Right.Easy.
Chapter Three
Sylvik
“I’m telling you,thereareno wedding traditions!” Brakor growled, crossing his ankles on top of my coffee table. “You just announce you’re Mated in front of the clan, and then we have a big party.”
I refrained from jotting down this unhelpful bit of advice, especially since his brother was shaking his head.
“Each couple was different. Our uncle found that pretty human—remember? She had long red hair and liked flowers.” Korrad planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward earnestly. “So he collected a bunch of bulbs for her to plant, and made an arch from willow branches and wove flowers through it.”
“I can’t believe you remember that,” grumbled his brother.
I wrote downWillow arch with flowerson my tablet because it sounded good to me. Maybe there were winter-blooming flowers we could tie into the hunter-green-and-white-and-silver color scheme? I made another note to ask Brooke.
At the unexpected meeting at the Diner the other day, I was impressed by the scope of her experience and vision. Maybe she hadn’t organized things the way I would have—I refrained from gushing about how helpful a simple spreadsheet could be—but it was clear she knew what she was doing.
The longer we talked about her plans for the wedding, the more confident she became, and that made me smile. When she confessed that her sister had just dumped most of the decisions on her lap and given her the go-ahead to make creative choices on her behalf, I’d reached over and placed two fingers on the back of her hand.
“Then it will be a beautiful wedding, Brooke,” I’d said, and she’d blushed happily.
I could claim that had been my intention, but really it was just because myKteerhad demanded I touch her again. I’d managed to sit across from her all that time, her scent teasing my tongue, and I’d been desperate to touch her.
From the way she’d held her breath, and from the tantalizing scent of her arousal I’d occasionally been able to catch…Brooke hadn’t minded my presumption.
“Sylvik?”
Garrak’s prompt caused me to shake my head, pushing the memories aside and focusing on this impromptumeeting, here in my living room. I plastered an attentive look on my face and turned to our leader, the male who I thought of as an older brother, even if we weren’t exactly related by blood.
He was indulgently smirking at me from where he leaned against the archway to the kitchen. My house was the first of the batch Abydos had planned for us and his construction company—which Brakor and Korrad now worked for—was building, and featured a modern, open floor plan. Since Garrak had been rummaging in the kitchen—likely stealing my deli meats—a moment ago, I had to assume he’d been listening in.
So I pretended that I’d been taking notes on our friends’ bickering, and not daydreaming of tasting Brooke. “Yes?”
Garrak’s smirk deepened, and I suspected he wasn’t fooled. “I don’t remember any wedding ceremonies, but I’ll call some guys from back home.”Back homewould be Alaska. “If you want.”
I took the time to consider. “Abydos’s clan is from the Rockies, so Korrad’s memories would be more helpful.”
My almost-brother nodded, then lifted his hand to his mouth—hehadraided my meat drawer!—to take a bite. “Then stick with plants,” he said around the meat. “You know that shit is sacred to us, and Abydos in particular keeps a special place for nature.”
I scowled at how brazenly he was munching on my summer sausage. “I told Brooke that already, but I think we could definitely lean into it, especially with the color scheme she’s planning.”
Garrak opened his mouth, but a new voice interrupted him. “Uncle Sylvik, I finished.”
Grateful for the distraction, I bounced up from my seat and turned to face my youngest guest. Jay was Korrad’s eleven-year-old son, and he held his offering—a chain made from strips of white printer paper—in both hands.
“That’s wonderful, Jay,” I told him gratefully, nodding toward the small tree I’d potted and sat on the low credenza before the front window. “Will you help me hang it up?”
The boy was normally quiet—he didn’t get that from his father—so now he just nodded once and followed me toward the tree. “Where’d you learn how to do this?” I asked gently, taking one end of the chain.
“I saw it online.” He was intent on positioning the rest of the chainjust so, and I didn’t interfere. “We had a tree at school last year, but we didn’t make a paper chain for it.” Dark eyes flicked toward me for just a moment as his voice dropped. “Do you think they decorate trees at Eastshore Elementary?”
I glanced at Korrad, who didn’t speak, but watched his son with quiet pride. I suppose I was as close to an expert on Eastshore Isle as we’d get in this group.
“Um…I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised. You’ve seen all the decorations up all over town, right?” The boy nodded without speaking, intent on his task. “And after everything Sakkara has said about how they celebrate here, I’ll bet they do. His Mate is a teacher at your new school. Are you excited to begin there in the new year?”
From the way Jay frowned slightly—although perhaps it was in concentration as he placed the last of the chain—I wondered if maybe he wasn’t. Korrad and his brother had visited Eastshore at Thanksgiving—Kap’paral—and decided then to move, although they’d waited until the end of the semester to pull Jay from school.
I placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It isn’t easy to move to a new place. You’re very brave.”
