by DD Prince
“What’s her name?” I point to an older lady walking by our table with her dessert plate.
“Fran Callahan,” he says.
Oh. Okay.
I gesture to a child who is climbing up on the stage, looking up to no good. “What’s that little boy’s name?”
“Declan. He’s Shepherd and Lorraine Creed’s son. He’s three. And he likes Paw Patrol.”
I do a double-take. That little boy did try to tell Tyson his life story when he was introduced.
“What about her?” I gesture to another lady.
“Bailey’s mother, Carrie Blackwood.”
“Holy shit,” I say.
He looks at me like he doesn’t understand.
“You remember every single name of every single person here, Tyson?”
“Of course I do. I just met them.”
I give my head an astonished shake. Wow.
Bailey comes back.
“What’s your mom’s name again?” I ask.
“Carrie,” says Bailey as she sits down.
“And that little boy up there?” I see that little boy’s father fetching him. The boy is throwing a temper tantrum.
“That’s Declan.”
Holy crap.
“You didn’t believe me?” Tyson sounds affronted.
“It’s astonishing. He remembers all of your names. All of them. Is that a shifter thing?”
Bailey shakes her head. “It’s a Tyson thing. His father was the same. So was his father. These guys are stewards for their pack. They look after us like a shepherd tends his flock.” She shrugs.
“So, no one else knows all their names?” I ask.
“Well, yeah. We all do but we’ve grown up together. So there’s a difference.”
Tyson is definitely their leader. She looks at him with a knowing expression. He stares at her a second and then at me and I can tell he knows this. Maybe he’s coming to grips with it, too.
Maybe this guy isn’t just supernatural in his ability to transform from man to wolf to man again. Maybe he’s figuring out who he is. The intended shepherd of this flock of wolf shifters.
“Wanna go see your house and skip the next part of the party?” Bailey asks. “It’s about to get started and you’ll likely find it boring.”
“Yes!” I exclaim.
Ty looks at me and he looks a little unsure.
“Can we?” I ask.
He sucks on his teeth for a second and then puts his hand on mine.
I put my free hand on top. “Sorry. If it’s gonna be too much emotionally…”
“No. Let’s go,” he says and gets up. “I was interested in the next part, but don’t worry.”
“Oh. Sorry. We should stay.”
“Don’t worry,” he says.
“Are you sure?”
He nods. “I am. Let’s go.”
Bailey leans over to speak to Cat and then we all rise.
“I’ll run us over,” Cat says, and we head out together to approach her SUV.
“How far is it?” I ask.
“Down the street from my clinic. Close.”
Bailey calls out, “Shotgun!” and gets to the front door.
“Where?” Ty pulls me tight to him.
“That’s Bailey claiming the front seat,” I tell him.
“Oh,” he says quietly, loosening his grip.
“Are you okay with this? I mean, you said you wanted to stay tonight, so… ”
He nods but he doesn’t look so sure.
“I’m sorry if my reaction made you feel on the spot. Or if you want to watch the presentation thing, we can do that. Just come after. Or we can just go back to the cabin.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s fine. If I didn’t want to, I’d say no. I wanted to spend the night to continue… ” He trails off, looking like he’s searching for the right words.
“Taking things in?” I offer.
He nods, opening the door for me so I climb in. He makes a grunt sound and then gets in.
“You okay?” I ask.
He leans over. “Your sweet ass was just about in my face for a second and it’s been too long since I was inside of you.”
“Tyson!” I gasp. “Your mother!”
“Understands alphas,” Cat finishes.
Oh God.
“Especially a freshly mated one, right?” Bailey prompts.
“Not just that. Tyson’s father was always like that. Your Grandma Carolyn told me that so was her husband. Get ready for a lifetime of insatiable husband,” Cat says as she starts up her SUV.
I try to swallow and don’t. I almost want to ask if they have weddings here or if there’s just the whole knotting thing, but I don’t want to ask these questions in front of Tyson. I’ll ask Bailey later, maybe.
