Page 23 of Auditing the Alpha

Klaus, in his silver-gray wolf form, looked up at me before joining the run, his amber eyes conveying a question he wouldn’t voice:Have you decided?

I shook my head slightly, not yet ready to answer.

As the pack disappeared into the woods, I contemplated the choice before me. The claiming bite would bind me to Klaus permanently—not just a relationship, but a supernatural connection that would alter the fundamental nature of my existence.

Am I ready for that?I wondered, listening to the distant howls.To be not just with the pack, but of the pack?

By the time the wolves began returning from their run, I had my answer.

Klaus approached the platform in wolf form, then shifted back to human at the base of the ladder, quickly pulling on his jeans. He climbed up to join me, his expression carefully neutral.

“Good run?” I asked.

He nodded, settling beside me on the bench. “Always is.” He didn’t ask the question burning between us, giving me space to find my own words.

I took his hand, large and warm in mine. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked. About the bond.”

“And?” His voice was carefully controlled, but I could feel the tension in his body.

“And I think… not yet.” I squeezed his hand as disappointment flashed across his face. “Not because I don’t want it, Klaus. I do. But because I want to be absolutely certain when it happens.”

He nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“But,” I continued, “I was thinking maybe we could take a step in that direction.”

His eyes met mine, hope kindling. “What kind of step?”

I smiled, suddenly nervous but certain. “A human step. One with paperwork.” I took a deep breath. “Will you marry me, Klaus? Not werewolf-marry me—at least not yet—but regular, human marriage?”

For a moment, he simply stared at me, shock evident in his expression. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, transforming it with joy.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Of course yes.”

Around us, wolves began to howl—whether responding to our emotions or simply celebrating the moon, I couldn’t tell. But as Klaus pulled me into his arms, kissing me with all the passion and tenderness I’d come to expect from him, it felt like the entire forest was celebrating with us.

* * *

Our wedding three months later was a blend of human tradition and pack custom—held outdoors despite the lingering winter chill, attended by the entire pack and most of the town. Martha, who turned out to be ordained (“For emergencies and werewolf weddings,” she explained cryptically), performed the ceremony.

Standing before Klaus, who looked devastating in a proper suit, reciting vows that acknowledged both the conventional and supernatural aspects of our union, I marveled at how completely my life had transformed in the span of a few months.

From city-dwelling auditor to small-town accountant. From solitary professional to pack-adjacent mate. From cynical urbanite to… well, still fairly cynical, but happier than I’d ever been.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband,” Martha declared. “You may kiss your mate.”

Klaus pulled me into his arms, kissing me with a passion that elicited wolf whistles (literally, from some of the younger pack members) and applause from the gathered guests.

“Happy?” he murmured against my lips.

“Ecstatic,” I confirmed. “Though still cold.”

He laughed, the sound I’d grown to love more than any other. “I’ll keep you warm. For the rest of our lives.”

“Promise?” I asked, only half-joking.

Klaus’s eyes—those beautiful amber eyes that had captivated me from the first—held mine with absolute certainty. “With everything I am, Jordan. With everything I am.”

And as the pack howled their approval, snow beginning to fall gently around us like nature’s own blessing, I knew I’d found where I belonged—in the arms of a werewolf, in a small town I once hated, finally, completely home.