Page 163 of Priceless

Everett swore. “We owe you one.”

“Actually you don’t for that, because you pay me handsomely. But for this? This you might owe me one for.”

Another email appeared, and I opened it. The documents were older, clearly scanned in, and grainy. But there was no doubt about what they said.

I looked up, and my packmates met my gaze. “Holy shit.”

54

TARRAGON

(DRAGON HERB, FUZZY WEED, GREEN DRAGON, KING OF HERBS, SNAKEFOOT)

MEANING: HORROR; PERMANENCE; SHOCKING OCCURRENCE

OCEAN

________

“Ilove your house, Iz,” Trinity said. “And god knows I love your parent’s estate, but this is nice.”

We sat on the back terrace behind the house, lounging in the afternoon breeze. The umbrella over the table wasn’t doing that much good, but I savored the bit of shade. Especially since I was wearing a light cardigan. I would take it off soon, but I wanted to reveal my bite when we were comfortable and not in the doorway.

Isolde laughed and rolled her eyes. Her own bites were on display with her strapless top. Four of them. Her Beta had her bite on his neck. They were gently faded now, and you wouldn’t immediately see them if you weren’t looking.

My skin was darker. Would Cameron’s bite be paler when it healed? Right now it was still obvious, and I didn’t mind one fucking bit.

“So have you recovered? You dropped off the planet for a bit there. Jetlag must have been a bitch.” Trinity raised her glass.

“You could say I’m recovered, yeah.”

In my chest, my husband’s emotions hovered gently. All three of them felt like they were concentrating in different ways. The fact that I could feel them all was simply my favorite thing.

“Why do I feel like that’s leading to a story?”

I sipped my drink. Marcella made us some of the best margaritas I’d ever had. This one was strawberry, but I wanted to taste the watermelon one she’d offered. “Because it is.” Clearing my throat, I told them about Frank and what had happened.

Trinity grabbed her phone. “I can still ruin his ass, O. Let me at him.”

“Pretty sure my husbands are already on it, but that’s not the real story.”

“That’s not the real story?”

I shook my head and pulled the cardigan away from my bite. Their gazes fell to my neck, and they both went still.

“Wait,” Isolde said. “Really?”

“Really. They’re mine. Scent matched. That night at the gala they saw me and wanted to approach me, and when they did… they scented me.” I couldn’t stop my smile. “They invented the marriage in order to get close to me.”

Both my friend’s mouths hung open, staring at me.

“Please say something.”

“Oh my god, congratulations!” Isolde was out of her chair and hugging me, laughing. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me either,” I said honestly.

It still hadn’t fully sunk in that this was real and not some sort of desperate fever dream that I made up.

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