Page 52 of Howling Mad
For the next twenty minutes, I’m trapped in financial advisory purgatory, explaining why gambling systems aren’t actually investments while they counter with increasingly creative arguments about “statistical inevitabilities” and “psychic connections to the wheel.”
I’m saved by the dinner bell, escaping to find Finley already seated at our designated table.She looks flushed but happy, deep in conversation with a leopard shifter couple.
“There you are.”She reaches for my hand as I sit.“I was about to send a search party.”
“I was explaining to three retired wolves why theirfoolproofroulette system will, in fact, lead to financial ruin.”I loosen my bow tie slightly.“How was your chat with the alpha’s mate?”
“Surprisingly pleasant.”She leans closer, lowering her voice.“Also, I’m pretty sure your father has been stalking our table.He’s passed by three times, each time shedding more cape fur into people’s soup.”
I glance across the room to where my father now stands with Red, who appears to be demonstrating something with enthusiastic hand gestures while he maintains a frozen smile.His ceremonial cape has indeed begun to look patchy, like a molting bear in springtime.It doesn’t usually see so much usage in a year, let alone a night.
“Red will keep him occupied,” I assure her, though I’m not entirely convinced.“She’s the master of social manipulation.”
As if summoned by my words, Red appears at the microphone on the small stage at the front of the room.“Esteemed shifters and honored guests!The time has come for our Recognition Ceremony, where we celebrate the successful matches made through our humble agency.”
What follows is anything but humble as she introduces a parade of couples with increasingly elaborate backstories, each punctuated by Red’s theatrical commentary.A lion and tiger match (“crossing the feline divide!”), twin bear shifters who found partners on the same day (“double the bears, double the love!”), and a remarkably dignified elderly tortoise shifter, who found companionship with a much younger fox (“proof that romance knows no age...or speed limitations!”).
Throughout it all, Red circulates business cards that play a tinny howling sound when tilted, causing random wolf calls to echo through the room at unexpected intervals.
Finally, she beckons us to the stage.“And now, our featured match of the evening.A romance that defied tradition, overcame allergic reactions, and proved that even the most challenging…or oblivious…wolves can find their perfect mate.”
We make our way to the stage, holding hands.Under the lights, she looks even more radiant in her red dress.My earlier nerves dissolve as she smiles up at me.
Red launches into a dramatically embellished version of our story, describing my allergic reactions in vivid detail (“his nose actually transformed mid-sneeze!”) and recounting Finley’s topiary crash with wild gesticulations (“cupid himself couldn’t have arranged a more perfect catastrophe!”).It’s slightly more painful than undergoing an appendectomy without anesthesia.
Just as she’s building to her grand conclusion, a figure rises from the audience.My father steps forward, cape shedding ominously behind him.“If I may,” he interrupts, his authoritative voice cutting through Red’s narrative.“As Michael’s father and beta of the Wilson pack, I feel compelled to offer some...context.”
A hush falls over the gathering.Red looks momentarily flustered, clearly unprepared for this impromptu addition to her carefully orchestrated program.“By all means,” she manages, stepping back slightly.
My father approaches the stage, every inch the imposing pack leader except for that natty cape.“For those unfamiliar with wolf traditions, true mating is not just about personal preference or convenience.It’s about strengthening the pack and combining compatible traits to produce strong offspring.”
The room temperature seems to drop several degrees.Beside me, Finley tenses, but her expression remains determinedly neutral.
“Looking at this...match,” he continues, gesturing between us, “one must question the foundation.A son who rejected his pack responsibilities for human finance, and a female with nontraditional physical characteristics.”His gaze sweeps Finley from head to toe, lingering pointedly on her curves.“Wolves typically seek physically compatible mates, not runts and rebels finding each other out of desperation.”
Gasps ripple through the audience.Red’s mouth drops open in shock.
“One must wonder,” my father concludes, “how two wolves whosettlecan consider it a true mating.”
A deadly silence falls.Every gaze in the room turns to us, waiting for our response to this public humiliation.
Before either of us can speak, a commotion erupts near the dessert table.A startled waiter, backing away from the tension, knocks over a decorative candle onto an elaborate tablescape of dried flowers and fabric.Flames leap up immediately, triggering the venue’s sprinkler system.
Water cascades from the ceiling, drenching everyone.Shrieks and curses fill the air as carefully styled hair collapses and expensive fabrics cling to bodies.Through it all, my father stands motionlessly, his ceremonial cape beginning to shrink visibly in the water and pulling tightly across his shoulders like a child’s superhero costume.
In the chaos, Finley begins to laugh.Not hysterically, but with genuine amusement at the absurdity of it all.Water plastering her hair to her face, makeup streaming, and dress clinging to the curves my father just criticized, she looks directly at him.“You know what?”She raises her voice to be heard over the commotion.“You’re right about one thing.This didn’t start as a traditional match.It began as an unconventional choice, a matchmaker and her client breaking all the rules.”
She turns to me, her eyes bright with certainty.“But it’s become the most authentic connection I’ve ever experienced.I don’t care what anyone thinks isproperortraditional.This is real.”
Her simple honesty cuts through the chaos.I step forward, taking her hand and facing my father directly.
“I spent my entire life trying to meet your expectations,” I say, my voice steady.“Trying to be the son you wanted instead of the wolf I am, but with Finley, I don’t have to try.I can just be.”
My father’s expression flickers with something unreadable as his cape continues to shrink comically, now resembling a child’s backpack.
“You can question our match all you want,” I continue.“You can disapprove of our choices, but you can’t change the fact that she’s my mate in every way that matters.”
Without waiting for his response, I turn to Finley, cupping her face in my hands.“What do you say we get out of here and make this official?There’s a full moon tonight.”
