She fits here.
She fits with us.
21
IMANI
The afternoon passes in a blur of warmth and laughter and the kind of belonging I’ve only ever dreamed about.
Mother Lenora has me stationed at her kitchen counter, rolling out dough for brown sugar pecan rolls while she bustles around checking on three different pots. Tolin tried to help earlier but she shooed him out after he nearly knocked over a pan of rising bread.
“He was always clumsy in the kitchen,” she says, catching me smiling at the memory. “Even as a cub. Ronan was the same way. The two of them together were a disaster.”
“I can imagine.”
“No, you really can’t.” She wipes her hands on her apron and leans against the counter beside me. “Those two were always at each other’s throats. Competing over everything. Who could climb the highest tree. Who could catch the biggest fish. Who could shift the fastest.”
“Who usually won?”
“Depended on the day. Ronan is older, bigger, butTolin...” She shakes her head with a fond smile. “That boy has always had an alpha spirit. Even when he was small, he wanted to lead. Wanted to be in charge. He’d boss around cubs twice his size and somehow they’d listen.”
I glance toward the window where I can see Tolin outside, helping some clan members set up for the ceremony. He’s carrying a log that would take three normal men to lift, his breath fogging in the cold air.
“He wanted to be Alpha,” I say quietly.
“More than anything.” Mother Lenora’s voice softens. “From the time he could walk, that’s all he talked about. He’d tell anyone who listened that he was going to lead the Ironwood Clan one day. That he was going to be the best Alpha we’d ever had.”
“But Ronan is the firstborn.”
“Yes. And in our clan, the firstborn son inherits the Alpha position unless someone challenges and wins.” She sighs. “I always knew Tolin’s place was as Beta. He has the strength for it, the loyalty, the protective instincts. But he couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t accept being second when he’d spent his whole life believing he was meant to be first.”
“So he challenged Ronan.”
“So he challenged Ronan.” She’s quiet for a moment. “It nearly destroyed both of them. Ronan didn’t want to fight his brother. But when an Alpha is challenged, he has no choice. He has to answer or lose everything.”
“And Tolin lost.”
“Tolin lost. And instead of accepting the Beta position, accepting that he could still serve the clan, still be part of the family, he walked away.” Her eyes are distant, lost in memory. “Five years. Five years of watching my son deliver wood like a stranger instead of walking through my front door. Five years of waiting for him to come home.”
I set down the rolling pin and turn to face her fully. “He’s stubborn.”
“He’s proud. Too proud for his own good.” She looks at me then, really looks, and her expression shifts to something warm and grateful. “But you’ve changed him. I can see it. He’s softer now. More open. You’ve given him something to care about besides his wounded pride.”
“I just wanted him to stop being an asshole.”
She laughs, the sound bright and surprised. “Well, you’ve certainly accomplished that.”
We don’t talk much as we work. The kitchen smells like baking brown sugar pecan rolls and roasting meat. Outside, clan members are preparing for the ceremony. They’re hanging strings of lights between trees, decorating a massive evergreen with carved wooden ornaments. Children throw snowballs while their parents yell half-hearted warnings.
It’s everything I never had.
“Imani.”
I look up to find Mother Lenora watching me with a knowing expression.
“Tell me about your family,” she says gently.
The question lands harder than it should. I focus on the dough, pressing it flat, avoiding her eyes.
