“Too bad.”
For all his words, he’s joking because when as I point out homes of coven members, including the abandoned Sinclair house, he grows interested and intently scans the park I later point out, the streets I used to play on.
We leave the neighbourhood and enter the busier areas as cars pass us, all jamming into parking spots. We pass the post office—a historic building—the library, town hall, and even the souvenir shop on the corner of what’s considered to be the main strip. He scans over all the Canadian-themed mementoes with his nose scrunched.
“Junk.”
A few people glance over, and I elbow him in the side. “The owners are lovely. Business is good this time of year, and the outside werewolf can’t fuck it up for them.”
He bends until breath blows across my nape, beneath the thin jacket I slipped on after retrieving more clothing from home. Now that I plan on living with Ryder full-time, I need more than just the week’s worth I packed last time.
“Now who needs to lower her voice before mortals start calling pest control? Also, not a werewolf, which you very well know.”
“Did you just insult and defend yourself in one go?”
He laughs and lets me point out all the best restaurants and shops. We pass the BeaverTails shop I once brought Harlow to on her first day in town. “Ever eat one of these?”
He scans the red sign with the funky font. “We don’t eat beaver, no.”
“While relieving to know that much, that isn’t what they sell. It’s a dessert—stretched dough deep fried and slathered in flavour.”
He simply rolls his neck to look at me. “Sugar. Have you ever seen any of us consume something not killed or grown in the forest?”
“One dessert won’t hurt you. You’ll burn the calories off simply by breathing.”
“Why would I need fake food to do that for me when you’re my dessert?” He hauls me closer and buries his head in my hair, tongue flicking at his bite mark.
“Alright, you win. But one day, you will be trying one.”
For now, I lead him a few more stores down until reaching Mom’s shop. Two customers keep her busy, but at our arrival, she grins. Ryder scans the place as we stand off to the side and wait. While he may be dressed the part of human, it’s clear from one look, he doesn’t fit in. He seems too out of place, handsshoved into his pockets, and more skittish than I knew possible, shifting on his feet every few seconds.
“It smells like you in here,” he murmurs beneath his breath.
“It is where half my time is spent.”
His eyes flash with a possessiveness that reminds me of the day I told him goodbye. “Is that something you’ll want? I won’t keep you from your coven, no matter if you’ve agreed to be with me. For all my comments about chaining you to my side, you’re not a captive. Protective instincts may need to be trained, but I trust you to keep me accountable. I won’t handle you depressed or regretting our life.”
Over the course of the month, I never considered what life would be like to return to him. Outside of helping with pack life, at some point, I will miss Mom and our ceremonies, and perhaps the occasional dinner. While I grumble about working here, perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to continue, if only for something to do.
“I’ll have to think about it, but I might. Maybe work on a part-time basis and split my time between here and the forest. If Leah wants, she could come too.” Bigifbecause Ryder is an example of how the shifters don’t enjoy mixing with mortals.
Ryder turns to study outside, narrowing his eyes at a group of guys shoving into one another beside the door. Not the best example of human behaviour. “She might like that. She doesn’t really leave camp much, because she finds it pointless. With you unable to shift, it may make her amenable to trying certain things.”
“You’d let her?”
He snorts. “There’s not much I can’t demand Leah to do—Alpha or otherwise. But I trust you.” He turns his head as the humans stride past us and out the door, Mom following to flip the sign closed. “And her. This is your family, which makes them part of my pack too.”
Oh, Goddess, I think my heart just fractured into the floorboards.
Mom gives the door her back and disrupts us before my emotions can choke up into incomprehensible sentences. “An early lunch. Let’s go to the back so we’re out of customers’ view.
Mom leads the way to the storage and office area in the back. Shelves of more stock are against a wall, and store-related things on an adjacent one. Between them is her desk and computer, which she so rarely uses, preferring simple magick to whip up much of her paperwork.
Ryder lingers by the door, utterly out of place while Mom settles against the desk with her arms folded. I hop on a low stack of boxes. “Well,” she starts, glancing between us, but then settles on the bag strapped to my back. “You’ll be staying with him, I assume.”
“Highridge is still my home. I don’t want to be kicked out.”
Her brows draw together. “You’d think I’d do that? Despite everything, you’re still my daughter, Carina. You’re part of this coven until your death. Falling in love doesn’t change that. I told you that weeks ago.”
