Page 257 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“You are both terrifying,” he said.

Sava patted his shoulder as she passed. “You’re learning.”

By the next morning, the island had decided to pretend it was functional. The wedding was officially canceled due to a security incident. Staff were compensated, threatened, comforted, or all three depending on what they had seen and how loudly they were reacting. Grant left first, flanked by two wolves in black suits.

He didn’t look at me.

That was wise.

Tessa watched him go from the front window, Henry pressed against her legs and Evan standing at a very respectful distance beside her.

“You okay?” I asked.

She looked at the boat pulling away from the dock.

“No.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into me.

“But I think I will be,” she said.

“Good.”

She glanced toward Evan and I tried not to smile.

She saw me trying. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought nice wolf again.”

“I did.”

She groaned.

From across the room, Aunt Linda said, “I think nice wolf is charming.”

Cormac, who had somehow ended up in the same room despite being under medical orders to sleep, said, “The phrase is growing on me.”

Sava snapped, “You should be unconscious.”

“Your bedside manner remains inspirational.”

Aunt Linda brought him tea and he accepted it.

The pack was doomed.

By the third day, I was well enough to sit outside under a blanket while Ian and Ronan argued quietly about Thorne succession, council consequences, and whether the island needed more guards.

I understood about half of it. The other half sounded like violent estate planning.

When Ronan said, “You cannot leave until Thorne is stabilized.”

Ian’s hand tightened on mine.

I looked at him. “Leave where?”

Ian’s face shifted.