“You know what I mean,” she whispered. As if the room full of shifters with super-powered hearing couldn’t hear her. “I want to be marriedforreal.”
“I know what you mean, and they do to,” I stage-whisperedback.
“Okay, I’m out.” Marc plucked his glass from the table and drained it in one gulp. Then he kissed Faythe on his way out of the room. “You let me know how that turns out. I’m going to check on theboys.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said, shooting a meaningful look at my brother. “Titus, you’re on chaperone duty. I have to get us packed fortomorrow.”
“We should pack too,” Kaci said as her hand curled around mine. “If we’re actually going to show up for yourtrial.”
“We are.” I was ready to get it over with. To accept whatever non-lethal punishment they handed out, so I could get on with my life. With mymarriage.
But Titus seemed to read my thoughts in my expression. “I’ll help you pack,” he said. “And I better not find any ofyourlaundry inherhamper.”
Twenty-One
Kaci
The Montana wilderness was gorgeous.I hadn’t really noticed that during my first visit. Of course, back then I’d been stuck in cat form and literally starving. Which meant that Justus’s trial had at least two advantages over Faythe’s trial. For me,anyway.
For Justus, not somuch.
The wooden porch steps creaked beneath me as I sat and stared out at the woods. The cabin at my back was the same one I’d stayed in with Faythe and her family after they’d found me in the woods. It was the same one they’d been staying in when Greg was murdered. I wasn’t with them on that trip, but it was hard not to imagine it as I stared out over the grounds where he’d beenshot.
But this trip was aboutJustus.
Aboutjustice.
About moving past his trial so we could get on with the rest of ourlives.
I hadn’t expected to be nervous. The votes were on our side. No matter what happened, Justus would live, and eventually I’d be able to convince everyone that they had no right to keep us from trulyenjoyingourmarriage.
Eventually they’d let us be alone in a room together. Assuming Justus’s sentence didn’t get in theway.
It was entirely possible, according to Michael, that they would sentence him to “jail time.” Which basically meant locking him up in someone’s basement. Or they could take hisclaws.
Logically, I knew that taking his claws would be worse, because it was more permanent and would affect his ability to protect himself. But jail time would keep usapart…
The front door of the cabin squealed open at my back, and the scent of coffee wafted over me as the rapid-fire cadence of little Greg’s footsteps thumped towardme.
“Kaci!”
“Hey, munchkin!” Before he could trip down the steps, I grabbed him around the waist and hauled him into my lap. “What ‘chagot?”
“Fris-bee!” He clutched the plastic disk to his chest and struggled to free himself from mygrip.
Laughing, I set him on the grass, and he toddled off with histoy.
“He found it in the coat closet,” Faythe said as she sank onto the step next to me and handed me one of the two mugs she held. “How are you holdingup?”
“Waiting sucks.” I took a sip from my mug. The coffee was sweeter than I usually took it, but you don’t complain when your Alpha brings youcoffee.
“I know. Iremember.” For a few minutes, we watched Greg try to throw the Frisbee. Nine times out of ten, he hurled it straight at his ownfeet.
“Where’s the baby?” I asked, cradling the mug in both hands. I wasn’t cold, but the warmth was stillcomforting.
“Napping. In Marc’s arms. If we put him down in a strange bed, he wakes up screaming. My mom calls it ‘electric sheetsyndrome.’”
“I know.” None of us had gotten much sleep in the two days we’d been in themountains.
