“That was low, even for you,” she said grumpily as she licked up a drip of chocolate truffle ice cream.
Mason shrugged. “You’re just trying to delay the inevitable. Besides, I’m proud to call you my mate.”
Lucy blushed furiously and then tried to change the topic. “She sure was happy to hear the news. What a hugger!”
“You have no idea what an honor she just bestowed on you, fair maiden. I didn’t even know she could smile before today. The woman didn’t even tear up at her oldest son’s wedding—and he was the favorite!”
“Well, I just hope she can keep her mouth shut.”
Mason leaned back, giving her a satisfied smirk. “Oh, Agnes isn’t known for her discretion. In fact, she has quite a reputation as a world-class gossip.”
“What!”
“Yup. By nightfall, everyone in the pack should know you’re my mate.”
“B-but why?” Lucy stuttered.
“Eh, it’s easier than telling everyone individually.”
“You sneaky son of a—”
“Is that any way to talk to your mate?” He gave her a cocky little wink.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “You can’t know for sure I’m your… you know.”
“Mate.”
“Whatever. You can’t be certain.”
“Of course, I can. Wolves mate for life. You’re still transforming, which is why you still have doubts. Once you’ve fully changed, you’ll understand that you’re mine forever. You just don’t know it yet.”
Lucy’s expression changed, softened into sadness. “Nothing is forever, Mason. One day you can be living your life, happy as a clam, and the next… it’s over.”
Mason didn’t care for her fatalistic tone. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
She stared off across the park, lost in her thoughts, her past. “I learned the truth a long time ago.”
“What truth? When?”
“The day my parents died.”
Mason remained quiet, letting her choose how much to share. He wouldn’t pressure her. As it turned out, he didn’t need to. With a deep breath, she launched into her story.
Chapter Fifteen
“Hurry up, Lucy Goosey!”
Lucy rolled her eyes, sighed dramatically, and jammed a bookmark into the paperback she was currently obsessed with. It was artistic and darkly romantic and full of angst, just like her. The stupid camping trip her parents insisted on taking was seriously messing with her reading time.
“It’s the last time we can go camping as a family until next summer,” her mother had wheedled over the previous week until Lucy had agreed.
God, she couldn’t wait to go to college and finally be free!
Stuffing her book into her backpack, she glanced around the room to see what she was forgetting. Her phone sat on her desk, and despite her parents’ sacred rule forbidding electronic devices on their camping trips, Lucy grabbed it anyway. As of last month, she was officially an adult and they couldn’t say boo about it.
“Besides, they should be grateful I’m going at all,” she muttered to herself as she muted the ringer and tucked it into the pack’s front pocket next to her pepper spray keyring.
“Luce!” her dad shouted. “Get a move on!”
“Coming!” she shouted back. “Jeez!”
Three epically boring hours later, her folks set up camp while Lucy sulked on a nearby stump. Dad had popped their old tent up in seconds flat, but he seemed to be having trouble with the new one they’d bought on the way out of town. Lucy had insisted she was too old to sleep with her parents in a pup tent and said she’d just sleep under the stars. Naturally, her overprotective mother wouldn’t hear of it. Too dangerous.
Lucy had rolled her eyes and stared out the car window. Didn’t they realize she could take care of herself? Besides, the wildest animal they’d ever seen on one of their trips was a raccoon who tried to pry open their ice chest once. And let’s get real, what kind of protection did a thin layer of nylon offer against anything that really wanted to eat her? But she’d played along and picked a tent the color of blood. It reminded her of her book.
“Ta da!” her father cried, grinning from ear to ear and waving his arms around like a magician who’d just pulled a bunny out of hat.
Her mother clapped and cheered over his minor accomplishment and then turned back to the fire she was trying to start. “Failing” would have been a better word, but Lucy kept her snarky lips clamped shut. She loved her parents—really!—they were just so freaking clueless! They had absolutely no concept of how hard it was to be a teenager, what kind of pressures were heaped on Lucy’s shoulders. Maybe one day they’d grow up and realize that the world wasn’t all butterflies and unicorns, although she had a sneaking suspicion that their annoying optimism would never fade.
“Congratulations,” Lucy muttered, rolling her eyes again as she threw her pack over her shoulder and crawled into the blood red tent.
With one deft movement, she zipped it shut behind her. Yanking her book from her pack, she lay back on a thin foam pad, using her pack as a pillow, and escaped from her boring, bourgeois life. Before the story had fully captured her attention, she heard her parents murmuring quietly, and she knew they were talking about her “bad attitude” again, but she didn’t care.
Really!
The next thing Lucy knew, she woke up to the sound of twigs cracking nearby. She could barely see her hand in front of her face it was so dark. She must have fallen asleep reading, and since the sun didn’t set till almost nine in her part of the world, she guessed it had to be closer to ten.
Righteous indignation flared inside her. Her parents hadn’t even bothered to wake her for dinner! And they knew how much she enjoyed her mother’s camp stew. Jerks! She ignored the twinge of guilt over acting like such a brat earlier. They should have at least asked if she was hungry. The fire still crackled quietly, but she’d been camping enough times to know it had burned down very low, probably almost to embers.
Maybe her mother had saved some food for her anyway. Lucy reached for the zipper, when she heard twigs cracking again and paused. If her dad was taking a leak, she certainly didn’t want to accidentally see that, so she waited until he went back into their tent. But he didn’t.
Or it didn’t.
Whatever was prowling through their campsite didn’t sound human. First of all, she could have sworn she heard four feet shuffling along instead of two. Plus, her father didn’t huff and snuffle like a dog sniffing someone’s crotch. Or growl.
Goosebumps spread across Lucy’s arms and she froze in place, terrified to even blink. She had no idea what was out there, but the dim glow from the dying fire showed a silhouette of something big. Very big. A wolf, maybe? Suddenly she was very happy her mother had insisted they buy Lucy her own tent.
Scratch that.
Suddenly she wished her mother had insisted they all sleep in the same old tent they’d always used. What she wouldn’t give to be quivering in her parents’ arms, rather than holding her breath all alone. In the dark. With a monster on the other side of a very thin piece of blood red nylon.
“Get out of here! Go on!”
Her father’s voice came loud and strong just a few feet away. Pots clanged together, and the monster outside scurried off. She heard it breaking through the underbrush surrounding their campsite, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Lucy, are you—” Her mother broke off. “Go on! Go away! Shoo!”
The underbrush thrashed louder and louder until her mother screamed in fear. No, terror. The animal snarled and snapped its teeth. Her father shouted in alarm and then pain. Lucy sat frozen at the entrance of her tent, listening helplessly as the beast attacked her parents. Screams, growls, fabric shredding, dirt flying, bones crunching, and then silence.
Not silence. Only her parents were silent. The animal continued snarling and grunting and snuffling wetly as it did unspeakable things to the only people in the world she truly loved. A screech bubbled up her throat and it was all Lucy could do to keep her mouth clamped shut. But a tiny squeak managed to leak out.
And the animal went quiet.
Giant paws padded toward her tent.