Page 17 of The Renegade Mate

“We’d be honored,” Ryan said, his voice strong and sincere.

Ivan, who had been quietly watching our conversation until now, finally spoke, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism. “It’s not all games and dances, you know. The festival is a tradition, a symbol of what we stand for. It’s important.”

“We understand,” Ryan replied, his tone matching Ivan’s seriousness. “We respect what Bridgetown stands for, and we want to be part of it, even if just for a short while.”

Tucker’s excitement seemed to dim for a moment, catching the undercurrents at play here. But his optimism was undeterred.

“You’ll see,” he said, his voice softer now, a warm smile spreading across his face. “The festival will make you feel like part of the family. And who knows, maybe you’ll even decide to stay!”

Ryan laughed. “Maybe!” he replied as he squeezed my hand under the table. We both knew we were grateful for the offer of sanctuary here, but we had no intention of making this our permanent home.

“With these human and werewolf events, do you have any issues with the out-of-towners bringing in drugs?” Derek asked.

Michael’s face turned serious. “You mean ripple?”

I frowned, remembering Ryan's conversation with Mason and Sam in the hotel room. “What exactly is ripple?”

“Theriothiamine, or ‘ripple’ on the streets, is a new drug that is reported to be highly addictive for Shifters. It’s popular in the conclave cities and is now spreading into the Shifter communities.”

Derek nodded. “We’ve been hearing rumors about the drug. It was all down south, but I have reason to believe it’s here now. I was wondering if you had drug issues before in your human community and the tourists who visit? If so, the supply lines would already be there, and the dealers could use those to start shipping ripple into the northern Packs.”

“There is recreational drug use here, but we keep an eye on it. We know who the dealers are, and if they try to move in the hard stuff, we shut it down. This ripple, though,” Michael paused, glancing at Camille, “it’s concerning. The side effects are nasty for Shifters, and I have a contact down south who told me they’re hearing rumors that the dealers down there are planning to flood the north with this stuff.”

Derek and Ryan exchanged a look, and I remembered what Sam had said about it.

“You think ripple is already in Three Rivers?”

“You remember the two Bridgetown humans killed?” Ryan replied. “The ones Carson was framed for?”

“They were low-level drug dealers, no?”

Ryan nodded. “When Derek and I went to see Eddie Keller—the witness who was forced to say he saw Carson at the scene—he said the humans had been dealing in ripple.”

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” Michael did not sound happy.

Ryan shrugged. “We weren’t exactly sharing information at that point. And since then, we’ve all been somewhat distracted.”

Michael glared down the table at his Beta.

“I’ll look into it,” Danni said, keeping her gaze on the table.

As the conversation drifted to other topics, my attention began to slide toward Shya. She was seated across from me, a smile occasionally playing on her lips. With Tucker, her warmth was unmistakable. Their interactions were full of playful glances and teasing remarks. Tucker’s youthful energy found a kindred spirit in Shya, and their connection was the spark that often ignited the room’s laughter. But it was her interactions with her brother Henry that revealed a deeper layer of her character. She listened to him carefully, her eyes softening with genuine affection whenever he spoke. There was a mutual respect between them, a shared understanding.

But I noticed the tension in Shya’s posture when her parents spoke. Her mother’s gentle reminders and her father’s proud glances seemed to chafe at her, an invisible tether that pulled her back to a role she seemed desperate to outgrow.

“I hope you’ll join us for the traditional Baka dance, Shya,” her mother said, a note of expectation in her voice. “It’s always been a favorite part of the festival for you.”

Shya’s eyes flickered, a momentary shadow crossing her face. “I’ll think about it, Mother,” she replied, her voice holding a hint of defiance. “I might have other plans.”

Her mother’s eyes widened, and her father’s fork paused in mid-air. Around the table, conversations stilled, and I could feel the unspoken tension rising.

“You know how much it means to your father and me,” her mother began, but Shya cut her off.

“I know, Mother, but I’m not a little girl anymore. The Baka dance is for the Pack’s children. I know we stretched the rule these last few years as I wanted to do it with Tucker and Henry, but I’m getting too old for it now.”

I caught the disappointed look on Camille’s face before she turned away. “Of course. Perhaps you’re right.”

Mason wasn’t taking his eyes off of Shya. He was going to have to be more subtle. It wouldn’t be long before Michael and Camille noticed, and I didn’t know how they would feel about Mason and Shya getting together—that is, if Shya even accepted him. If they objected, would they ask Mason to leave? I couldn’t let us be split up. If Mason left, we would all need to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan kick his brother under the table. Mason grunted, quickly turning it into a cough when everyone at the table looked at him. I guess I wasn’t the only one who saw him brooding over Shya.

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