Never before have I stood in front of my pack at a communal lunch, told them I had an important announcement to make, and it was actually a joke.
The fact that Dylan, my Beta, is asking me this proves just how comfortable my packmates feel with me.
“It’s not a joke, Dylan,” I respond.
There’s a heavy silence that settles upon the long tables in our canteen. People stop eating and stop drinking, and soon the place erupts into a symphony of anxious murmurs.
If I’m up on the podium, my shifters usually know not to speak.
Maybe they’re a littletoocomfortable.
I give them a few moments of grace, because hell, if I were in their positions, I’d probably be the same. Then, I tap my cup twice onto the wooden table in front of me, and they’re silent again.
“I know this comes as a shock to everyone. I understand how you must all be feeling, but my decision is final.”
I gaze around at my packmates, some of them actually look like they accept the idea of Tara coming to live with us, and others look like I’ve just lit their cabins on fire.
Dylan raises his hand.
“Permission to share my thoughts, Alpha?”
I nod. “Granted.”
“I respect your decisions as always, of course. But I don’t understand why you want tomarryher? Wouldn’t it be better to marry a shifter, and then, well, keep seeing her on the side?”
To this, there are some resonant groans, outraged gasps, and from Dylan’s wife a look that could kill.
I find the humor in it, leaning back against the wall behind me with my arms crossed.
“Dylan,” I laugh.
“What?”
His wife’s death stare has the power to quieten him and force him to sit down. Dylan stares begrudgingly at the floor.
Another shifter raises his hand.
“Yes,” I point.
“To mirror what Dylan said, although in another way, how come you want to get married all of a sudden? I thought you said that you were waiting for the perfect shifter? That you hadn’t found anyone worthy enough yet?”
So here comes my alibi.
It is true that I’ve often told them that I’ve been waiting for the perfect shifter to come along. I’m a traditional guy, and I’ve been waiting for a traditional woman to seamlessly integrate within our pack.
I’ve had plenty of options, plenty of opportunities, but no one was right. I’ve been picky, and so what? It’s not like I’ve even had much time to date.
Marriage hasn’t been a big concern, not for me anyway, and it’s been better that way—I’ve been more focused.
But as fate would have it, here I am, announcing my marriage with a human of all beings. I hate that I have to lie to them, but it’s for their own good.
“Yes,” I declare. “You’re right, I was waiting for the perfect shifter, and then Tara came along. I know it’s a shock, it’s a shock for me too—I never thought that I’d fall for a human, ever. But that’s how I know it’s real, the fact that I’m willing to do this.”
“Does this mean that one of us has to marry a witch?” Someone asks.
I shake my head. “This is why the timing is actually perfect. I wasn’t going to marry Tara yet; we were going to take it slow, and I was going to have you all meet her gradually so that you could decide what you thought. But now, with the looming pressure from the witches to form a marriage alliance to prove our ‘openness’, what better time? Me marrying a human proves just how open we are, no witch alliance needed.
“We’re just lucky I found a human who I love so much,” I add.