"No more secrets," he agreed.
I turned to Mary. Her gaze was on my boobs. “You’re leaking…” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. You’re leaking.”
“You have a nephew.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “He’s here.”
“No. He’s in an orphanage.”
She chuckled. “Still sarcastic. Let me meet him.”
As we turned back toward the main house, Mary fell into step beside me. Ivan draped the fallen blanket over her shoulders without comment. Gregor and Artem walked behind us.
The path wound through the dark, the house rising ahead of us in gold-lit windows. My alphas surrounded me, and my sister was beside me, and for the first time in years, fear wasn't the loudest thing in my head.
Hope was.
"What kind of dress?" Mary asked quietly.
"Sorry?"
"For the wedding. What kind of dress are you going to wear?"
I considered it. "The kind that says 'I am not to be fucked with.'"
"Good choice."
"Thank you. I've been thinking about it for approximately forty seconds."
Behind us, Artem made a sound that was definitely a laugh this time.
15
Gregor
A week later, wewere at thirty thousand feet and I was functioning as a heated mattress pad for a Yorkshire terrier who had decided, approximately eight days ago, that I belonged to him. And right now he made more noise than the private jet we were in.
I listened as Mary stated her intention to "experience Vegas properly," which I believed, because the girl had the survival instincts of a lit match in a fireworks factory and approximately the same understanding of consequence.
“You’re not going clubbing by yourself,” Maeve stated, holding Mac’s head against her breast.
Two sets of documents were prepared. One with Maeve and one with Mary - just in case. The council were expecting to see Mary’s name on the document, so we were treading carefully.
The chapel was rented for the day. The officiant had been vetted, paid, and briefed on what would happen if he sold the story. It wasn’t pretty but Maeve didn’t hear it.
The hotel floor was secured. The council would receive photographs of Mary McCarthy in a white dress next to Artem Petrov, and twelve old men who believed women were signatures with hair would be satisfied.
Maeve would marry Artem legally because she had decided to. This meant all opposition was now decorative.
And I, Gregor, had been placed in charge of nappies and one tiny dog.
This was not in my training.
Mac finished nursing. Maeve took him to Ivan and came and sat beside me. “Are you okay with me marrying Artem?”
“We’re pack. You marry Artem, you marry our pack. The ring isn’t important, neither is the piece of paper. I’m only interested in what your heart says.”
She swallowed. “That’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”
