Page 23 of Reformed Wolf

I could tell my father wanted to say something, but he hesitated. After a long moment, he leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table between us. “I know you hate me, but I swear, if I’d known fate had chosen your mate…” my dad began, speaking softly. There were always listening ears.

“Don’t,” I said sharply. “You wouldn’t have done anything differently if you’d known.”

His mouth tipped down in the corners, and he opened his mouth to reply, but we heard Tristan approaching, the pad of bare feet across the marble floor.

Tristan walked into the dining room wearing a blue button-down that made his eyes piercing. He had the sleeves rolled up, and sure enough, his feet were bare, revealing a fair amount of his ankles at the bottom of the navy slacks, as predicted. “Still not fancy enough for this room, but at least I smell better,” he joked, prowling in to sit in the seat across from me.

As promised, my father had ditched his tie, but that was as dressed down as he was going to get. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him barefoot. “Don’t stress about it. Would you like some wine? Or I have an imported wolfsbane whiskey if you’re in the mood for something stronger.” He lifted his own tumbler, the ice cubes tinkling.

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m going to need my head screwed on straight tomorrow—or I guess that would be later today.”

“Yes, yes, of course…” He sighed, examining Tristan with tired eyes. “I’m not often wrong, but when I am, I’m alpha enough to swallow my pride and admit it.” He drew in a deep breath. “I was wrong about you, Tristan. You may not fight like someone who’s been trained, but you hold your own. You’ve shown yourself to be strong and clever, and it seems my son is fond of you. And considering I wasn’t very fair to you in that first match, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d let Avi shoot me. You didn’t have to save me, but you did. Thank you.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, but I could see he appreciated the apology. “It was the right thing to do.”

I wished I could reach out and touch him, but he was too far away. The table could easily seat a dozen, and it was ridiculous for just the three of us. It made Tristan look smaller somehow, less confident, the way his shoulders curved in. He was out of his depth here, and it showed.

As the first course was carried out by kitchen staff and set down in front of him, he stared down at all the forks beside his plate. I cleared my throat, and when he glanced across the table at me, I made a show of picking up the correct utensil.

He chuckled and followed my lead. “I’m sorry. This is… a lot to take in. I have to admit, I don’t typically—” He debated what to say. “Honestly, where I come from, we don’t even use utensils half the time. Hell, we don’t even need plates if we’re not in the mood. We live really simply. It’s a camp in the woods a ways outside the city. We don’t even have electricity or plumbing.”

I could feel my dad’s shock. “Then what finds you in the city?”

“I make most of the supply runs for my pack. Handle our financial investments, buy the food we can’t grow or hunt for ourselves.”

I’m not sure what I expected from my dad, but it wasn’t the relaxed smile he gave Tristan. “That’s an admirable life,” he said, nodding. “I admit, I’m a little jealous of your freedom. I’ve been feeling a bit trapped these days.” He gestured with his fork at the room around us.

“You have?” I asked, stunned by the revelation. I thought I was the only one that felt that way. “Then why don’t you make some changes? You’re the boss, you can do whatever you want.”

He smiled softly at me. “Maybe one day I will…” After a moment, his smile turned mischievous. “To hell with it. No time to start like the present. Come on, grab your plates.” He pushed his chair back and picked up his plate and tumbler of scotch. He shook his head when one of the staff tried to help. “I’ve got it.”

“Oh—” I shared a quick glance with Tristan, then we both followed suit. I heard the staff behind us scrambling to make adjustments.

My father led the way down a long dark hallway and into his library. “This is my favorite room in the house,” he said, setting his plate and glass down at a small table under the tall window that looked out over the rose garden. It was a smaller, more intimate table, and though it was still swanky, it wasn’t as overwhelmingly lavish. “I’ve always hated the formal dining room. This is much better.”

Tristan and I lowered into chairs at the table. We were close enough now that I could feel the heat coming off him, and when I shifted my leg, our knees bumped into each other. I smiled and added pressure, and he hooked his ankle around mine to pull me even closer.

“So, Tristan, tell me about your family. You mentioned you had two mothers. That’s an unusual pairing around here. Do they live in the camp as well?”

Tristan’s playful smile slid off his face, and for a moment, it was like I saw the real him, the one I yearned to know. “Uh, no. My mothers are dead. My sister too. Bianca was six.”

My fork dropped with a clatter, loud in the sudden shocked silence. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Trisan,” I whispered, my heart aching for his loss. I reached under the table and put my hand on his thigh, offering what little comfort I could.

“May I ask how it happened?” my dad asked softly.

Tristan’s mask slipped into place, guarding his emotions and revealing nothing on the outside. I, however, could feel everything. Even though our mating link was incomplete, I could feel his grief, like bitter chocolate on my tongue. I was devastated by everything he’d lost. He shrugged. “A pack dispute after a lean year. We should’ve seen it coming. My family were not the only ones we lost. It was… bad.”

“And did you get revenge?” My father’s eyes had gone dark, his knuckles white in their grip on his knife and fork. I knew what he was thinking: Someone always has to pay. And while I didn’t always agree with his business tactics, I found I was on the same page this time.

My mate sighed and gave a tight smile. “Trust me, I was ready to burn the world to the ground, but there was no one left to punish for what happened. Both packs were decimated in the fight. We rallied around our new Alpha, Shan, and those of us that were left started over somewhere new. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s getting better.”

I squeezed his thigh gently. I knew all too well what it felt like to lose someone to a clan dispute. “My mom—” I began, but my father slammed his tumbler down on the table, scotch splashing over his hand. He glared at me, refusing to hear our own story told.

Father tossed back the last of his drink and pushed away from the table abruptly. “It’s late. You’ll stay here in a guest room tonight. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Thank you,” Tristan said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t about to fight my father on this, and neither was I if it meant keeping my mate close for the night.

My dad paused in the doorway. “For what it’s worth, I hope you win.”

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