Page 83 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

“She’s smart and brave and so beautiful that the first time she spoke to me, I just gawked at her awkwardly.”

For the first time all day, a ray of sunshine broke through the storm clouds in my soul. How could I leave Guadalupe Falls? I had Gina, Elias, Gideon, and Sasquatch to look after. I’d also want to look after Conall, but how could I stay and watch him live out the life I once thought I’d have with him? “What happened next?”

“She cracked a joke that was so utterly brilliant, I didn’t know whether or not it was a joke. In some ways, your humor reminds me of hers. You’d like her.”

“I’m sure I would.” Was now the time to ask Sasquatch his real name? Or did I ask for the one that belonged to the woman he loved? Or should I just relish the fact that he’d shared part of his love story with me?

Before I could decide, his phone rang, and he held up a finger, silently requesting a moment to answer it. As he listened to the voice on the other end—one I recognized immediately, despite being unable to make out the words—Sasquatch’s pale green gaze moved to me. “Yes, sir.”

He hung up the phone, and I held my breath, afraid of what he’d say and afraid of what he wouldn’t. Then he hopped to his feet and extended a hand. “Evidently, you and I are going to that wedding after all.”

What did one wear to a wedding between a witch and one’s werewolf ex-boyfriend?

Considering I’d had all of ten minutes to get ready, it ended up being what I already had in the closet. While my little black dress suited my mood, I also wasn’t in the mood to draw the ireof any more witches. The blush-colored dress with the glittery scoop neckline didn’t hide the deep scratches across the front of my throat, but it was what it was.

After throwing my hair into a loose bun and snagging my heels, Sasquatch drove us into the mountains, so fast that I closed my eyes, held onto the oh-shit handle, and prayed we wouldn’t wreck.

Once we arrived at compound, he left me with Gina, Elias, and Gideon and rushed to his house to change.

We walked to a hilltop that opened up to a meadow, and who knew a bunch of werewolves could throw together such a beautiful last-minute wedding?

Rows of chairs had been arranged among tall pines that stretched toward the sky and filled the air with their fresh mountain scent. I was surprised to see a dozen or so men mixed in with the beautiful women seated on the bride’s side, leaving me wondering if there were male witches, or if they were family, and how that worked. While a handful of the women wore gothic dresses, complete with corsets and charcoal eyeliner, the majority looked like a mix of woodland fairies and modern women you’d pass on the street.

In Hollywood, anyway. Either they had great skin care routines or performing spells was great for the pores.

Our group settled into the second to last row on the groom’s side, saving a seat for Sasquatch on the end. Fairy lights twinkled in the branches over our heads, and since squinting didn’t reveal wires and the heights were beyond anything even Sasquatch could reach on a ladder, I assumed there was magic at play. I guess that made them witch lights.

Longing wrapped barbed strings around my heart as I took in the rose petal–strewn aisle that led to an archway made up of a crescent moon and a pentagram.

“Conall’s going to hate all the witch symbols,” I muttered, more to myself, but Gina wrapped her arm around my shoulders and rested her head against mine.

“I’m so sorry, hon. I know this is as hard for you as it is him.”

Shit, I was going to cry. Elias and Gideon spun in their seats and offered hand squeezes and knee pats, and I focused on holding myself together. Deep down, I felt like I shouldn’t be here, even though I wanted to see Conall one last time before...

Nope. Don’t go there or youwillcry.

Still, why had he asked me to come? Did he worry someone might get injured? I wasn’t sure, although I feared it proved that the only way the both of us would be able to move on was to be apart.

Sasquatch slid into the seat next to me as a woman announced the ceremony was about to begin. He wore a tweed suit that hearkened back to the early 1900s, with a tie, a vest, a chained gold pocket watch, and a jacket that totally worked for him. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but the commotion up front drew my attention.

My heart ceased beating as Conall, dressed in a white shirt and a black suit with a bowtie, took his place next to the altar, so handsome it literally hurt. Diego and Tyrese lined up next to him, music swelled, and I plummeted into agony as the realization I’d have to leave town—leave him—swallowed me whole.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“I object,”Diego yelled, and I about slapped a hand over my face.

“We’re not at that part of the ceremony yet,” the witch who was acting as our injustice-of-the-forced-peace said.

If this wasn’t an overblown show of the Oldenwilde Coven’s power, and I hadn’t been coerced into a suit to sing and dance like some kind of monkey, I might feel bad for Natalia Burroughs. I highly doubted this was a dream come true for her, either. Still, she’d walked down the aisle with grace, head held dutifully high, and I supposed that objectively, she even made a beautiful bride.

No one compared to my mate, though. I’d barely caught sight of Kerrigan, but it was enough to debilitate the beating of my heart, even as it fortified the decision I’d made. I could also smell her among the guests, my nose joining every cell in my body that reached for her as my instincts screamed this wedding was all wrong.

I opened and closed my fists, reminding myself I needed to lose this fight. For the record, the “I object” Diego tossed out wasn’t the wayIwould’ve thrown the gauntlet.

He’s not going to be able to lead the people. Without me to steer the pack in the right direction, we’ll end up in even more danger.

What if he’s scared of the Council? They’ll never get their boots off our necks.I batted those errant thoughts away. No matter how much I told myself that Diego would do a fine job, my pride or confidence or whatever-the-fuck anyone wanted to call it argued. The idea of letting go of control was akin to ripping out my spine.

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