I head inside with my parents close behind me. The party has continued on as if nothing has happened. Music is blaring, lights are flashing, drinks are flowing. The crowd is dancing and laughing like they’re having the time of their lives. We’re barely over the threshold when Jasper appears.

  “There you are,” he says.

  “My parents are here.” I gesture to where Mom and Dad are standing, barely a foot inside the doorway, glancing around like kids in a candy store.

  “I see.” Jasper steps toward them, hand outstretched, ready for shaking. “Mr. and Mrs. Remus. I’m so glad you could make it.”

  Mom blushes beneath her foundation. “Thanks for the invite.”

  “Swell party,” Dad says and even he cringes at his use of the word swell. “That is…I mean…happy birthday!”

  “Yes happy birthday,” Mom echoes.

  “Thank you,” Jasper says, a polite nod of the head. “Please help yourselves to drinks and food. I hope you enjoy your night.”

  Jasper is in his element. He’s so polite and polished—the perfect host, modest and welcoming, and not overeffusive like I probably would be.

  “Come on,” I say to Mom and Dad. “Let’s get you a miniquiche and a cocktail.” I turn to Jasper. “Go mingle. I’ll get them settled in then come find you.”

  “Okay,” Jasper says, then leaning closer so only I can hear, adds, “is everything fine?”

  I push out a smile. “Perfect.”

  Doing my best to ignore the occasional sideways glance and the waves I receive from complete strangers who must recognize me—that’s new!—I lead my parents over to the bar. Dad orders a beer and Mom some unnaturally blue-colored cocktail. I shoot her an unconvinced look and she shrugs.

  “What? I never get to have cocktails. Let me live.”

  My eyes roll back in my head but I can’t help smiling. She’s living her best life and honestly I’m here for it.

  “Max! There you are.” Katie pushes her way through the crowd. “Mrs. Remus you look stunning!”

  Mom performs a little twirl, ending with a flourish of her hand. “Thank you, Katie.”

  Dad makes a strange coughing sound.

  “You too, Mr. Remus,” Katie says accommodatingly.

  “Well, thank you,” Dad says, bending at the waist in a little bow.

  “And you too, Katie,” Mom says. “That dress is gorgeous.”

  Katie is wearing a pastel-green dress that hugs the curves of her torso then flows in a straight line to the ground. She does look great.

  “Where are the twins?” I ask.

  “Can I speak with you?” Katie doesn’t wait for an answer before she grabs my elbow and pulls me away.

  “What’s up?” I say once we’re out of my parents’ earshot. Back at the bar they stand awkwardly, like they’ve forgotten how to behave in public, watching the party and sipping their drinks too quickly. “I probably shouldn’t leave them alone for too long.”

  “It’s Todd and Simon,” Katie says, suddenly distraught.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They…they’re dancing with other girls.”

  “Where? I haven’t seen them all evening.”

  “There’s more party upstairs, you haven’t been up yet?”

  “No, I haven’t made it that far.”

  “Well they’re up there and they’re…” Tears spring to her eyes.

  “Hey.” I take her by the shoulders and turn her so she’s facing away from the throng. “I’m sure it’s just dancing.”

  She crosses her arms with a huff and sticks out her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  “Why? Did—did something happen?”

  Before a tear can ruin her mascara Katie holds a finger up to her eyelid to wipe the errant betrayer away. “Todd told me he—he kissed some girl from his school.”

  “Oh.”

  “He said he thought he was allowed to because of the whole polyam thing.” Poor Katie. It seems her pups might need a little more training. “I told him that’s not how it works, that it’s not some free-for-all buffet, and he said I was being unreasonable.”

  “I see.”

  “And now they’re both up there dancing with different girls.”

  I glance at the stairs, imagining the scene happening on the second floor. “They’re still your mates, that has to count for something.”

  “Maybe.” Her anger turns to sulking.

  I wish I knew how to help but her situation is more complicated than I have the bandwidth to comprehend. “You probably just need to talk to them and set some boundaries, no?”

