Page 72 of Black Moon

And that was precisely what I’d been saying all along. But also, it was something I refused to be ashamed of. “Yeah,” I agreed. “She does fight for me. All of us, really. If the pack wants me as alpha, Claudia’s my second.”

Claudia and Colt both turned to stare at me in shock, but Birch smirked, like he’d known all along. And, well, I guess it was obvious. Claudia was everything I wasn’t. Not that I was incapable of fighting when forced to, but Claudia was terrifying in a way I wouldn’t want to be.

“An omega second?” Jack asked. He didn’t sound offended or disgusted, more surprised. Maybe even a little thoughtful.

I shrugged. “You wanted change, and you weren’t wrong. Omegas have been given the least say in packs for too damn long, and look where it’s landed us.”

He glanced over at Colt. “They’re saying you’re here to write about our omegas. That you didn’t come for Skip.”

Colt rolled his eyes so hard, it looked like it hurt. “I’d been trying to get an interview with a pack like yours for months. Skip agreed to give me one. I did not come here for him, just because of him. And then I got here, and found out the Grove pack is more than just a pack that’s got more healthy omegas than most.”

“Skip was trying to bring him in to replace my brother,” Shiloh said, a growl sneaking into her voice, as she slammed a tray of food onto the table in front of us. It looked like a pile of every fried item ever invented, from potatoes to pickles, and I both wanted to eat it, and wanted to cringe at the thought of it. Next to me, Shiloh put her hands on her hips and glared at Jack. “Fortunately for all of us, Colt’s better than Skip, and he saved Brook himself.”

“Heard that,” Greta Hagen, one of the sisters who owned the B and B, said from one of the booths in the back, where she sat, drinking a beer and knitting a sweater. It was burgundy, and it looked both soft, and my size.

What? I was not eyeing it up.

She winked at me and nodded, then went back to her knitting as she spoke again. “Heck of a thing, putting your safety on the line for a pack you barely know. It was either very brave or very foolish.”

“It could be both,” Zeke added, and she gave a flirty little giggle, waving her hand in his direction. He winked back.

That was when I realized we were in the middle of the political thing I’d been dreading all week, and I felt surprisingly not slimy. I turned to the giant pile of food on the table. “Anyone want some of this? No, it’s not a bribe to vote for me. Skip would win that competition hands down, with a mother who can cook like Wanda.”

A laugh went through the room, and people drifted in our direction, stopping to chat or ask questions, and it was just like every Friday night I’d spent at the bar. I just wasn’t a shameful not-quite-secret anymore. I was Doc Grove, the guy with the advice and fried food.

Even Jack got out of his chair and came over. “She’d be a decent second, I guess,” was all he said before snatching an onion ring and heading back to his own food.

Claudia was unusually quiet, so I leaned into her. “I didn’t ask. I’m sorry. If you don’t want—”

She leaned in and hugged me. Like it had cost me anything to name her. Like I hadn’t suggested her husband first. Yes, he was my childhood friend and she was a newer addition to the pack, but truth told, she was a better choice.

“Don’t you dare try to take it back,” she whispered. “I licked it, and it’s mine now.”

I burst into laughter. Only Claudia could make it both an emotional moment and a joke. How had I ever considered anyone else?

38

Colt

Once things got going at The Cider House, it was obvious that Linden was the right choice for the Grove pack. People wandered up, asked him questions—checking in after Brook, or what he thought about anything from the high-school football team’s chances to the best thing to do for their dry knuckles that fall.

It was sweet, and Linden didn’t need the slightest push to fall into it. He wanted to help people, and they respected him enough to listen. It was a match made in werewolf heaven. He was doing what came naturally to him, and it was perfect.

More than perfect, because it left me free to go get us another round and save Shiloh the trip.

I pushed against the bar, letting the wood dig into my stomach as I leaned over toward her, grinning.

“He’s good, right?”

Her smile was still a little brittle, but I couldn’t blame her. The Morgans had more reason than most to care about the next pack alpha. After almost losing Brook, they’d want someone who could defend the pack.

And my father would’ve tried to convince them that person was a warrior. Smart, that they knew instinctively that wasn’t true.

“He’s great,” she said. “Always been great, since we were kids. Brook was close to his brother, but I always kind of wished—”

Shiloh looked longingly at Linden, and I didn’t think it was on her own account. It was clear enough that she adored Talin, and vice versa.

No, she wished that Brook had wound up with the sweeter Grove brother—the one who stayed.

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