But the person whose opinion mattered most stood back, hands tucked behind his back, just watching. Papa. He wore the smile of a man who’d never in his life doubted me, but who was still proud every time I proved him right. Every time someone praised the cake, his chest lifted a little more, like he was collecting the compliments to keep them safe for me later.
The moon rose higher, and the field filled with laughter and noise. Kids ran between tables, daring each other to get close to the angel king, only to chicken out at the last moment. Pearl moved through the crowd like a benevolent tornado, checking every table, refilling drinks, and sharing childhood stories.
Papa brought me a plate with a brisket sandwich. “Thought this would be easiest to eat.” He had a spot of barbecue sauce on his tie.
I took a bite and savored the delicious flavor on my tongue.
Mouth full, I told him how much I loved it and appreciated it.
“Your service was beautiful,” I told him with a swallow of water he offered me. “You captured the essence of what mates are and the importance of community as well. I loved it.” I followed up with a kiss.
I loved how happy he looked. It was like everything had finally come together for him. Nobody deserved it more.
When the meal was over and the plates were mostly clean, Pearl stood up on a chair and called out, “Y’all clear out some space now. It’s time for the first dance!” Her voice carried all the way to the back row, where a few of the more bashful shifters had tried to hide out.
The chairs vanished, replaced by a rectangle of open grass under the lights. Menace and Savannah led the way, gliding onto the makeshift floor like they’d been born to it. Juliet and Bronc followed, and despite his size, Bronc moved with the ease of a ballroom champion, spinning Juliet until her hair fanned out in a gold halo. Other couples joined: Gunner grabbed an unsuspecting young lady, Arsenal with Maddie, even Parker and Wrecker, who had a “let’s see how many toes I can step on before she kills me” dynamic that made everyone around them grin.
I lingered at the edge, nervous energy crackling through me. I hadn’t danced since the disastrous night at the County Line, and that had ended with a drunken FaceTime call to Papa, an unwanted grope by a stranger, and a promise never to make a fool of myself in public again. But then Papa appeared beside me, offering his hand, his eyes soft.
“Would you do me the honor?” he asked.
I nearly choked on my own heartbeat. “I’ll step all over you.”
He smiled, the lines around his mouth deepening. “It’s worth the risk, Sunshine.”
I let him lead me out to the floor, the smell of grass and sugar and grill smoke thick in the air. He set his hand on my waist, gentle but steady, and I followed his steps, focusing on therhythm of his body instead of the blur of people around us. The music was old country, the kind you hear in a honky-tonk: a slow waltz.
My fingers dug into Papa’s shoulder when the music shifted. Archon stood suddenly beside us like carved moonlight, trailing frost-kissed air where no breath should fog. “Might I steal your mate for a turn, Jonas?” His voice resonated through my bones.
Papa’s arm stiffened around my waist. The clearing’s murmurs died mid-sentence. For three heartbeats, though I know of Papa’s great respect for the man, he wouldn’t just give me to him. His hand fell from my back, warm imprint lingering through the dress. “Her choice,” he rumbled, but the wolf in his eyes glowed amber.
Archon’s palm hovered above my hip, never touching. “Thank you, son. She’ll be fine,” he murmured as violins swelled from somewhere unseen. My feet left the ground. Not flying—floating, grass brushing satin slippers I’d never owned.
“You have starlight in your eyes little one. And your cake’s flavor was inspired.” His gaze mapped constellations across my face. “Did you weave magic into your buttercream?”
Cold spread through my ribs. “Sir, you could put all of my magical ability into a thimble, I’m afraid.”
“Hmmm. You doubt your magic?” His wings—when had they appeared? They shimmered at the edge of my vision. “Are you not a daughter of Georgia?”
I looked into his golden eyes.
The truth tumbled out like recipe ingredients measured twice.
“I am, but my mother died, and I’ve only just discovered my magic.”
Archon’s thumb brushed my jawline. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother. But know this, children often inherit unexpected gifts.” Around us, dancers moved through syrup-thick air. “Listen, little cherub; there is light at your fingertips. You’ll know when to use it.”
My mind was racing. What was he saying? He knew I was from Georgia? Inheritance? I felt his arms hug me a little closer, and I was suddenly filled with an all-encompassing feeling of love. Not romantic love, but familial love. Why?
The music faded. Archon’s wings dissolved into frost. “Your Alpha comes.”
“Wait!” I grabbed empty air. His citrus-snow scent lingered, but the angel king had become starlight refracted through tears.
Papa’s warmth hit my back. “You okay, Sunshine?” His nose brushed my hair, scenting for distress.
“I…” The confession about Archon and family died on my tongue. I thought perhaps he could have been my father. But if he had been, he’d have chosen abandonment. If that were the case, I’d rather not know. I pressed closer. “Can we dance again? Properly grounded this time?”
His low laugh vibrated through me. “Anything for you.”