“Tyson’s paternal grandmother and grandfather were at it like bunnies until the day he died,” Cat says.
“How old was he?” I ask.
“Eighty-four.”
“Holy crap,” I say.
“Yep. Tyson, by the way, how would you feel about a breakfast tomorrow with me and your grandparents?”
“That sounds fine,” Tyson says.
“Good. They’ll be happy about that after having to share your attention tonight.”
I get my seatbelt on and we’re only in the car for about five minutes before we’re stopping at a riverfront castle-like home.
“Oh wow,” I say.
Gates are opening and this is where we’re stopping.
“Behind the house is the Arcana Falls themselves, come.” Bailey says.
She and Cat lead us across what looks, despite the dimness, like a beautifully manicured, lush front lawn.
We walk around back, and I see the set of waterfalls to the right of the banks. We’re not talking Niagara Falls or anything so grandiose, but the river forks behind the house and to the right there is a set of small waterfalls probably about fifty feet up. The water trickles and trails down multiple levels of rocks. It’s so pretty. There’s also a stone set of stairs winding up to a giant rock ledge on the side. It’s very pretty. It’s also lit from behind.
“I present the Arcana Falls. Behind there is a beautiful hidden cave,” Bailey says. “There’s a lot of magic here. The spot is considered sacred to our pack. Witches have even come here over time to cast important spells, though not in several years, am I right, Cat?”
“That’s right.”
“Wow. It’s so beautiful,” I say.
“Tyson was most likely conceived back there,” Cat whispers. “It’s got a magical level of romantic ambience.”
I giggle. I bet it does.
“And I think it’s particularly a good spot for making shifter babies with extreme alpha tendencies,” she adds.
It’s dark out, but I can see the whites of his teeth as he smiles big at his mother.
“Hint, hint,” she says, elbowing me gently with a huge smile on her face.
I laugh nervously.
“Come back and see it again during the day,” Cat suggests. “See how special it is during the daylight.”
“Maybe me and Ivy will go first. You can all visit some other time,” Tyson says, cheekily, with laughter in his voice.
“Tyson!” I gasp.
Cat laughs heartily. Bailey is smiling.
We head toward the large house, featuring turrets at either side. We head to a set of French doors under a pergola-covered patio that Cat opens.
She turns a lamp on. Wow. We’re in a beautiful space. It’s big, open, and furnished with antiques. It smells like citrus furniture polish. My guess is that someone was here today cleaning, hoping we’d visit.
The main floor has a vast kitchen with a perfect blend of old country and modern touches. It’s been upgraded in recent years, for certain, but has been done in a way that blends the old and new. There’s a greenhouse attached at the side of the kitchen.
“A beautiful place to grow vegetables,” Cat says. “Best tomatoes and peppers I’ve ever t
asted have come from this kitchen. Herbs, too.”
Tyson is looking at me. Intently.
I know what he’s thinking. That this is perfect for me.
She shows us a massive dining room with a dining suite that seats eighteen. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a formal dining suite this large. Through the library is a sitting room that leads to an office and library combination filled to the brim with old books.
The basement is the most alpha man-cave space I’ve ever seen complete with billiards tables and a bar that’s big enough for a restaurant.
Upstairs are six bedrooms, including the master suite, which is not only a beautiful space with a massive spa-like bathroom, but this place is clearly a family-oriented home. The master has an attached nursery.
The whole place probably hasn’t had a thing changed in thirty years other than that kitchen. Everything is classic rich antiques with neutral colors and warm tones, and the place is clean and tidy. Not a speck of dust. It’s as if it has been preserved or has been recently cleaned to perfection in anticipation of Ty’s arrival.
We’re standing in the nursery and Tyson’s got his eyes on a rocking chair.
Cat caresses the chair and there’s a weighty silence.
“Your cradle is in the attic,” she says softly. “I couldn’t look at it day after day.”
