Chapter 15

Sam

I watched Megan through the back window of the cabin. The feel of her lips was imprinted on my brain. It obviously meant nothing at all to her, but it meant everything to me. I'd been half in love with her since she'd picked scrawny sixth grade me to be on her dodgeball team. I'd fallen even harder when she'd baked me cookies after I broke my pinky in the same dodgeball game. I thought maybe there was mutual attraction last night at the game. But once the wolf decided she was my mate, that was it. I physically ached to touch her. I didn't want to put a chaste little kiss on her lips. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, hold her close, and really show her what I was feeling. Which was probably never going to happen. Megan made it perfectly clear she wanted no part in being a werewolf—wanted no part of being with me. My toxins killed any spark that might have been there. Wolf whined inside me. More than I wanted Megan to be my mate, I wanted it to be her choice. I wanted to be her choice, not her regret and not her obligation.

I wasn't sure what Dad would think of all this from a legal standpoint. There were certain wolf customs and laws that he'd insist we follow. I was happy to do that. Megan wouldn't be. Then there were human legal ramifications. Dad was a lawyer and had kept the pack under the radar and away from any legal issues the whole time he'd been Alpha. It had come in handy to have a top-notch lawyer in the pack. I cracked my knuckles as I considered possible scenarios Dad might come up with.

I'd broken his trust last night. I hadn't meant to. And our already rocky relationship was feeling pretty glacial at the moment. I didn't want to disappoint my father. Quite the contrary. I wanted him to be proud of me. Wanted him to love me as his son and respect me as his Beta. Emotions were complicated things. And I had enough emotions swirling inside to drown me if I wasn't careful.

Megan waved her free arm around as she talked on the phone, her back to the cabin. She had listened and stayed far enough away that I couldn't catch what she was saying, but she was clearly giving Rachel an earful. I wished I hadn't told her to go so far. I was curious what Meg's take on all this was—what she would tell her best friend but not say to me. A big breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding escaped my lips in a forceful gust.

"Sam, why don't you come on back here to the table," Mr. Carmichael called. I took one more glance at Meg and came over to where the old man was sitting.

He patted the seat beside him, so I sat.

"Sam, I realize last night was entirely an accident, and that this isn't your fault. It was just one of those unfortunate incidents. You look like you need to hear that."

Heat washed over me. It wasn't an embarrassed heat, or the heat of shame, it was something different, but it made me feel clean. Absolved me of some of my guilt. I still felt guilty, but hearing those words from this man, Megan's guardian, smoothed over some of my insecurities.

"Thank you, sir. I don't suppose you'd mind telling my father that?" My mouth tugged down in a frown, remembering Dad's rage the night before.

"I'd be happy to. In fact, if we're all going to get through this peaceably, I think we all need to realize, Megan included, that this was an accident. It doesn't change the outcome, but it changes the perception of things." His gaze met mine. "I'm on your side in this as much as I'm on Megan's side."

"Unless you break Megan's heart," Rev put in with a half smile.

"Unless you break Megan's heart," Mr. Carmichael confirmed. "And then your fur and fangs will have nothing on this old man and his cane."

I laughed. A genuine laugh. That wasn't what I was expecting, and I knew I had made an unlikely ally. His face wrinkled up in a smile, his deep-set eyes twinkling.

We all glanced back when the door opened, and Meg came through.

"Is it…safe for Rachel to bring some stuff by for me today?"

Rev answered. "It should be safe enough. We'll all be here to help you through any shifts today. She'll want to be sure she comes in daylight though."

"I'll text her the details. Can we eat? I don't mean to be rude, but I'm starving!"

"Definitely!" Mr. Carmichael agreed.

The food was out and ready, buffet style. I handed Megan a paper plate.

"Wow. The smells kind of hit you right in the face, don't they?"

"It doesn't smell exactly like that to us," Rev explained. "We can still smell each individual component like you can, but it's not so, how did you say it? In your face."

That wrung a small smile from Megan as she put a scone and a sausage biscuit with a generous helping of fruit on her plate. Mr. Carmichael handed her a steaming coffee.

"I already put creamer and sugar in it for you," he told her.

"Mm. Just the right amount, as always," she said after a generous drink.