Chapter 130
Chapter 130
Fiona’s POV
The backyard of the pack house looked nothing like itself by mid afternoon.
What had been a wide open stretch of grass that morning was now lined with round tables draped in soft white linen, clusters of pale pink and sage green balloons anchored at every corner, and a long gift table running along the back fence that Cicilia had somehow managed to make look like something out of a magazine. I had to admit, when that woman put her mind to something, she delivered.
I stood off to the side with the now crumpled vendor list in my hand, mentally ticking off the last few confirmations as the florist arranged the centerpieces on the nearest table. Everything was on schedule. Everything was in place. And yet I had spent the better part of the afternoon doing all of it with one eye on the back gate waiting for Blake to walk through it.
He hadn’t yet.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Marcus said from beside me, appearing out of nowhere the way he always did.
I didn’t look at him. “What thing?”
“The thing where you stare at the gate and pretend you’re not staring at the gate.”
I folded the vendor list and tucked it into my back pocket. “I’m just checking on the setup.”
“The setup is behind you,” he said.
I turned around and faced the backyard fully, crossing my arms. “Better?”
He gave me a flat look. “He’ll be back, Fiona. He said before noon and it’s only just past one so technically he’s only a little late.”
“He said before noon, Marcus.”
“He also once told Sara he’d be at her birthday dinner by seven and showed up at nine with a valid excuse, so.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Cut him some slack.”
I let out a slow breath and forced myself to focus on the backyard in front of me. The decorations were beautiful, the food tables were nearly finished being dressed, and through the open back door I could hear Linda directing people inside with the cheerful authority of someone who had been doing this her entire life. Sara was sitting in one of the cushioned chairs we had specifically positioned in the shade for her, supposedly overseeing the balloon arrangements but mostly just eating the strawberries that had been set out for the dessert table. I had already redirected her twice. I had given up after the third time.
“Luna.” One of the younger pack members appeared at my elbow with a slightly panicked expression. “The catering delivery is at the front door and they’re asking for you to sign off.”
“I’ll be right there.” I cast one more glance at the back gate before following her inside.
The caterers took longer than expected. By the time I had signed off on everything, directed where each tray needed to go, and managed a small crisis involving a missing order of sparkling cider that turned out to be sitting on the wrong table the entire time, another twenty minutes had passed.
I made my way back through the house and was almost at the back door when I heard the front door open. I stopped.
Then I heard his voice.
I turned around and made my way back through the hallway. Blake was in the entryway, his jacket gone and his jaw set in the tight way it got when he was working through something in his head. Anthonio was behind him, equally quiet, and there was a third person with them that made me stop walking entirely.
I didn’t recognise him.
He was tall, older than Blake by at least a decade, with a broad build and close cropped gray at his temples. He carried himself with the kind of stillness that I had come to recognise in wolves of high rank. Calm on the surface in a way that suggested the opposite underneath.
Blake looked up and found me in the hallway. Something shifted in his expression, not quite relief but close to it.
“Fiona,” he said, closing the distance between us. His hand found the small of my back the second he reached me and I could feel the tension he was carrying in his body even through that small point of contact. He lowered his voice. “I need you to stay close to the pack house today. Don’t go past the back fence and don’t go anywhere without Marcus.”
I looked up at him. “Blake, what is going on?”
His eyes moved briefly to the man standing behind him before coming back to me. “I’ll explain everything tonight. I just need you to trust me right now.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I keep meaning it.”
I held his gaze for a long moment. There were at least twelve questions lined up behind my teeth and he knew it because his expression shifted into something patient and steady while he waited to see which one I was going to lead with. I chose none of them. Instead I dropped my voice low enough that only he could hear me.
“Is it the scent from last night?”
His jaw tightened. Just barely. Just enough.
“Tonight,” he said again. Firm and quiet. “I promise.”
I searched his face for another second before nodding. He pressed a kiss to my temple and I let him, even though every instinct I had was telling me to plant my feet and demand answers right now. But I had learned enough about this pack, about him, to know that pushing Blake in front of others rarely ended with me getting what I wanted. Tonight would come and when it did, I was going to hold him to that promise.
I turned and made my way back through the house toward the backyard where the sound of arriving guests was beginning to fill the air.
Whatever was happening, it was going to have to wait until after Sara’s baby shower. And judging by the expression on Blake’s face, I had a feeling that whatever it was, waiting was not going to make it any smaller.