Page 73 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

“Both of them?”

“In a house fire. It was too far along after the firefighters got me out. That’s how I ended up in Fairville, I moved in with my aunt.”

Maria knit her brow, staring at the carving. “May I?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Maria cradled the necklace in her hand, the chain long enough for her to pull it closer to her eyes. She stared at it. Not as if she were appreciating a piece of art, but rather appraising it.

“It really is remarkable,” Maria said.

“Thank you,” Clarissa said as she racked her brain for a subject change. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Hmm?”

“For the baby,” Clarissa said. “What name are you thinking of?”

Maria’s eyes lit up and she tried to sit up straighter against her bulging stomach. “Well, we’re waiting to know the sex until the day of, so we have a few possibilities. Samuel and I are having a hard time agreeing on a boy’s name, but we both really like Lilly for a girl. He likes the idea of Levi for a boy, he’s a big anime nerd and there’s something about that name he’s obsessed with. I was okay with it until I learned where he got the idea from. I’m not sure how I feel about naming my kid after an anime character.”

Clarissa laughed and Maria continued going into detail about decorating the nursery. Still listening, she let her eyes wander across the picnic. They settled on Tom. He stood at a barrel-sized grill with a tall Hispanic man, deep in conversation. A crease formed between Tom’s brows, hard lines etched across his features, jaw locked, his face turning red.

Stomach dropping, she considered what could have made him that angry. What had she gotten herself into?

Nineteen

Thomas

After driving Clarissa home, he sped down the back roads, racing back home. Sam was waiting for him.

“I sent Sara and Emmanuel ahead,” Sam said, “and I sent Maria home with Tori.”

“Good.” Tom pulled off his shoes and started unbuttoning his shirt. Sam mirrored his movements. “What’s happening at the mansion, the other shifter families?”

“Atticus, Brittaney, most of them are staying the night. Menna and the foxes, along with a few others, freaked and left, saying it was irresponsible of you to invite them here when there are bears in our territory.”

A growl tore from his throat. Leaping at the tree line, heat tore through him as he phased. His limbs and body extended, growing broader and stronger, and his senses sharpened in an instant. He bounded into the woods, running as fast as his paws could take him. Sam’s wolf right behind him.

“I know, boss,” Sam thought, “but you’d a been proud of Michael. That kid jumped to your defense faster than a jackrabbit. Speaking of, Brittaney also vouched for you. Saying this was a new development and you’d invited them all on good faith, the crowd of shifters could have drawn in the bears. She went on for a while.”

Tom didn’t respond. But he made a mental note to go a bit easier on Michael from now on.

Feet and hands beating against the wet earth, mud coating his arms as the forest flew by in a blur of green. Soil, ferns, rotting leaves—the scents filling his nose were choked out by the stench of thick smoke.

Emmanuel, Sara, Nathon, and Luna stood in their path. Why weren’t they doing anything?

“Boss,” Sara thought.

Something about her posture and the tone of her thoughts made him pull up short. She was taking point in their group; the third-ranking wolf in the pack was delivering the news. The pack never stuck to formalities like this; if they were doing it now, it was bad. They were afraid of his reaction.

Though his nerves were screaming for him to pace, he forced himself to sit. Sam’s brilliant black wolf sat next to him. Trepidation was plain on Sara’s sandy blonde wolf as she braced herself.

“We got here as fast as we could, but the flames had already engulfed the whole house,” Sara thought. “Based on what we saw, there was more than one origin to the fire, it was quick to spread.”

Tom grew agitated. She was focusing on the flames, dancing around the most important part.

“But it wouldn’t have mattered how fast we got here,” Sara elaborated, “because they were already dead. Darel and Velma, all their kids, some others; they were strung up from the oak tree in the front yard, their abdomens slashed open.”

Standing on his back legs, Tom let out a ferocious growl, stringing profanities in his head. His overgrown hand swiped across the closest tree, his claws cut deep. The cracks of breaking wood echoed off the forest.