Page 17 of Howling Mad
She studies me with sharp eyes.“You look tired.”
I shrug.“Work’s intense, and…I’ve had some personal stuff.”
She arches an eyebrow.“I’d ask if it’s about a woman, but I see that faint flush on your cheeks, so I suspect yes.”
A laugh escapes, surprising me.“You read me too well.”
She gestures for me to follow her out a side door, away from the crowd.“Walk with me to my cabin.We can chat more privately.”
We cross the lodge grounds, weaving between small cabins.I sense wolves staring, whispering.I keep my gaze straight.Aunt Eleanor’s cabin sits near the tree line, modest but well-kept.She opens the door, ushering me into a cozy living area stuffed with old books and meticulously labeled boxes of pack archives.The smell of lavender drifts from a half-burned candle.
She motions to an armchair for me and then settles on a worn sofa.“I heard from your father that you’re ignoring pack events again.You know he’s not thrilled.”
I exhale.“I know, but I’m living in the city now, building a career.”
She nods calmly.“Your father won’t budge on his expectations.You realize that?”
I tilt my head back, closing my eyelids for a moment.“I do.He thinks I’m neglecting my wolf side.It’s not that.I just… I can’t be what he wants.I tried, with all these forced dates in the pack and then with wolves outside the pack.None of it worked.”
She smiles gently.“I recall you mentioning a matchmaker...”
I cough, remembering how I explained it on a previous visit.“Yes.It’s an agency run by a red panda, who helps shifters who don’t fit typical molds.”
Eleanor’s eyes gleam.“That’s where you found this new woman you’re thinking about, hmm?”
Blood rushes to my face.“She’s not exactly new.She’s the matchmaker’s assistant.Actually, she’s the one who’s been picking my dates.”
Her lips part in amusement.“So, not a client, but the consultant.How intriguing.”
Heat creeps up my neck.“I didn’t plan it, but after a string of terrible matches, we had a moment.We ended up talking while eating takeout.It felt more real than any date.Now, I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Eleanor leans forward, her curiosity piqued.“Tell me about her.”
I rub my palms together, unsure how to begin.“Her name’s Finley.She’s also a wolf from a hyper-traditional pack.She left them because they tried forcing her into alpha marriages.She’s easy to talk to, sharp-witted, and confident in this quiet way.”I pause, glancing away.“She sees me.Not my father’s expectations, not my bank account, butme.”
Eleanor’s eyes soften.“You deserve that.Does she reciprocate your interest?”
I swallow.“It’s complicated.She’s my matchmaker, so there’s a professional line, but I think…” I exhale.“I think, yes.I pick up on subtle cues.”
Eleanor taps her chin.“You sound smitten.”
A short laugh tumbles out.“I haven’t used that word since reading old romance novels for my college lit class, but yeah, maybe I am.This is huge for me.I’ve never had someone I genuinely wanted to open up to who also shares some of my experiences, like not fitting in.”
She hums, nodding.“Don’t let your father’s worldview stop you from pursuing happiness.”
I sink deeper into the chair.“He’ll hate it.She’s not a typical wolf in his sense.He wants me to pick someone who hunts daily and devotes her life to pack events.”
Eleanor picks up a small crocheted doily, fiddling with it.“He wants power and sees your mate as a tool for alliances.You already broke tradition by leaving for finance.Why not break it again for your mate?”
I rub my temple, tension flaring.“I know, but ignoring my father entirely is easier said than done.He’s beta.The pack is constantly under his sway.”
She stands, crossing the room to rest a comforting hand on my shoulder.“Michael, you can’t bend your entire life to appease him.If you want to be with this matchmaker, do it.If you want to stay in the city, do it.The pack’s acceptance might come later, or maybe never, but you deserve your own path.”
I let out a slow breath.“I appreciate it.”
She steps back, rummaging in a drawer.“I can’t do much about your father’s stubbornness, but I do have moonshine if you need to fortify yourself for the rest of the evening.”
A laugh breaks through my anxiety.“Moonshine might be overkill, but thanks.”
