Two Weddings (and One Near Funeral)

T-4 Days

“I hate this.” Alec’s backyard was overflowing with important wolves from around the country, and instinct had just about decided that climbing to the roof was the best way to hide—or get into position to pounce. “God, Andrew. I really, really hate this.”

“You’re not the only one.” He finished his beer. “So do half of the rest of them. Oh yeah, and me.”

“I figured.” Mackenzie picked at the label on her own beer, uninterested in drinking it. “Kat’s worried about you. This is a lot to deal with, all at once.”

He didn’t seem particularly bothered, aside from a general lack of enjoyment. “This? It’s nothing.”

“Really?” It was hard to believe, when the assembled wolves made her skin crawl. Then again, he was a council member now. Dominant over the rest of them—and they knew it, if the way they seemed to skirt around him was any indication. “I guess it’s different because I’m not one of you.”

“Maybe.” He flashed an insouciant grin. “Or maybe because you’re not me.”

Mackenzie laughed and swung her elbow toward his side. “Great. You’re as pigheaded as Alec already.”

“I’m supposed to be, right?” He reached for another crawfish and cracked it in half. “That’s the party line, anyway.”

“Screw the party line, Andrew. Be you. I like you better than Alec.”

“Be me.” He shook his head. “That’s easier said than done, Mac. Who am I?”

A question she’d asked herself plenty of times as she’d learned how to be a woman and a shapeshifter. “You’re an architect. You’re a witty bastard. You’re a dork. You’re a badass. You lose some of the old stuff and pick up some new crap, but most of it’s all the same.”

He remained silent through three more crawfish, then grinned again. “You think I’m a witty bastard? Yeah, I guess I am.”

Mackenzie laughed loudly enough to draw the attention of several wolves on the opposite end of the folding table. Three empty chairs sat between them and her, as if they’d needed the buffer of space to avoid being too close to a cougar and a turned wolf. “Yeah, Andrew. You’re funny and you know it. Who cares what the rest of them think?”

“I don’t,” he said seriously. “Which probably makes me a poor choice for council member.”

“Or a perfect choice, especially if things need changing.”

Andrew took a long look around. “I’m not sure there’s anything we need more.”

No, there wasn’t. She couldn’t even see Alec and Carmen through the crowd, but they were probably still stuck at the front of the lawn, smiles fixed to their faces as wolves from all over the country paraded before them like supplicants in a medieval court. It was absurd. Outdated. Stifling.

It had to change. “You can do it, Andrew. And we’ll be here too. Me and Jackson and Zola and Walker and everyone else, we’ll help. It doesn’t have to be just wolves anymore.”

He tossed an empty shell on the table. “Yeah? Tell that to the rest of these guys.”