  She sniffs back her tears and shakes the pout from her face. “Ugh, you’re probably right. Would you come up with me?”

  Over at the bar my parents have found another couple to talk to and they look happily engaged, chatting away like they’re with old friends. Socializing is just like riding a bike, I guess. “Sure,” I say.

  On the second floor the party continues much the same, only a smaller bar is on the opposite side of the room, and tables have been pushed back against the exposed brick walls to make space for the crowd of dancing wolves. Glass doors lead onto a terrace with a view of the East River and Manhattan.

  “See?” Katie says, death-staring at her mates, who are both manhandling a couple of wolfgirls. “Come on.”

  Before I know what’s happening, Katie has taken me by the hand and led me into the middle of the dance floor. She wraps one arm around my neck and places her free hand on my waist and moves to the music, swaying her hips and spinning while I do my best to keep up with her. But I’m not much of a dancer, especially not when I know so many people are watching me, trying to get a sense of who Jasper’s mate is.

  Her plan seems to be working, however, because very slowly her mates start to notice us. A glance over a shoulder at first. Then Simon is spinning his partner so he can face Katie for a better look. She leans her back against my chest, moving against me, and I play along as best I can.

  Todd is the first to break away, abandoning his partner and coming to take Katie’s hand. Simon is quick to react—the second Todd moves on Katie he’s there as well. I quickly feel like the meat in a Max-and-Katie sandwich of which Todd and Simon are the bread, so I slip away, wondering how red in the face I am. Katie’s plan seems to have worked: her mates have forgotten all about the girls they were dancing with and instead have closed ranks on either side of her. It feels like a Band-Aid over a larger issue but I suppose it’ll do for now, and I’m glad I could be of service.

  I search for any sign of Jasper but don’t see him so decide to head back downstairs. The fuzz surrounding my brain has started to feel firmer, the storm clouds full and ready to burst. Strikes of lightning erupt, causing sharp pricks of pain. With an inhale I try my best to hoist my mental guards back in place.

  Back on the ground floor, I immediately run into Mom and Dad, who are dancing up a storm, looking like they’re having the time of their lives. They wave at me like a couple of teenagers as I approach, and I can’t help thinking it’s kind of adorable.

  “Have you seen Jasper?” I ask and they both shake their heads.

  “You tried upstairs?” Dad asks.

  “Yeah, I thought he’d be down here.”

  “I’m sure he’s somewhere,” Mom says, super helpful.

  Just then both my parents stop dancing and the smiles drop from their faces. Even though we’re inside I feel as if a cloud has just blocked out the sun, and the noise in my head is overcome by one singular presence. I turn and come face-to-chest with Jericho.

  “Alpha,” I say, bowing my head slightly.

  “Hello, Max.” Jericho shifts his gaze to behind me. “These must be your parents.”

  I spin back to find my parents standing completely still, arms pressed at their sides. They’re freaking.

  “Alpha, sir, your honor,” Dad stammers and bows. “It’s such a pleasure.” He nudges Mom, who has yet to bow and is instead staring wide-eyed up at the alpha, gently in the ribs and she immediately curtsies.

  “Yes,” Mom says to the ground. “We’re delighted to be invited.”

  “Please,” Jericho booms, his voice cutting through the music. “There is no need for such formalities.”

  Mom and Dad return to their upright positions and Jericho slaps a hand on my shoulder, knocking the wind out of me.

  “After all,” he continues, “we’re family now.”

  “So gracious,” Mom says in awe, then slaps Dad’s chest with the back of her hand. “Isn’t he gracious?”

  “Uh, yes, very,” Dad says, about as bemused as I am at how Mom is staring at the alpha.

  “I must apologize for the vandalism done to your property,” Jericho says, unbothered, clearly used to being stared at.

  “It needed a new paint job anyway,” Mom says, giggling.

  “We are working on finding the culprit and mending the cracks within our pack that would allow such distasteful actions to occur.” Jericho’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “Max will be very important to the future of the pack. I’m glad he has parents like you to guide him. We’re all very lucky.”