“He died in this room, didn’t he?” Tyson says.
Cat’s back goes straight. “He did. You feel it?”
“I do,” Tyson says.
I do, too, oddly. But I say nothing.
I watch Ty wrap his arm around her and kiss the top of her head.
The silence in the room is loaded with pain. I want to give them privacy, so my eyes move to Bailey at the same time as her gaze moves to me. We’re of the same mind.
“Come see.” She grabs my hand and we leave Ty and his mother alone.
She shows me that attached to two other large bedrooms is what I’d imagine as an intended playroom. It’s lined with bookshelves. They’re empty. There are small rocking chairs big enough for children on either side. There’s also a big toy chest, though it’s also empty.
“Tyson loves books,” I whisper, feeling a chill run up my back.
“He should’ve read them here,” she says softly. “With brothers and sisters that he never got to have. So sad. But it doesn’t have to keep being sad. You and Tyson could fill this place with kids. Fill this room with toys and books. Cat can sit in that rocker in the nursery and hold a grandchild in each arm and build new memories instead of feeling sad about the things that were taken from her.”
I swallow down a lump.
Tyson and his mother come in then and they both have expressions that tell me they had words about the past.
I wrap my arm around his waist and snuggle in. I get a kiss dropped on my head and a squeeze from him.
“Well, it’s yours if you want it,” Cat says, her eyes bright with moisture. “No rush. You just tell me when you’re ready. And it won’t bother me a bit if you redecorate. If you want the furnishings, they’re yours. If you don’t, there are a few things I’d like and a few things I know my sister and Riley or his siblings might like.”
Tyson says nothing but his eyes are on me.
I smile, noncommittally.
“Are we going back to the party?” I ask.
“What do you want to do?” he replies, fingertips caressing my face along the hairline.
“It could be fun to go back for a bit. Have a dance or two.”
He smiles. “Okay, baby.”
I smile.
“I had the bedsheets changed and put some basics in the fridge for a breakfast for the morning,” Cat says. “But if we can eat here with your grandparents, I’ll bring more food over and cook for everyone. There are extra toothbrushes and other toiletries in the cabinets in the master bathroom, too. ”
“That’s very thoughtful,” I say.
“Sounds good,” Tyson says softly. “You can make more of that coffee cake?”
“I absolutely can.”
“He ate three quarters of it!” I tell her. “It was delicious.”
“I’m happy to make one whenever you like,” Cat says, beaming with joy. “Bailey? Let’s meet them in the car in case they want to look at anything else alone.”
“Right,” Bailey says.
They slip out.
Tyson puts his other arm around me and pulls me to his chest.
“This would’ve been where you read your books. Maybe with some brothers and sisters,” I say and then I burst into tears and bury my face in his shirt.
His arms come around me tight. “Don’t cry, my Ivy.” His voice has softness in it.
I look up at him.
“If your uncle wasn’t dead, I’d maybe kill him myself.”
He smiles and puts his lips to my forehead. “You’d probably have to get in line.”
“All the stuff that you were robbed of. These people are awesome, Ty.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, his eyes roving my face.
“If they know any witches, maybe we should ask them to bring him back over and over so we can take turns killing him in the most torturous way possible.”
He scoffs while using his thumbs to dash the tears away from my cheeks. “It’s crossed my mind. He spoke of witches often. I know he knew some. He took me with him when he went to see an old witch sometimes. I waited outside always. I don’t know what he talked to her about.”
“Hm.”
“Her eyes were very strange on me. Like she knew me.” He shivers. “Anyway, you sure you feel like going back to this party?” he asks.
“Yeah. If you do. It’d be nice.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
We step outside and it’s dark now, and the moon is up high. And it’s pinkish red.
I’m almost about to tell him about me having to go tomorrow, feeling like it might be a good time to bring it up, but I chicken out.
I’ll talk to him about it when we get back.
37
Tyson
It’s been an enlightening evening in some ways and a baffling one in others.
