Shadow of the Wolf

The look he’d shot her as they got into the car said that Chris wouldn’t put it past the other man.

Frankly, neither would she. Daniel and Zachary had agreed to watch the church from the outside, one seated in his car, the other “reading” on a bench across from the steps.

Gareth was driving around the neighborhood, a crystal dangling from his windshield that Grammy had spelled. Used for divining over maps, she’d fixed it so the crystal would point to the greatest personal threat towards Chris. Gareth was supposedly following whichever way that crystal swayed, keeping watch for Cole. Grammy was in the back of the church on the groom’s side, both she and Christopher ready to act if Cole should try anything within the church itself. They’d agreed to repeat the pattern once they were at the reception. The only time they’d be truly vulnerable would be in transit to the reception. Chris would be driving Lana, the protections wrapped around the car the strongest they could manage, but Kelly and the rest of the wedding party would be vulnerable despite the sachets. She hadn’t had time to do a thorough protection spell on the limo itself. They just had to hope that they’d be able to keep up with it and stop anything that might try to harm the innocent mundanes riding inside.

It was all they could do in the short amount of time they had, and their best hope of catching Cole out in the open. He’d proven elusive to all of their other methods so far.

All enquiries over the last two days had turned up zilch. Until they could either neutralize the threat he represented or the king officially declared someone his heir, their lives would continue to be in danger.

Chris frowned, possibly picking up on her mood, possibly for some obscure wolf reason. She watched him for a moment longer, making sure it wasn’t Cole related.

Relieved when he shook his head slightly, she tuned back in time to hear Dennis reciting his vows. The bride and groom kissed, to the laughter and applause of their families. She took the arm of her escort and followed the newly married couple out of the church.

* * *

They made it to the reception without incident. It was a lavish affair, everything done in the colors of spring. Pale, multi-hued roses filled the tall vases to near overflowing, greenery draping down the sides to barely kiss the tops of the tables. Votive candles on each setting took the place of candelabra, lending a more casual feel to the otherwise sophisticated decor. White tablecloths, white plates and silver cane back chairs were set up around the head table. Lavender-tinted lighting added another small touch of color. It was feminine without being girly, cultured without being cold, and Chris found himself enchanted. He almost pulled out his PDA to make notes but worried that he’d get too caught up in planning his own reception to guard the current one.

Of course, he hoped Lana would pick a different dress than the one the current bride wore. While the poufy skirt and beaded top suited the pale blonde to a T, Lana’s dark looks and lush figure called for a more simple dress. He wondered if she’d let him go shopping with her to pick it out.

Of course, that would depend on whether or not she agreed to get married. He couldn’t plan a wedding with a reluctant bride, no matter how much he might wish to do so. He just hoped he’d be able to talk her into it. Marrying the woman he loved, putting that symbol on her finger that even a human could see and know that she was taken, was a dream he found himself indulging now in ways he’d never thought possible.

He wanted that final bond with her, wanted her name changed to his. Wanted the joint checking account, the mortgage, the two car garage. The children, the laughter, the fights, everything that would declare to the world that this was his mate, his wife, his family.

He watched her sway to the music, her escort keeping a respectful distance between their bodies. The lavender, high waist dress brought out the dark depths of her eyes, the material flowing around her legs. He caught a glimpse of her toes through her shoes, the nails painted a bright red.

“If you drool any more you’ll be panting.”

Chris tore his eyes away from Lana long enough to glare at Gareth. “What are you doing in here?”

“Eating. Nice spread. Remind me to kiss the bride later.” Gareth popped one of the canapes into his mouth. “Damn crystal hung straight down. It didn’t even move when I took corners. If he’s here then he’s blocking even that simple a divination.”

“Either that or he’s not a threat to me right now.”

Gareth paused, another canape halfway to his lips. “Well. Fuck.”

“Here.” He took a second crystal, this one made of chocolate quartz, and handed it to his brother. He’d asked Grammy to make it after Lana had gone to bed, tired from her own spellcasting. “Do another check. This one’s tuned to Lana.”

“On it.” Gareth left, but not before swiping one more canape off of Chris’s plate.

He turned his attention back towards Lana. She was laughing up at her escort, her head thrown back, her amazing breasts threatening to spill out of the top of her dress.

Chris was in front of the other man before he’d even realized he’d moved. “Mind if I cut in?”

The man backed away, a look of amusement on his face, his hands in the air. “She’s all yours. Later, Lana.”

Chris turned and pulled Lana into his arms, his eyes roaming to where he knew his shadow mark now rested on her neck. The knowledge that she’d finally acknowledged their mating raced through him, filling him with happiness beyond any he’d ever known.

He pulled Lana into his arms, much tighter than the other man had held her, and began dancing. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Not yet.” She cupped her ear and tilted her head to the side, her expression waiting.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

Her arm went around her neck. “Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“I wore the Armani just for you.”

Her stunned expression quickly turned to horrified laughter. “Oh no you didn’t.”

“What, you didn’t recognize it?”

“Chris!”

“I smell your skin every time I move.” She gulped, her cheeks heating. He placed a soft kiss on her neck, loving the way her head moved just enough to accommodate him.

“I might never have it cleaned again.”

“You are so bad.” She leaned back, her smile soft and sultry and just a tad indulgent.

It was a look that had his heart soaring. He loved her so much he could barely breathe. “But you like me that way.”

“Mmm. True.” She didn’t protest when his hand slid down her back to rest at the curve of her ass. “What am I going to do with you?”

Love me. Please love me. “What would you like to do with me?”

“Could I do anything I wanted?”

He blinked. “Anything is such a broad term.”

She giggled. “Could I … convince you to get a tattoo?”

One eyebrow rose. “A tattoo.”

Her head tilted. “Yup. A tattoo.”

“How many champagnes have you had?”

“Not that many. C’mon. Could I?”

“Like tattoos, do you?”

“Maybe,” she drawled, drawing her finger up and down his shoulder.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. If the thought of a tattoo on him brought that kind of a flush to her cheeks, he’d definitely have to get inked. “I suppose I could accommodate you. What would you like to see?”

“Wow. You gave in easily for a man with no ink on him.”

He waited for the answer to his question.

She threw her head back. “Fine. A witch would be nice. Maybe Wendy from Casper?”

No fucking way. “A witch, yes. Wendy, no.” No way was he walking around with a cartoon witch on his … anything. “If I get a witch tattooed on me, you bet your sweet ass it will be the real deal.” He already had an idea, something that would please them both and mark him unmistakably as hers.

She studied him thoughtfully. “Why do I get the feeling you might have something in mind already?”

“Because you’re a very smart woman who is beginning to know me too well?”

“Good answer.” Her expression turned serious. “How’s the search for Cole going?”