her favorite things. She needed to be able to look a bowl of ice cream in the eye later not imagine herself licking Hugo up and…
“A bell?” The surprise on his face added to the question in his eyes.
The hell was he talking about? Oh—dammit, focus. “Just don’t sneak up on people. Is it really so difficult for you? And don’t you know there’s a party going on.?”
The surprise in his expression became to caution as he glanced to the party around them and back to her. “Why, yes, I walked through the party. I saw you talking to Chris and Rachel, so I gave you a moment of privacy. You ran into me remember?”
Belatedly, she accepted that as fact. She had indeed turned to run only to slam square into him.
“In that case, excuse me.” Gathering the tattered remnants of her pride along with her skirt, she circled around him and made for the door. So much for a graceful exit. One of the footmen standing at the door opened it for her. Grateful she didn’t have to make a fool out of herself there, she nodded to him then she was out of the ballroom and into the main hallway. The plantation house been in Serafina’s family for generations and, though they had added on to it over the years creating quite a grand estate, it still looked just like Serafina’s house to Lesley-Anne. She’d run in the same corridors as a child, playing hide and seek. Continuing up the hallway, she nodded to passing waiters and waitresses as they hurried back toward a party with trays full of food and drink. It was barely 10 PM and the party was just getting started.
At the end of the hallway, she entered the grand foyer. Three levels of open space, lined by balustrades looking into the foyer downstairs, while a grand staircase descended from the second floor—where she was currently—to the first. The golden parquet floor and the red carpet on the steps demonstrated an opulence few places could match. Serafina’s father had updated the entryway for Serafina’s mother, an addition to creating a fairytale castle. That almost, but not quite, matched the extensive library he’d also installed.
That library was one of Lesley-Anne’s favorite places in the world. Two thousand plus square feet of nothing but books.
Suppressing a shiver, she hurried for the steps then descended them two at a time. It was a pity the skirt was quite so bulky, as she would prefer to run.
“Hey,” Hugo said catching her arm on the last step. At the same moment, her heel broke and she damn near went flying forward–if not for Hugo holding her. He caught her momentum, swinging her around until he held her as though dipping her in a dance. A halo of angels seemed to surround him from the painted ceiling above.
“What are you doing?” Heart hammering, she glared at the stunning image of his face so close to hers.
“Keeping you from falling on your ass,” Hugo said.
“Who asked you for help? Stop touching me.” Good God, she had to get away from him. Her wolf literally writhed inside of her, desperate for this contact, and his touch sent electricity arcing through her. Between the full moon, the party, and all the romance in the air, of course she was going a little bit crazy.
“Do you really want me to let you go?” Hugo’s frown echoed in his eyes. All she had to do was stretch, then wrap her arm around his neck, and she could be kissing…
“Yes.” It came out more of a barked command than she intended. “I didn’t ask you to touch me in the first place. And certainly no one asked you to save me.”
“Very well.” He released her and she fell. The hard tile floor beneath her butt and back hurt, but she managed to keep from cracking her head. Hugo straightened and slid his hands into his pockets. His mask rested atop his head, and the corner of his mouth began to twitch.
“You are an asshole.” So much for pride. What little of it she had left shattered when her ass hit the tile. Of course, he wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t demanded he release her. Then again, he also knew she would land on her ass, and he could have quite easily straightened her up stood on her feet before releasing her.
But, no, he simply dropped her.
“Lady said she wanted me to let her go. Never let it be said I don’t listen to ladies.” He was having way too much fun at her expense. Ignoring the way her skirt rode up, she fought her way to her feet. Not once
did Hugo offer assistance, nor did he try to grab her again.
Standing, she smoothed down her dress,then stared at him. “Thank you for listening to me.”
Humiliating or not, he’d released her when she demanded it. “Good evening.” With that, she resumed her course for the main entrance, but barely made it two steps before her broken heel made walking a tipsy turvy process. The wild urge to stomp her feet and growl at the world raced over her, and was just as equally just as easily extinguished. It didn’t matter how annoying her experience, she was a lady. This had been drilled into her from her youth. She could be as strong as she liked, and as tough as she needed to be. She always had to demonstrate grace under pressure.
Taking a couple of limping steps to the left, she braced herself hand on a small table then lifted her feet one at a time to tug off her shoes. She held up the broken heeled one and shook her head. It was quite the wreck. Alas, the vintage shoes had been some of her favorites, and now they were toast.
“Can you fix them?” His quiet question surprised her. She pivoted to find Hugo studying her. Genuine interest flared in both his scent and his tone. He looked like such a rake standing there, all tall, dark, and handsome—and eminently sexy with a hint of five o’clock shadow. He probably hadn’t even shaved for the event, but then why should he bother? He looked fantastic all rumpled, and even better in his suit.
“I have no idea. They used to be my mother’s. I’ll have to see if I can take them to a cobbler. Good night.”
She made it another step before Hugo said, “Why are you running away from me?”
Danger lurked in his question—danger which stiffened her spine and put woman and wolf both on alert. He’d noticed her fleeing. The danger in his observation lie squarely in provoking his wolf to chase.
