Page 70 of Wrestling With Werewolves

Richard moves behind me and sets the bottles out on the counter, and for the next hour, I guide him through moisturizer and leave-in conditioner and combing and another round of moisturizer.

And I play. And I sing.

And I’ve never felt so peaceful or hopeful in my entire life as when my mate learns how to wrap a silk scarf around my drying curls.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER - RICHARD

Did I feel happiness before Lola? I mean, I think I was happy. But now, having her here? My heart is so full, I can barely stand it. I feel young and exuberant, like my only priority is to run to my pack and shout about how I found my mate. And not only that, but the Luna bond that’ll continue to grow and develop between us, making us stronger, better leaders.

Together.

I feed Lola a hearty lunch of spaghetti and meatballs, then tuck her into my bed. She looks like a goddess-blessed angel curled around my pillow, clutching one of my tees.

For the next hour, the treehouse and I clean up the living room, moving the furniture back where it belongs. With deep regret, I pull the nest apart and put everything away. The blankets and pillows all go in the wash. I open the front window to let in some fresh air, and then I deep clean. Everything gets scrubbed and shined and buffed until the treehouse is back to normal.

It kills me to wash away evidence of Lola’s heat. But we’ve got plenty of heats ahead of us. They’ll come more often now that we’re mated.

And thank fuck for that. Glory day.

I grin at Big Daddy’s reappearance. You finally back? Her wolf running you ragged, old man?

A scoffy snort rumbles in our bond. Not fucking hardly. She’s perfect. We’re perfect. She needs rest, and I’ve never been better.

Does that mean you’ll stop fighting me on everything?

He pauses for a moment, his tone unusually serious when he finally responds. I never wanted to fight you, Richard. I am you. You are me. But you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. It’s my job to make that happen. And I will never, ever fail in my duty. We are blessed by Alaya herself to have what we have. Don’t forget that, he tacks on.

A knock on my front door rings through the treehouse. Not wanting the noise to wake Lola, I rush for the door and rip it open just as Big Daddy snarls into our bond.

In the doorway stands Marco, his private guard behind him with their traditional silver long swords pointed at me. My king’s narrowed eyes move around the room suspiciously before landing on my naked form.

He glances up, his expression full of disappointment as his lips curl back into a sneer. “Where’s my fucking daughter?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER - LOLA

I’m having the most pleasant dream until my wolf wakes me, ripping at our bond until I shoot upright. Shouting rings out from somewhere outside the bedroom. My first thought is Richard. Instinct searches our bond, and he’s there, but?—

“Marco’s here,” he warns me.

“Oh fuck,” I snap, desperately searching for some clothing before realizing it’s a lost cause. I have no idea where my clothes ended up. This’ll go better if we face the music right now, even though this isn’t how I wanted to tell my father the happy news.

“Lola?!” My papá's voice echoes through the treehouse, footsteps nearing the bedroom as the treehouse stills around us, like she’s holding her breath.

I lift my head and emerge from the bedroom, naked as the day I was born.

Papá whips around, eyes narrowed as he scans my figure. When his eyes land on the puncture marks on my shoulder, he balls his fists, chest heaving. “So it’s true, what the young gargoyle in town told me when I arrived. You went into heat with Richard? How could you, Lola? This is what I protected you from my entire life! I sent you here for your safety, to keep you protected!”

Papá’s voice is thunderous as he spits venom, pointing at Richard, who stands with Papá’s guard around him in a half circle.

My mate shakes his head softly. “I’m not hurt, sweetheart. This isn’t ideal, but?—”

Papá rounds on Richard. “How could you take advantage of her like this? You were my Second, my friend. I sent her here to keep her from Eliel doing this exact thing!” His voice rises in intensity as Richard opens his mouth to respond. But Papá whirls back to me. “We’re going home, now.” He jerks his head toward the guards, who grab Richard around the neck and shoulders and drag him off his feet.

He doesn’t struggle, his dark eyes swirling with Big Daddy’s green. “Stop, Marco,” he commands. His voice is full of Big Daddy’s authority. My father and his guard bristle and stare.

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