Page 34 of The Good Boys Club

Cian maintained eye contact the entire time, his face the picture of impatience. When I finished, he started the engine again and drove down the long winding lane to Howling Pines Nature Reserve.

The place where I grew up.

Everything about my family home was as I remembered. From the sun-bleached, hand-carved woodenHOWLING PINESsign at the entrance, to the grassy ha-ha surrounding the house and gardens, to the festive wreath on the door. It was plastic and came out every year in the middle of August without fail, despite the superabundance of real leaves and flowers and pine cones and whatever else the eight hundred and fifty acres of land my pack owned yielded. Eight hundred and fifty acres on a nature reserve, to be precise.

The farmhouse ahead of us was long and narrow with the kitchen in the centre—the literal heart of the home. My room was on the right side of the building at the front, butriiightdown at the end of the wing. I could barely make out the open window. I hoped there was more breeze inside the room than out here on the dusty drive because my shirt was already gluing itself to my torso with sweat.

Forests extending into the foothills of the not-too-distant mountains cupped the rear of the house, sheltering it. Disappearing into the tree lines were smaller outbuildings, where some of my siblings had moved to, and on the right was sloping grasslands, which morphed into yet more never-ending forests.

I got out of the car and filled my lungs with every scent from my childhood. Dust clouds kicked up around my trainers—it obviously hadn’t rained in a while. Beside me, Cian climbed out also.

I ran over to the woman standing at the door, and lifted her into a hug that would have crushed her had she not been werewolf. “Hi Nana, Alpha,” I said.

“Mash, I’m so grateful you came. You’ve made an old woman very happy.”

I chose not to mention how badly she’d twisted my arm to be here. “It’s great to be home.” I pulled out of the hug. “Nana, I’d like to introduce you to my mate, Cian.”

Nana glanced over at my shifter best friend, who I had to admit looked pretty cute with his grey wolf ears poking up and his fluffy tail slick to the back of his leg.

She sucked at her teeth. “You said your mate was a she.”

My, What Big Ears You Have, Grandma!

Present Day

Cian

On the surface, Mash’s grandmother—the pack’s alpha—could have been anyone’s grandmother. Just a regular old lady. Wrinkled white skin, short grey curls, kind blue eyes, and furry silver ears and tail. She wore an elasticated tent-style skirt and a floral purple and pink blouse with oversized buttons.

“You said your mate was a she,” she said, those blue eyes of hers sliding from kind to scrutinous.

“Did I?” Mash said, laughing. “I don’t think so, Nana. It was a terrible phone connection. It’s Ci, you remember Ci?”

She did that sassy grandmother, “Mmm hmm,” and raised a single brow. Damn, we were already getting foiled. I didn’t expect to be rumbled this quickly.

“Hi . . .” I said, racing forward to shake her hand. I’d forgotten to ask Mash what the protocol was for meeting the alpha. Did I shake her hand, did I bow, let her pat my head? I couldn’t remember from the last time I’d met her . . . It had been ten years ago. And what did I address her as? She must have a name, but my mind was blanking. Did I call her Alpha or Nana, or did it even matter?

She looked down at my outstretched arm. “Hasn’t my boy told you? There’ll be no hoity-toity handshaking here. We’re huggers.” And she pulled me into a near rib-cracking embrace.

I felt her breathing in the scent of Mash on me, her chest filling with air against my stomach. Maybe she was checking the legitimacy of our bond. I held my own breath, closed my eyes, braced for impact.

She let go of me. “Nice to meet you, Cian. Welcome to the Cassidy pack.”

I breathed my sigh of relief.

“You may call me Alpha when you’re in the presence of others besides your mate, and Rita when it’s only us three present.”

I looked around, saw we were the only people out here. “Thank you, Rita.”

“Where’s Mam? Where’s everyone else?” Mash said, sidling between us and draping his arm around his grandmother. After a second of hesitation, he dropped the other arm around me—which was weird, to say the least. Mash had always been a touchy-feely, hands-on type of guy. Not just awkward bro hug-slaps, but proper cuddles, and right then was the moment he hesitated?

She smiled at me. “You boys are early. We aren’t expecting people until tomorrow. I’ll call your sisters and Zach and Kai over this evening. Your mam’s in the workshop. Come inside, I’ll get the kettle on. We’ll bring your bags through later.”

“Got any biscuits?” Mash said.

It was slightly warmer than the average August. As always, the Mythic Realms were a few degrees cooler than the sweltering summer heat of the city, but the main difference with the city was that every building, every single one of them, had air con.

“Fuck,” I huffed as we emerged from the small entrance hall lined with photos of Mash and his siblings into . . . the belly of hell.

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