Page 25 of The Forbidden Wolf

Father nodded. “Yes. But now I really must find and remind Maximo of this before the ceremony occurs. At the very least, that pup needs a refresher on his manners.”

And with that, Father strode away with his chest puffed out and his chin held at an imperious slant. I had to wonder if Kiana had lied about the gravity of his mystery illness also. He seemed perfectly fine now that we’d arrived, not the slightest bit spacey as he’d been in the limo. Perhaps he was only ever suffering from allergies, and that dramatic coughing fit had relieved some terrible sinus pressure.

“Would you like a drink?” Blaze asked.

“I’m not old enough,” I answered.

“Right.” An awkward chuckle rumbled from Blaze’s chest. “Well, I don’t think anybody here is checking IDs.”

I released a grudging laugh. Not a one of us had any legal identification. People who existed had to pay taxes and abide by other human laws. Wolves weren’t really keen on all that. But our logic had some gaps in it. The government knew we were more than a myth, and so the very act of not having an ID marked us for suspicion. While this had never been much of a problem in the past, it remained to be seen how this recent wave of anti-shifter sentiment would affect our ability to continue not existing.

“Then yes, please,” I said.

Blaze led me over to a short table draped with white cloth and lined with an army of slender crystal flutes. He handed one to me and then took one for himself, which looked as insubstantial as a cigar held between his meaty thumb and forefinger. He lifted it to his lips and took a manly swig that left tiny bubbles clinging to his mustache. I laughed in spite of myself yet again.

“Like this,” I said, taking a dainty sip. “It’s not whiskey.”

Blaze’s grizzled cheek twitch. “And what would you know of whiskey?”

I smiled enigmatically.

Blaze looked down at the floor. “I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind, but—”

“Don’t.” I closed my eyes. “Let’s just try to enjoy the party.”

He let out a gravelly sigh. “I don’t think I can unless you know that I—I am still very much in love with my pups’ mother. We were not fated, but that doesn’t mean it meant any less in the long run…”

“Blaze.” I held up a hand. “I’m not expecting—”

“I know. I know you’re probably not even wanting. I just wanted you to know that I’m not expecting anything. Not for myself, nor my pups. But I will fulfill all of my duties as your mate, as desired.” He threw back the flute and chugged all that remained. “That’s all I needed to say.”

“Thank you.” I threw mine back and managed half before choking. I swiped my mouth on my wrist. “I will, uh, circle back on that at a later date.”

Blaze nodded and helped himself to another champagne. I held my hand out for a second as I finished off the first. He obliged with a smirk, and this time we downed them all at once. We laughed, coughing and sputtering, and while I didn’t feel anything like a romantic spark, I did feel like maybe companionably we could make this work. I also felt like my brain was full of tiny rapidly popping bubbles though, so…

“Here’s the thing,” I said, reaching for my own third glass. “I want to stay in my own apartment for now. Forever? I don’t know. It’s just too soon for your pups. They’ll hate me, and then they might hate—” My cheeks tinged pink. “Well, the thing we’re circling back to that Father and Kiana are going to think ought to happen right away. It’s hard enough having one sibling who hates you. Five is a lot.”

“I agree,” he said. “If you change your mind after we’ve… circled back, then of course we’ll make room for you. If not, the arrangement still won’t be half as complicated as some of the things humans do.”

I took another long slurp to hide the smile playing at my lips. I’d been looking at this all wrong. Why would I want an arrogant, energetic male my own age who would expect me to share his bed every night and fill his home with pups when I could just close my eyes and pretend that Blaze was Kurt Russell circa 1993 every now and then in exchange for something like freedom?

With my own apartment, I could keep sneaking out to watch movies with my friends, and as a mated female, I would no longer be expected to engage in training sessions every weekday morning, so I could theoretically sneak out every night. Hell, I could probably get away with leaving the high-rise in broad daylight sometimes. And with the packs merged, I would no longer have to worry about getting caught in Manhattan. This was… perfect.

True, my friends were going to freak the fluff out when my barely adult ass showed up in the whelping way eventually, and it might become necessary to mention that I kinda sorta had what they would call a husband, but I’d cross that bridge when I got there as long as I got to keep crossing the Third Avenue Bridge every Friday and Saturday night.

“What about food?” Blaze gestured with his flute toward the servants moving through the cautiously mingling crowd with appetizers on silver platters.

“I enjoy it.”

Laughing, Blaze flagged down a servant who scurried over and offered us a selection of tiny chicken wings decorated with spirals of mystery sauce. Each wing sat atop a tiny jalapeno cushion and wore a tiny jalapeno hat, held together by a toothpick. For some reason, this totally cracked us up.

“Why?” Blaze wheezed as he cupped one of the delicate culinary art installations in his massive palm. “Where do I even start?”

I held mine up by the small end of the bone, gingerly sniffing the pale orange sauce. “I’m cool with pizza, by the way. For our, uh, thing. And maybe no one’s there. Maybe we just eat pizza and call it a day.”

Blaze scrunched his nose at the sauce. “I think your father will expect something a little less edible. To be fair.”

I snorted. “You know him so well.”

---