I didn’t think about having other family before, beyond Cornelius. I had no idea my uncle Atticus existed before Bailey told me about him and no clue I would feel an immediate connection with him. He looks like Cornelius, but stronger. Bigger. And his eyes are different. It’s only now I realize how manic Cornelius’s eyes were. And the kindness in Atticus’s eyes when our eyes met had an immediate effect.
Having all of these people around me with my Ivy here too instantly brought me a feeling of peace and completeness that I’ve never had before.
Until Mason Quinn.
The sensations I got from him immediately put me on alert. I did not fucking like what I felt from him as he approached my woman. It’s as if his mind is wrong. His thoughts about her are wrong. The way his eyes touch her is fucking wrong.
Riley asked me to let it go and told me he’d talk to me later to explain. I need to have that conversation with him now, because my immediate instinct tells me that Mason wants Ivy. My Ivy.
Just the barest notion of anyone wanting her makes me want to let the angry red haze wash over me so that I can erase them. Rip them to shreds. This wasn’t a bare notion. At all.
“Talk to me now,” I ordered.
Riley asked me to trust him. Looked into my eyes when he did, and I read truth. He told me he’d talk to me later and said that something wasn’t right with Mason, they knew this for a few days and based on that reaction and what all the alphas in the pack felt from him, he was going to be seen to by healers and elders to figure out what was going on with his mind. That’s all he told me. I need to know more.
The reason I have had the life I’ve had is because nobody stopped the man whose mind was wrong in time to prevent him from killing my father, from hurting my mother, from ripping me from my life.
Ivy giggles at something one of the women has said and my focus m
oves to her. Seeing my woman happy in this space, interacting with these people who are my people, who feel like they’re my people? I like it. Where I thought just days ago that I’d like nothing more than to have her all to myself and that I’d be content to live with only her and any children we made alone… now I feel vastly different. I feel like I want to care for all of them and give everything to them, and especially give them to her, so that she has a community around her.
Catrina Savage, Lucy Savage, Riley, the grandparents, Riley’s father Atticus Savage – these people feel like they’re mine, too, even more than the pack is mine.
They. Feel. Like. Mine.
This feels right.
And that house? The waterfall? The smell in the air around there? It also feels right.
Is everything in my life about to come together? Do I have a pack, a family, a mate? Am I where I’ll belong? With purpose?
I look at her as we head inside the barn to rejoin the party and she’s smiling and chatting happily with Bailey Blackwood, looking completely at ease.
We step across the threshold and drinks are put into hers and Bailey’s hands by a younger woman who looks me over from head to toe and then lazily sizes me back up from toe to head again.
I recognize her type. The same as those female predators at the bar I used to go to. They were on the hunt. They wanted their drinks bought. They wanted men to lust after them. They wanted cock. She’s a shifter woman, full-blooded shifter, and she was introduced to me earlier as Sherry Creed.
I smell arousal on her as she looks at me. Another girl steps up and smiles. Leona. She wasn’t in the receiving line, but she was at the clinic the day Ivy was bitten by the snake.
I nod at Leona and then my eyes meet Sherry’s. I look through her, showing her that I’m not interested.
Another woman, similarly aged, and dressed demurely and giving off a shy aura catches up to them. Audrey King. Half-shifter.
Ivy kisses me and tells me to go have some ‘alpha talk’ as she trots with her drink along behind those girls.
I want to warn her about Sherry’s. I don’t get the chance. Riley is coming toward me.
“Bailey,” I call out.
Bailey spins around and comes back.
“One sec, Riley; I don’t like that,” I tell him.
“Sherry is an unmated alpha female,” Riley tells me, clearly seeing what I saw. “She knows you’re mated. She won’t likely be dumb enough to make a play. If she does, we’ll deal with her. Don’t worry. Look. Aunt Cat’s heading in that direction to warn her. She just likes what she sees when she sees you. Don’t stress about it.”
