Page 247 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

Ian’s thumb brushed once over the edge of the mark, and the comfort that moved through me was warm enough that I forgot everyone else could see my face.

Tessa looked from me to Ian.

“Oh,” she said.

I blinked. “Oh, what?”

“Oh, that is very real.”

My cheeks heated. “Could you please have this revelation less publicly?”

“I have been traumatized,” Tessa said. “My filter is gone.”

Grant made a muffled sound behind both hands, still clutching his bleeding nose.

No one asked him if he was okay.

It was a beautiful family moment.

Sava finally snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Inside. Now.”

I opened my mouth.

Ian said, “Cassie.”

That was all. Just my name. Low, rough, threaded with the feeling I had been trying very hard not to look at too directly. Fear. Love. Guilt. Relief.

He was not ordering me, he was just asking me to live.

My argument died a small but dramatic death.

“Fine,” I said. “But I want everyone where I can see them.”

Ronan nodded once. “The east dining room. It has no windows into the public grounds and can be secured.”

My father lifted the champagne bottle. “Are we prisoners?”

“No,” Ronan said.

Cormac added, “Not if everyone behaves.”

Dad looked at him. “That is not comforting.”

“It was not meant to be.”

Aunt Linda smiled. “He is delightful.”

“Linda,” Mom said again.

We left the courtyard in pieces. Cormac had to be hauled up by two wolves because he pretended he could stand alone and then almost collapsed into a dead hedge. Sava threatened everyone within arm’s reach. Ian kept me tucked against his side, still wearing Ronan’s coat and nothing else, which was an image I was probably going to revisit later when I had more blood in my body.

Henry insisted on walking between me and Ian like a tiny chaperone. Every few steps, he looked up at Ian suspiciously.

Ian looked down at him. “I saved your human.”

Henry sneezed.

“He remains undecided,” Cormac said behind us.