I drained the first mug, poured a second, and padded back to the bedroom. Aspen had turned over, hugging my pillow, facehidden except for her nose and that beautiful mouth. She looked so peaceful I almost felt bad about waking her. Almost.
I leaned down and brushed her cheek. “Sunshine. Time to rise and shine.”
She mumbled, “Five more minutes,” then surfaced with a long, catlike stretch that somehow made her even cuter. She squinted up at me, hair wild, eyes bright and sly. “What time is it?”
“Quarter past four,” I said. “Busy day ahead.”
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Oscar blinked awake and stood, wearing a Victorian nightgown, paws perched on her thigh.
“Miss,” he said, “I believe today is the day you make history.”
Aspen snorted. “I’m just the cake lady. Nobody remembers the baker.”
“On the contrary,” Oscar replied, “the baker controls the outcome of all major celebrations. I have read six books on the subject.”
“Trust the rodent,” I said. “He’s the best-read mammal in the house.”
I kissed Aspen good morning, and she pulled me down for a second one—sloppy, sleepy, and perfect. “Don’t get into any trouble today,” she said into my chest.
“I’ll do my best. You stay close to Oscar. If you leave the bakery for any reason, you take a wolf with you. Non-negotiable.”
She made a mock salute. “Aye, aye, sir.”
Oscar nodded, solemn. “We shall be inseparable, sir.”
We dressed quick, Aspen pulling her hair into a messy ponytail and slipping into a lemon-yellow sundress that made her look like the first day of spring, even though it was the third week of February. I stuck to jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt;we’d come back to dress later. The ceremony would run the gamut of attire.
Aspen’s bakery was already lit with the overnight lights when we got there. She unlocked the door; Oscar darted ahead to do a security sweep, and I walked her in to help her with the tables and chairs.
“I’ll come pick you up at 2:00,” I said, giving her a kiss at the door. Lock up now. “You need anything, you call.”
She smiled, soft and sure. “Go do your thing, Big Papa. I’ll be ready when you get back. Might even save you a lemon scone.”
I winked. “That’s what keeps me going.”
I left her to it, with Oscar standing guard at the back door, and headed for the compound. The sun hadn’t yet tried to break the horizon. The roads were empty, and I let my mind drift as I drove. Public speaking never got easier, even after years of giving sermons to hard-bitten bikers and soldiers. I’d written my speech six different ways, none of them good enough for Bronc and Juliet. So I ran the words again in my head, chasing the perfect balance between “sacred” and “don’t make the vampires puke.”
At the compound, the place was a controlled frenzy. Pearl’s crew was already cooking; you could smell bacon and cinnamon from the parking lot. The pack officers were gathered outside the big house, smoking and sipping from thermoses. Bronc stood at the center, tall and calm, arms folded across his chest like he was born for this. Juliet was beside him, glowing brighter than the sun. You could tell she’d gone all-in on “Luna” mode: elegant green dress, blonde hair perfectly styled, dark brown eyes shining, smile ready for everyone who came within ten feet.
I parked and went to join the crew. Arsenal was first to spot me, giving a tight nod before returning to his scan of the perimeter.
“Hey Papa,” he said. “Things are looking good. All clear on the perimeter.”
“Good. What about the guests?”
“Wrecker and Parker are on comms. They’ll call out when anyone approaches the gate.”
I looked to Bronc, who broke off his huddle with Gunner and came over.
“Papa,” he said, voice low and steady. “You ready?”
“Getting there,” I replied. “Guess we’re gonna run with the big dogs tonight?”
He grinned, a rare flash of mischief. “Why not? Let ‘em see how a real pack does it.”
Juliet joined us, her hand sliding into Bronc’s. “You look nervous,” she said, tilting her head at me.
“I always look nervous when I’m about to officiate a mating ceremony for the Alpha,” I said. “Plus, there’s the whole ‘potential for supernatural war’ thing.”
