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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Two months later

Havana felt her brow crease. “So, her problem with me is simply that I’m a devil shifter?” she asked, speaking over the loud music.

“It’s not really a case of shifter-breed prejudice,” said Jaime, the Phoenix Pack’s Beta female. “Greta’s an equal opportunist when it comes to hating people—she detests most of the population pretty much equally.”

“Ah.” The old woman had been shooting death glares at Havana all evening, and she was getting on her inner devil’s last nerve. “She seems to get along well with Ingrid, though.”

“Greta thinks pallas cats are much like her,” began Dante, Jaime’s mate, “so she has a lot more tolerance for them.”

The woman sounded like a complete basket case to Havana, but whatever. She sipped from her neon-colored cocktail. As it was tradition for the pride to hold celebratory events at the Tavern, everyone had gathered there for the afterparty of her and Tate’s mating ceremony.

Beneath the blasting music was the sounds of laughing, talking, bottles clinking, and dancers cheering. She and Tate were “doing the rounds,” speaking with various guests and thanking them for coming—hence why they were currently talking with the Phoenix Pack Betas and two of the pack’s wolves, Trick and Frankie.

Looking at Havana, Jaime tilted her head. “You don’t give off the ‘I’m an Alpha, fear my wrath’ vibe, but my wolf can sense how strong your animal is. My beast is stuck between respecting that strength and being a little unnerved by it.”

“From what I’ve observed,” began Tate, curling his arm around Havana’s waist, “her devil seems to have that effect on a lot of people’s inner animals.”

Havana felt her lips twitch. “Including yours?”

“My cat’s not unnerved by your strength,” said Tate. “He finds it a turn-on.”

She lifted one shoulder. “I can live with that.”

Dante took a swig from his beer bottle. “I’ll bet you’re both relieved that the whole Gideon business is behind you.”

“Very much so,” said Havana. Especially since the loners who were sold in past auctions had all been returned home.

“It seemed to take forever to track him down,” Tate grumbled.

Adjusting the position of the little boy balanced on his hip, Trick said, “Yeah, but you played it right—you didn’t waste time or resources on guesses, you didn’t let your emotions get in the way. You remained careful and patient during the hunt, and it paid off. As they often say, slow and steady wins the race.”

Frankie’s brows drew together. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen a slow Olympic runner win a race.”

Trick’s eyelid twitched. “Oh my God, Frankie, it’s just a—”

“Turn of phrase, yada, yada,” the she-wolf finished, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been over this; proverbs are plain dumb.”

“Dumb,” echoed their son, who then squeezed his father’s nose hard with an impish chuckle.

Noticing his aunt trying to get his attention, Tate gently squeezed Havana’s hip. “Valentina’s waving us over.” He turned to the Phoenix wolves. “I appreciate you all coming.”

Jaime smiled. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” Havana told them.

Leading his mate toward the corner table where Valentina, James, Mila, and Dominic were gathered, Tate was careful to stop Havana from being jostled as they shrugged through the tight crowds.

Valentina gave them air kisses and pretty much ordered them to sit. Exchanging hellos with the other shifters at the table, Tate and Havana took the two empty seats.

“Having a good night so far?” asked James.

“Oh, yeah,” said Havana. “Pallas cats are nothing if not entertaining.”

James smiled. “True enough. I’ve noticed that you seem to get along well with Vinnie, Luke, Elle, and Damian.”

“I do,” she said. “I mean, what’s not to like about them?”

Valentina huffed. “Do not get me started on Vinnie. The man is useless. Too weak to be pallas cat. You know I despise weakness. It is good that Tate took over our pride.”

Tate felt his lips twitch, and he noticed James roll his eyes. Vinnie was anything but weak. Still, there’d be no convincing Valentina differently, so no one even tried anymore.

James pointed at Havana. “Don’t take for granted that you’ve blended well into Tate’s family. I can’t boast the same. Valentina’s dysfunctional relatives will never accept me.” He didn’t sound too bothered by that, though.

Valentina rounded on him. “Perhaps if you did not call my mother ‘Skeletor’—”

“It’s just a pet name,” said James.

“—and my father her ‘man-slave’—”

“That’s just a statement of fact.”

“—they would be inclined to accept you. And my family is not dysfunctional.”

“You think it’s normal that your mother once gagged and bound your father to the bed in their spare room because she ‘wanted a little peace and quiet’?”

“It was just role play. She freed him after two days.”

“Oh, well, then it’s okay.”

Struggling to hold in a laugh, Dominic smiled at Havana and Tate. “You two look so loved up I’d find it nauseating if I wasn’t the same with my mate.” He looked at Havana, adding, “Mila was my first, you know. She took my virginity.” Everyone snorted, but Dominic ignored them. “She wasn’t so keen on having me at first, but who can resist an offer of ten solid inches of warmth, love, and understanding?”

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