Page 43 of Howling Mad
“You’re really important to me.”The words come out with more intensity than I intended, but I don’t regret them.“I want to do this right.No more compartmentalizing.”
She squeezes my hands and smiles.“I guess we’re going to a pack gathering.Should I bring my formal howling attire, or is it more of a casual mauling event?”
Relief washes through me, followed quickly by concern.“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Probably not,” she says cheerfully, returning to her curry, “but that’s half the fun, right?”
I resist the urge to tell her there will be nothing fun about the forthcoming ordeal.I don’t want her to change her mind about coming, as selfish as that might be.
Thedrivetopackterritory the following weekend takes nearly three hours because I keep subconsciously dropping my speed.I spend most of that time briefing Finley on the complex politics she’s about to encounter.The closer we get to the territory border, the tighter my grip becomes on the steering wheel, and the lighter I press down on the gas pedal.
“Okay, so your father is the beta, which means he’s second-in-command,” Finley recites, counting off on her fingers.“Dexter Wilson is the alpha, and he’s been in power for twenty-five years.Your aunt Eleanor is the pack historian, and she’s your only real ally.Did I miss anything?”
“Just that you’ll be walking into a hornets’ nest of tradition, judgment, and passive-aggressive political maneuvering disguised as pack bonding.”I navigate the winding forest road from memory, each curve bringing us closer to my past.“My father has certain expectations about my future that don’t include a career in finance or a mate who works at a modern dating agency.”
“You mean he doesn’t dream of his son mating with a matchmaker?I’m shocked.”She places her hand on my thigh.“I’ve faced judgmental wolves my entire life.I’ll survive a weekend with your pack.”
I cover her hand with mine, wishing I shared her confidence.“Just...stay close to me or Aunt Eleanor.The others can be...traditional.”
“Traditional.”She nods knowingly.“Wolf-speak for ‘thinks wolves who aren’t leadership should be submissive.’”
“Something like that.”
We pass through the pack boundary, marked by discreet territorial symbols that most humans would overlook.Immediately, the atmosphere shifts.The forest hums with an energy that speaks to our wolves.No matter how long I’ve been away, my body remembers this place at a cellular level.
The main compound comes into view.Cars are already parked in the clearing, indicating most pack members have arrived.I park at the edge where I parked last time, taking a final moment of privacy.“Last chance to back out,” I tell Finley.“We could fake a work emergency.Food poisoning.Spontaneous combustion.”
She leans across the console and kisses me briefly but fiercely.“We’ve got this.”
“Right.”She sounds so confident that I take strength from that.We’re barely out of the car when a tall, silver-haired woman emerges from the closest cabin, her face lighting up at the sight of us.
“Michael?”Aunt Eleanor strides toward us, her arms outstretched.“You actually came.”
I embrace her, breathing in the familiar scent of sage and old books.“Not like I had a choice this time.I had the sense refusing would lead to banishment.”
She pulls back, studying my face with knowing eyes.“Indeed.Your father has been particularly...motivated about this gathering.”Her gaze shifts to Finley, brightening with interest.“And this must be Finley.I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope?”Finley extends her hand, which Eleanor bypasses entirely in favor of a warm hug.
“All from Michael, so naturally, all glowing.”She links her arm through Finley’s.“Come, let me show you where you’ll be staying.Michael’s old room has been hastily converted for guests, which in pack terms means someone threw a fresh blanket over the bed and called it done.”
I groan, realizing I won’t even get my own cabin for this stay.Definitely Father’s meddling, I’m sure, since I usually take one of the smaller cabins on the very rare occasions when I have an overnight stay.
As Eleanor leads us toward the lodge, I scan the compound.Pack members mill about, preparing for the evening’s welcome feast.Many turn to stare as we pass, their expressions ranging from curious to openly disapproving.I position myself protectively beside Finley, tensing.
“Your father is in the main lodge with Dexter,” says Eleanor quietly.“They’ve been in meetings all day.Something about investment restructuring.”
A chill runs through me.My father has never shown the slightest interest in the pack’s financial matters before.Another piece of the puzzle falls into place, and the picture forming isn’t pretty.
My father’s cabin looks exactly as I remember with its rustic logs, wide porch, and stone steps.Inside, the main room remains a blend of my father’s spartan tastes and vestiges of my mom’s more comfortable touches.Father never got around to changing them after she died.Family photos line the walls, including several of me in various stages of childhood, always a bit apart from the other pack pups and always looking slightly uncomfortable in ceremonial settings.
Eleanor guides us to my old bedroom, now prepared with fresh linens and a small vase of wildflowers on the nightstand.Her touch, undoubtedly.“I’ll let you settle in,” she says.“The welcome feast begins at sunset.Formal pack attire.”She gives me a meaningful look.“Your father had yours brought out of storage.”
After she leaves, I open the closet to find exactly what I’ve been dreading—the traditional formal wear of a beta’s son.Dark tailored pants, a crisp white shirt, and the ceremonial animal-skin, probably deer, vest embroidered with the pack’s symbols and my family’s markings.I haven’t worn it in nearly a decade.At least I don’t have to don a fur cape like the alpha and beta.
“That’s quite something,” says Finley, examining the elaborate embroidery with barely a hint of dismay in her expression.“Very...wolfy.”
“It’s ridiculous.”I touch the fabric reluctantly.“These ceremonies are living fossils.All pageantry and no substance.”