  “Well, we’re very proud,” Mom says. “And Jasper seems like a lovely boy.”

  “Yes,” Dad agrees. “A little high-strung maybe.”

  This time it’s Mom who elbows Dad in the ribs, only she’s not as gentle.

  “Oof, I mean—that is to say”—Dad stumbles over his words—“he takes his role very seriously.”

  Jericho waits a beat, nodding ever so subtly. “He does. Now my daughter is around here somewhere. If you’ll excuse me I need to make sure she hasn’t gotten to the cake before it’s been cut.”

  “Yes of course,” Mom says, almost curtsying again but stopping herself and instead shooting the alpha her most winning smile.

  Once Jericho is gone they both breathe a huge sigh of relief.

  “He’s very impressive,” Mom says, fanning herself, while Dad rubs the back of his neck the same way I do. Guess that’s where that comes from.

  “He cuts quite the figure,” Dad says. Is he a little red in the face as well?

  Now that that minute of torture is done I really need to find Jasper. “Are you guys fine if I go?”

  They nod and encourage me to enjoy the party. “We’re fine,” Mom says, in a way that makes me think I’m the one cramping their style. Okay you two, have fun, don’t get into too much trouble.

  As I search the party for Jasper the noise presses in harder and more aggressively than before. My head swims and my legs are unsteady. I climb the stairs, assuming Jasper must have slipped onto the next floor while I was talking with my folks. By the time I reach the top I’m out of breath and dizzy. I grit my teeth and swallow back a wave of nausea. Then my eye catches on a familiar face—a long, slender nose, a wide forehead, an impressive swoop of formerly blond hair now turned gray—and the pain hits me like an ice pick.

  Walter Bridgers is standing across the room talking to Stefan and Maria Lykos, one hand tucked into the pocket of his suit trousers, the other clasped between two buttons of his waistcoat. He has a snide upturn in the corners of his mouth, a smug, entitled grin that looks too much like his son’s.

  Why is he here? I assumed after what Clayton did his whole family would have been demoted or excommunicated.

  Why is the father of my attacker at Jasper’s birthday party?

  LET THEM EAT CAKE

  Walter Bridgers throws his head back and laughs. At least someone is enjoying the party.

  My hands clench into fists and for a moment I think I’m going to storm across the dance floor, interrupt his conversation, and tell the smarmy douche exactly what I think, but just then the doors to the patio slide open and Tobias Volk enters the room.

  “Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlewolves,” he proclaims, his handlebar mustache wriggling like a caterpillar and his nasal voice piercing through the hubbub. “If you would please join me outside, we would like to celebrate the birth of our future alpha with you.”

  With a grand gesture he steps aside and ushers people outside. The crowd begins to flood through the doors. Already people are streaming up the stairs.

  “Max!” Jodie is among the stream of wolves ascending from the ground floor, her two friends, also in dresses that would fit in at a human quinceañera, on either side of her. “What are doing just standing there?”

  “I—uh—”

  “Come on, they’re cutting the cake.” Confidently, she slips her hand into mine and together we make our way outside.

  Jodie pulls me through the crowd, unbashful about simply moving people out of her way, and before I know it we’ve emerged through the front line, met by a three-tiered cake, with royal-blue icing and gold details, so tall it might as well be a wedding cake. Jasper and Jericho are already there, framing the towering confection.

  Jasper smiles apologetically.

  “Hey,” I say, moving to stand next to him, while Jodie moves to stand with her father, who welcomes her in with a hand on her arm.

  “Hi,” Jasper says. “Sorry about all this, it’ll be over quickly.”

  “It’s fine.”

  I glance up for the first time at the wall of faces looking back at me. Katie is there, looking less than happy, with her arms crossed and her mates on either side of her looking like they’ve been going at it on the dance floor, their shirts untucked, their top buttons undone, Simon’s tie askew. My parents shuffle sideways until they come into view, Mom raising her eyebrows at me and Dad giving me a proud little wave. Olivia is off to the side looking unimpressed. The Lykoses are smiling like they’re celebrating their own child’s birthday, and a step behind them is Walter. His head is lowered, casting a shadow over his eyes, which are leveled squarely at me. I clear my throat and look away as Jericho clears his throat.

