“Oh, baby.” She caressed the edge of his face.
He repeated the syllables that had stunned us both.
She shook her head, then pointed to herself and said, “Meg.”
He watched her mouth shape the word, a furrow creasing his little brow.
I pointed to myself and decomposed my name in two separate syllables, “Nih-kee.”
His confusion deepened, but then his attention snagged on my lanterns again, and he tugged on my braid. Back we went.
I spent the next half hour making the lights flicker while teaching Storm the wordstar. He studied my lips but wouldn’t even try to copy me. However, when I asked him to point to the stars, he extended his arm toward them.
“Smarty-pants.” I kissed his temple before handing him over to Mom, who was taking him back to the house because Liam had to work late.
Hopefully, his work had to do with finding Bea and the bereft coroner a cure.
After she left, Adalyn called to find out if I wanted to grab dinner at Pondside. Having developed cabin fever from my two-day work retreat, I readily agreed. After dabbing concealer on my faded bruise and rolling mascara over my lashes, I swapped my oversized sweatshirt for an undersized T-shirt, and my sweatpants for skinny jeans.
I grabbed my bag, tossing in stuff I probably wouldn’t need or already had two of, and stepped into the wintry chill. My blood thrummed from the expanding moon. I lifted my face toward it and basked in its milky glow. Two more days, and I’d let my wild envelop and overwhelm my human.
A release like none other.
Actually, I could think of one other release that came close to the feeling of utter bliss that was my wolf form, but thinking about it led to ruminating on Liam, which inevitably strained my mood.
I shoved him out of my head as I padded up to the mess hall, inhaling the woody, wintry scent padding the air, a by-product of the slow puff of almost every chimney on the compound.
Adalyn sat at the bar, her head bent in an apparently titillating conversation with Sasha, who was pouring her a glass of wine.
“What did I miss?” I set my bag down at my feet and shrugged out of my coat.
“Sasha was telling me about the three o’clock bingo tournament. Apparently it got real rowdy and competitive. Grams almost had a throwdown with May’s granddaddy. Threatened to dye what’s left of his hair green when he came for his monthly appointment.”
I snickered. “She’d probably do it.”
“Oh, you bet she will.”
“Wait, didn’t she have the hots for the old man?”
“That was last summer. Remember her philosophy: a man for every season keeps the heart a beatin’.”
“Your grandmother’s one heck of a lady,” Sasha said, pouring us some water.
With a life like hers, riddled with untimely deaths—first her mate’s, then her daughter’s and son-in-law’s—she had to have a strong disposition or her spark would’ve also faded too soon. I’d asked her once how she did it . . . kept on living, kept on smiling. She’d looked over at Adalyn and Gracey and said, “By taking one breath at a time.”
“What can I get you, Nikki?”
“Red wine.”
After placing a stemmed glass filled to the brim in front of me, Sasha disappeared into the kitchen.
Blackberry, cloves, and woodchips curled from the burgundy liquid, making me inhale deeper. “I’m so glad you called. I needed a break from my superhero painting. I spentwaytoo long drawing details on his leather bodysuit.”
“Can’t wait to see the finished piece.”
My wine rippled as I swirled it. Before showing her or anyone else the final version, I had to rework the face, which resembled a certain Alpha’s. And I wasn’t talking about Cassandra or Alaric.
“Speaking of finished pieces, did you and Nash decide on your tattoos?”
