It's time for the boys to break bread with Izzy. I wonder who "family" includes. And, of course, if Zoe were going to read werewolf books, she'd choose Moonlight Muse. I own the calendar in question and totally side with Zoe on Elijah Westwood.
Adjusting to living in Nebrodi hasn’t been smooth sailing. Henrik and I are doing our best to study that EIGHT HUNDRED PAGE guide to being a Nebrodi Beta Luna Katrina gave us, but we didn’t have much time to focus. There is a witch out there looking to mess with our mate’s family, and she needs to be put down. We’ve spent most of our time as our wolves running all over Sicily trying to sniff the hag out. Even with a scent sample of her and her great-granddaughter, whom she kidnapped, we’ve come up with nothing. It’s frustrating for everyone searching for her. That’s why Isadora was insistent that we come for dinner. She said her family needed time away from the hunt. Given that I found Zoe looking at real estate listings, I had to agree that she could use the mental break. Thankfully, Zoe didn’t put up much of a fight about attending dinner at her parents’ house. While she got ready, my brother and I got changed and waited for her. I felt overdressed when Zoe walked out in jeans. Sh
I know Zoe shut down the possibility of her being pregnant, and logically, I know the likelihood of it is very low, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. What if she is pregnant? Would it be mine or Gunnar’s? Does it matter? What would a kid call us? How would they differentiate who they call dad? ‘Stop worrying about it. There are plenty of names for male parental figures. One of you can be Dad and the other Papa like Zoe’s cousin and his mate. And no, it won’t matter who genetically is the father. Any pup of Zoe’s is ours.’ Pollux rolled his eyes. I knew he was right but couldn’t stop thinking about it, even as we followed Isadora to the large dining room of her home, where the rest of the family were seated. Despite being in Sicily for almost a month, Damon is the only person at the table I feel I know to any degree because he was in Ironfur. There hasn’t been a lot of time since we got here to play the getting to know the in-laws’ game. ‘I don’t think their plan is for you
While I can’t believe Gunnar and Henrik kept this from me, I can forgive them, given their upbringing and where they are from. I don’t want this to sound offensive or like I’m saying all Americans are like that, but Opera and Ballet are often considered unmanly by American standards. Not that other countries don’t have a similar mindset. However, these aren’t talents we’d look down upon here, especially in my family. “I don’t know your mother, so I’m only speaking as one myself. She likely wanted to ensure your individuality, especially in a sea of many children. I’m not dismissing your feelings on it.” Mama sighed. “She shouldn’t have made you feel you had to perform for anyone. However, no one should feel ashamed of their talents and expressing them.” I frowned, giving Henrik and Gunnar’s thighs a squeeze. “You won’t find that kind of discouraging attitude in our family,” Regina gestures around. “You’re seated at a table with three singers. Zio Alec is a big supporter of the arts,
I knew the Petridis family learning about our talents would come out eventually. Just as I knew Henrik’s would instantly be accepted as Zoe and her parents are singers. There hadn’t been many occasions for me to show off my skills unless you count strip teases for Zoe or that happy dance the day after the family dinner when that hag Ersilia lost her head. Now that the bitch is dead, I was looking forward to things getting to a new normal. No more long days trying to track her down. The hunters, fuck it’s weird that hunters were on our side, were able to explain how Ersilia stayed hidden from being scented or magically tracked. Angels! Mother fucking ANGELS! I’d never seen one till I got a look at Bert. He was the only angel the hunters left alive for questioning. I don’t know if all angels smell the same, but Castor and I committed the scent to memory. I don’t understand why the angels were working with Ersilia and won’t till the hunters get Bert to crack, but if they were involved i
Watching Gunnar and Henrik interact with their nephews and nieces, despite the long separation, was a heartwarming sight. I had always known they were good with children, having witnessed their interactions with the heirs at Ironfur and here. But seeing them in this familial setting, I was certain they would be exceptional fathers. We had discussed the possibility of having children, but it was a different feeling to think about it as a near-future reality. I tried to hide my relief when they confessed they both hoped to be dads sooner rather than later. I managed to stop myself from touching my belly. I’d already been doing my best not to think about the positive pregnancy test I took this morning. Kat had been nagging me for a few days to take one and showed up in my office this morning when I was doing some last-minute work and had me take it. I haven’t been able to tell Gunnar and Henrik yet. I figured I’d wait till we got through to their family’s arrival. I wanted them to know
I knew Dad would say or do something to make Zoe angry. It was inevitable. Plus, I think she’s been itching to stone him since she first heard about his lack of involvement in our upbringing. So, it was never an if but a when that she’d stone him. While Lorna’s nephew's arrival with them was unexpected, there was no reason for his behavior. I don’t know what circumstances brought Maverick to Finn and Lorna’s doorstep, but there wasn’t a need to act like he was in danger here. It was disrespectful as fuck. It’s like he thought Nebrodi, Madonie, or Incubi would want to hurt the little kid. That was unacceptable, and he’s damn lucky Zoe was the only ranked member of the packs here. Dad and I may not see eye-to-eye on many things, but I don’t want to see him dead. And I’m about ninety percent sure that dead or at least hospitalized is what he’d be if he had pulled this shit and it was any of the D’Amores present. He should know better. Thankfully, we weren’t riding in the same car as Da
Leave it to our dad to open his mouth and insert his foot so deep his toes are coming out of his ass. Are our suits our style? No. Are they something we’d pick for ourselves? No. Are they possibly just a bit too much? Maybe. Have we made a complaint about them beyond the fit? Hell fucking no. It doesn’t matter that André designed these suits to pair with Zoe’s gown. Knowing the designer is someone I don’t want to cross helps, but that’s not the point. We are in Nebrodi, and this is how things are done. Our suits are aligned with the styles of all the other ranked males. Dad should know better than to mock the customs of a foreign pack. He’s the one who told us always to be respectful while visiting another pack, as you never know who you could offend. And he’s just offended the wrong people. I wanted to see how he’d escape this if he could. The D’Amore family has yet to show they are the easily placated type. Even if he could somehow get out of trouble with some apologies and com
There are a million ways tonight could have gone. Many things could have gone wrong, from meeting the extended Kilbourn family to telling Gunnar and Henrik about the pregnancy and their ceremony. At the airport, it went bad because Alfred was an asshole who needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. If Finn hadn’t gotten involved back at the packhouse, Alfred would have learned the hard way that there are worse things that can happen than being turned to stone. I’ll admit I was looking forward to seeing André, Zio Alec, or Mama put Alfred in his place. Sure, it was probably for the best that Finn did so. It still would’ve been far more entertaining if it was one of my family members. Alfred thought there was danger here when they landed, misguided fool. Any threat in Sicily would never be directed at the boy but at him for his stupidity. So, it would’ve been nice for him to learn that lesson. I thought that would be the end of it. Finn had commanded him not to speak unless in praise. Pr