I sigh and toss back more champagne.
Lord Vince appears next to me, and I about spit out my drink. “Drinking won’t speed up time. You’ll have to actually find a way to have fun.”
“That’swhyI’m drinking.”
“Come on, was he really that bad?”
I shoot him agive me a breaklook.
He gets the picture. “Okay, that bad. Do you want me to eat him?” Lord Vince says.
“What? No, you can’teathim.”
Vince shrugs.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?”
His question requires another sip of champagne.
“Ah. Nervous?”
“More like confused. The idea of being with someone besides Caleb feels like settling.”
“And Caleb is?”
“My mate.”
“You have a mate?”
“Well,did, I should clarify.”
“Oh. My condolences.”
“Not that. He didn’t die. We just can’t be together.”
“I see. It sounds complicated.”That’s an understatement.“So, what’s your plan?”
Chapter FIFTY-SIX
Caleb
May, the day before the Hunt
Circular tables dressed in white tablecloths are scattered across cobblestone. Champagne flutes and gilded cutlery surround floral centerpieces from my father’s garden. Brunch the day before the Hunt is an old tradition predating my father’s reign.
Every year, it’s held in the Hunter’s Quarters. This feast is the last time the entire pack will be together before the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes potentially mate with other packs’ wolves. The meal is typically extravagant in both menu and decor. This year’s event might not have the same luxury as years prior, but no one is complaining.
Typically, we would have two feasts but, one before the Hunt is all we have enough for, given the restoration this pack needs. Truthfully, I think it’s better this way. One was a privilege and luxury in itself. Two is overkill.
My pack was less disappointed than I expected about breaking tradition. They, too, see how unnecessary it is. This will likely be the first change I make as alpha.
I know one person who would approve.
Seated at a table with my beta, everyone from Bloodhound dines and laughs—everyone except me. I force a smile but can’t shake the loneliness with the whole pack celebrating. This is the first feast without my father and blaming grief would be a lie.
I miss her.
I’m reminded of Jay when I’m handed a plate with a juicy steak. We have very different perspectives, but I cherish who she is because they make herher.