  “Tonight we are here to celebrate the birth of my son,” Jericho booms. “And while each year is an auspicious occasion, tonight is an especially important milestone in Jasper’s life. For the first time Jasper’s mate is with us to join the celebration.”

  Excuse me?

  Every eye turns to me, and the noise of their thoughts is a freight train coming at me. I squint, placing one foot slightly behind the other to brace myself against the impact.

  “Maximilian is a courageous and determined young man. His spirit and vitality will be a welcome addition to the leadership of this pack.” Jasper slides an arm behind my back, maybe to show how proud he is as well, or maybe because he can sense my urgent need to retreat and is holding me in place. “So tonight let’s raise a glass to Jasper and his new mate. A welcome addition to my family!”

  The crowd before me lift their drinks—everyone except Walter—and hold them there as Jericho reaches his crescendo. “Happy birthday, Jasper. Here’s to you and your mate!”

  A cry of “Cheers!” erupts and I take the opportunity to wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead. In the third row Mom is wiping away a tear and Dad’s eyes have gone all red and sore looking. Olivia tips her glass in my direction with a raised brow. Katie applauds wholeheartedly, like she’s trying to prove a point.

  “And now,” Tobias says, slipping through a gap in the front row, “cake!”

  Jasper takes up a large knife and slices into the mammoth tower. The crowd applauds and a pair of servers emerge with plates. Jasper hands off the knife and they go to work carving up the frosted beast.

  When the mass of wolves finally disperses I inhale like I’ve been holding my breath for hours and let my torso fall forward.

  “Max?” Jasper rubs my back and leans closer so I can see him.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “It was just like all the thoughts were concentrated for a moment.”

  “You need to sit.” Jasper is looking around for a chair, but I have something more pressing to address.

  “Why is Walter here?” I ask.

  Jasper exhales, pouting like a model, and rubs his eyes. “I wish he wasn’t.”

  “So? It’s your party. Don’t you get to choose who’s invited?”

  “It doesn’t really work like that. This”—he swings his hand in a semicircle toward the party—“is more for the pack than for me.”

  “I don’t understand. After what his son did, why does Walter still have a seat at the table?”

  Jasper takes my elbow and leads me a little farther toward the railing.

  “Walter holds the keys to the Elite Pack’s treasury. He controls the purse strings. That makes him incredibly influential. If my father has any hope of bringing the pack back together he needs Walter’s support. As much as I wish his whole family were sent to live with the rogues, it’s not an option. He has too much power.”

  I scoff and look out across the water at Manhattan, at the shimmering towers lit up against the increasingly dark sky, twinkling like jewels. “I wouldn’t wish that upon the rogues.”

  A tiny growl rolls in Jasper’s throat. “Rogues are still rogues.”

  “You still believe that? After what we’ve seen? The people we’ve met?”

  “Rogues are still the ones who kidnapped Aisha, who invaded my father’s house, who…”

  Jasper trails off, his eyes drifting to the floor, but I know what he was going to say.

  Who murdered my mother.

  I soften. Tonight has already been too much without getting into a debate about whether or not rogues are good or bad or all the same even. I’m tired and, judging by the blank expression on Jasper’s face, so is he. All that schmoozing really takes it out of a wolf.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I get it. It’s not ideal, but I get it.” I slip my hand into Jasper’s and smile. “So, are you having a good birthday?”

  He glances up, a smirk blooming in the corner of his lips. “It’s okay.” He steps closer, taking my other hand. “It could be better?” His lips hover less than an inch from mine.

  “Oh yeah, what would make it better?”

  “This.” He kisses me and all the noise in the world falls away. For a moment, as our lips connect and we can taste each other, it’s like there’s no one else here, my mind is clear. This is all that matters.

 

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