“Thanks, Ezra.”
Next Malachi stepped close, clasped Aaron’s arm and pulled him in, embracing him with the other arm around his shoulders. “What a father you’ll be, Aaron.”
Aaron grinned. “We’ll find out in about nine months.”
“How is Ember?”
“Well, it’s…um, a surprise. Sooner than we figured on. I know it’ll help for Lucy and Nicole and Ann to tell her what the pregnancy’s like and all that. But she says she already knew she wanted to have my pups, and she’ll trust fate’s timing about it.”
Dad and Arlo, Cassius and Patrick joined them, clearly having waited for the moment Aaron broached the topic. Nathan and Corbin came too, dragging Quinn along, all three of them smelling slightly bemused.
“What’s going on?” Quinn said. “Is this about Aunt Em smelling weird?”
The wolves rumbled their laughter. Trevor barked, of course.
“Listen, pup,” Aaron said. “You’ve got to let her tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“About the baby.”
“The…what?” Quinn rocked back on his heels, forward onto his toes, and back again. “You’re not kidding?”
“Next July. Our own pup.” Aaron’s eyes shone, and his scent thickened with savory pride.
“Whoa.”
“Rhett should’ve come over here,” Jeremy said, glaring toward the lawn darts game, where Rhett currently played alone. “That wolf hasn’t got an ounce of politeness in his body.”
“Give him a break,” Aaron said. “He congratulated me during lunch, out of Ember’s hearing.”
“Oh, so he cheated tradition, like that’s any better.”
“Jeremy, let it go.”
Congratulations made a full round again; then the younger and older wolves ambled off again, all except for Arlo. “A good day,” Cassius summarized for all of them, for Ezra’s deepest heart. He smiled at Ezra. “Your mate’s quest for information about pack life is about to be answered.”
Ezra scrubbed a palm over his hair. “Including questions she hasn’t asked yet.” But now for his own question. “Listen, I need to ask y’all something important.”
“Ask away,” Jeremy said.
“It’s about Willow’s folks. They, um, they really hate our kind. I’ve got my work cut out for me. I need ideas.”
He got blank looks from Trevor and Cassius, encouraging nods from Jeremy and Aaron, cautious frowns from Malachi and Arlo.
“When you sayhatethough,” Jeremy said, “you mean…fear? Maybe you just need to show up, you know? Show yourself safe.”
“That’s all I can think, too,” Aaron said. “Show up to their family functions and wait them out. Might take patience.”
“So, Jeremy, Aaron,” Trevor said, “does your advice change at all if Fitzgerald shoved Ezra into a car and beat on him?”
“Wait—what?” Jeremy growled.
Ezra let out a growl of his own. “Trev.”
“Nope, not butting out of this one, bro. You can’t ask for advice based on half the story.” Trevor surged to his feet and addressed the whole circle of wolves. “This lowlife didn’t just kick his own daughter out of the house. He also pinned Ezra against Willow’s car, punched his ribs and stomach multiple times, called my future nieces and nephews filthy hybrids, and called my brother a dirty werewolf.”
All the wolves were silent, their scents harsh with shock—except Malachi, whose snarl seemed ripped from his chest. His intense musky essence held instant fury and the barest flavor of pain. At the alpha’s raw reaction, each wolf bowed his head for a moment in reflexive deference. Then Malachi sighed, and the rest of them relaxed.
