CHAPTER ONE
“I’ll get you for that! You’re both going down!” I was flat on my ass, in the snow, staring up at both Faron and Bran. We’d ended up in an impromptu snowball fight, and they ganged up on me. They stood there, laughing, as my ass hit the ice. Fancypants was flying around, flapping his wings to stir up the snow.
“That sounds like it might be fun,” Bran said, his purple knit beanie keeping the falling flakes off his long blond hair.
“It does at that,” Faron said.
“Oh, shut up and help me to my feet. This is a solid sheet of ice beneath the skiff of snow that fell last night.” As they helped me to stand up, I stopped laughing. “Seriously, if May or Grams tried to walk out here, they’d lose their balance. That would be bad—really bad.”
“True,” Bran said. “We should get out the shovels and deicer.” He turned to Faron. “Want to give me a hand? There’s enough ice out here for both of us.”
Faron nodded. “Good call. Okay, fun’s over. Time for work.” He glanced at me. “Why don’t you go inside? We’ll get the mail.”
I brushed the snow off my clothes. “Sounds good to me. I’ll make breakfast while you two clear the paths. Come on, Fancypants, let’s get out of the cold.”
Fancypants fluttered above my head. “I’m right on your heels,” he said. And so we left the men outside, heading back for the warmth of the living room. As we entered the house, I glanced at the clock. It was still barely nine AM.
Faron was staying in the guest room after being ousted from his Pack for being infertile, and the three of us were cautiously finding our way around each other. A lot of other shit had gone down, but we were doing our best to navigate the new normal for all three of us, and whether it worked out or it didn’t, we were taking it day by day.
I pulled out a couple of large skillets. After starting sausage links in one, I gathered eggs, bread, cheese, ham, and scallions from the fridge. I diced several thick slices of ham, minced a scallion, grated a bunch of cheese, and whisked up a dozen eggs. Heating oil and cooking spray in the skillet, I poured in the eggs, then scattered the ham, scallions, and cheese evenly over the top. As the eggs bubbled, I popped bread into the toaster, and as it came out crisp and brown, I slathered it in butter.
As the omelet poofed up, I folded it, slid it onto a platter, and then ran over to peek out the front door. “Breakfast!” I called.
Bran waved that he had heard, and I returned to the kitchen. I divided the omelet into three pieces. I cut a slice off my third and slid it onto Fancypants’s plate. Then, I carried our plates to the table, along with the plate of toast and a jar of May’s blackberry preserves.
By that time, Faron and Bran were inside, stripping off their coats. I made myself a triple-shot latte and a pot of coffee for them. After they washed their hands, we gathered at the table. Fancypants settled into his high chair, and Bran fastened the tray across the seat, and I set the dragonette’s meal in front of him.
“We cleared the walk from the driveway to the house,” Faron said, salting his eggs.
“What are you going to do today?” I asked.
Faron had been with us for several weeks now. His brother had taken over as the king of the Olympic Wolf Pack on an interim basis, but that meant that they couldn’t talk. Kyle didn’t dare let himself be seen with his brother in case someone accused them of colluding to help Faron reclaim the throne through a coup. Faron had no such designs, but Kyle had to keep his rule squeaky clean until the council chose a new king.
“I suppose it’s time I found a job,” Faron said, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t mooch off your goodwill forever.”
“You’re not a problem. Our finances are fine,” Bran said.
“What can you do? I mean, you were a king,” I said. “What would you like to do?”
Faron shrugged, biting into a sausage. “I might check down at the marina. I’m good with boats. Or maybe I’ll check out the construction companies.”
I nodded. “Have you thought about management? You managed the entire Pack. You’ve got a lot of skills.”
Faron shifted, looking uncomfortable. “And to be honest, I hated it. I like being outdoors. I like working with my hands. To be honest,” he said, setting down his fork, “I never wanted to be the king. I was thrust into the position, and I couldn’t do anything that anybody might question. Pack royalty’s not like a true monarchy, with unlimited power.”
After a moment, he frowned. “I wish Kyle wasn’t so disappointed in me. I miss talking to him. I love my brother, but he can’t talk to me now.”
“Would it be so bad?” Bran asked.
“As I said, it would look like we might be conspiring, and Kyle can’t take that chance. I gave up my own desires for the throne—to do my duty. And my brother is the same. I respect his loyalty. When you assume the mantle of authority, you can’t just throw it away.” He sighed. “If I had been fertile, I would have done everything to ensure that Lucretia and I had produced an heir. I would have honored my duty.”
Faron was like that. When he took an oath—a duty—he saw it through.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry that Kyle can’t talk to you.” I had liked Kyle until he had effectively cut me out of Faron’s life. He had his reasons, but he’d been clumsy about it and rude, and it had soured me on him.
“I know how you feel about Kyle,” Faron said, a smile crossing his face. “Don’t sweat it,” he said as I winced. “You have your reasons. Anyway, so yes, I’ll head downtown to look for any jobs that might be available.”
“I’m headed downtown, too,” I said. “I need to buy groceries and run some errands. Bran, what’s on your calendar today?”
