Beneath the Skin (11 page)

No one in my birth pack had come to this Gathering. It wasn’t surprising. Mayflower, my birth pack didn’t like to mix much. They were very self-contained.

Murphy and I stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the Council, but we didn’t look at each other.

Sarah didn’t look at her bond mate, Lucas, either. She stood beside me and I saw her keep her gaze fixed on the Councilor in front of her. Lucas stared at her, though, in a most possessive fashion. I smelled his greed and stubbornness. I didn’t like what I smelled--at all.

On the other side of Murphy were the two women and one man making a triad. The man

and his original bond mate were Belgian. The third woman was French. She was extraordinarily pretty and dressed in a burnt-orange gown. All three of them glowed with happiness. They were a good match.

The shells glued to Murphy’s box were smooth against my skin. I ran my fingertips along their curling edges and wondered if he’d like the box, or even give a shit in the first place.

I knew my pewter box would be cold and not precisely smooth to the touch. There would be tiny bumps, small imperfections where the metal had cooled. I couldn’t tell if the box was square or rectangular, because of the way he held it. I knew it wasn’t round, nor, thank god, heart-shaped.

The shell box was shaped like a treasure chest with a domed lid. I wondered if I shouldn’t have chosen a plain wooden box with maybe a few decorative insets of different types of wood.

Maybe this one was too distinctive, too different. I wished I knew Murphy better but I didn’t, of course, and I tried to be positive. Maybe in time we’d be a good match. Maybe we would.

Councilor Ducharme performed most of the ceremony in French and I followed along

pretty well. Murphy had no problem, of course, nor did the triad, but Lucas scowled the entire time, pouting, and Sarah bowed her head and appeared to go somewhere inside herself.

If I’d been the one performing the ceremony when it came time for each of us to affirm we were doing this of our own freewill, I would have challenged Sarah. But Ducharme didn’t.

She barely deigned to do that part in English.

For the ceremony she wore her Councilor’s robe--earth brown with a golden lining.

Underneath it I saw she wore a dark brown dress, and I thought once she took off the robe she might look like a wafer-thin walking chocolate bar with blond hair.

The entire time she interacted with me and Murphy, she had a most insincere smile. But then so did we.

Murphy and I had to face each other to present the boxes. This was the part of the

ceremony where it became free form and you could say what you wanted.

The Belgians and French woman were in tears as they exchanged boxes. Tears of joy and love. They embraced and kissed and helped each other put on their pendants, each with three stones. Then they were a triad.

I didn’t say anything when I handed Murphy the shell box. It was warm from my hands and he ran a finger over the domed lid, his face thoughtful as he regarded it.

“How did you know I always wanted a shell box?” he murmured, but he was talking

mostly to himself. He lifted the lid and took out the pendant. It was on a basic silver chain, one he could replace with something nicer if he wanted. It was long enough so he could put it over his head without unclasping it.

I’d chosen a peridot for the setting, but he’d supplied his own birthstone. It was a beautiful pearl. Maybe that’s why, subconsciously, I’d chosen the shell box--an ocean theme.

I’d given up my peridot in its single setting and now when I opened the rectangular pewter box I saw it had been put into a double setting, paired with another lustrous pearl.

When a child was born, the mother chose a stone for her child. Modern fashion dictated that birthstones were chosen, but it hadn’t always been that way. My mother had chosen my peridot and I would use it in every pendant I ever wore. Single when I was growing up, a double when I bonded with Grey, a triad when Elena joined us, back to a single, and now this double.

The pearl Murphy had chosen was large and almost perfectly round. Expensive. I’d

chosen a nice peridot--not the biggest one that had been for sale, but not the smallest, either. It had a particular dark greenness to it that pleased me. My fingers had gone straight for it when I’d been shown a velvet tray full of jewels. As with the boxes, there were always people with birthstones to sell at Gatherings.

The pendant was suspended from a fine link silver chain that was nicer than the chain I usually wore by day. I unclasped it and Murphy watched me fasten it. He held the pewter box.

He wouldn’t meet my gaze, and I thought that meant he was having second thoughts

about bonding with me. We should be looking at each other instead of anywhere but. We should be smiling, laughing.

Ducharme watched us, her beady eyes full of acrimonious pleasure. Bitch.

Allerton watched us too. He smiled, but not with any malicious intent. He seemed

genuinely pleased at our bonding. I couldn’t understand why.

After the ceremony, we were shown to our tables for the feast.

Of course Murphy and I had nobody to sit with us, because neither of us had a pack.

It was a table for ten set for two. Pathetic, but at least I could watch the fountains.

“You’re not eating much,” Murphy said, his first words to me as a bond mate. Terribly auspicious.

I reached out for the wine bottle and refilled our glasses.

The food was delicious: game hen and a variety of vegetables, French bread and real butter, cheese, pâté, foie gras.

I choked down a few bites of the game hen and concentrated on my wine. It was red and it tasted like darkness tinged with chocolate.

There was lots of water on the table, of course, in case we wanted to shift later. I hoped we would. Even though I would have to explain my wolf, returning to wolf form regularly would be the best thing this bonding would bring into my life. I could almost taste the wind in my mouth.

I put my wineglass aside and drank some water.

“Those cookies look really good.” I craned my neck to look at the dessert table nearby.

“You want some?”

He nodded. A slightly relieved smile ghosted across his mouth.

As I pondered and picked over the macarons and other French cookies, I realized we’d sat in absolute silence for the entire meal, almost an hour.

“I’ve lived alone too long I think,” I said, returning to the table with two plates--one piled high with cookies, the other with a huge slice of Black Forest chocolate cake. “I don’t talk to myself. At least not out loud. Sorry if I ignored you during dinner.”

“I’m not exactly talking your head off, either.” His eyes lit up at the sight of the cake.

Somehow I had known Murphy would like Black Forest chocolate cake.

I crammed a bright green pistachio-flavored macaron into my mouth and it melted on my tongue. I quickly followed with a raspberry pink one. Murphy attacked the cake.

“Where are we going to live?” I wondered, debating whether I wanted a lemon or

chocolate-flavored one next. “Where do you live, by the way? I don’t even know.”

“Belfast,” he answered. “Well, the outskirts, anyway. What about you? Boston, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I own a condo in the Brighton area. It’s small but I love it.” I chose the chocolate macaron and crunched it between my teeth.

“I’ve got a cottage,” he confided. “Old but updated.”

“Room for two? My condo’s technically got two bedrooms, but the second one is tiny as hell. Office space mainly. You like Boston?”

“Never been,” he admitted. “You’ve been to Ireland?”

“Ha,” I said. Would he share just one bite of his cake? “This is the first time in my life I’ve been outside America.”

“France,” said Murphy in a disparaging voice. “You can’t compare France to Ireland, Constance. Where do you want to live?”

“Well, I thought Ireland since that’s where your pack is. It’s a sure bet my old one won’t have me back. Maybe we could keep my condo and visit Boston sometimes?”

“Sure,” he agreed with a pensive smile. “About my former pack, Constance...”

He broke off then, because Councilor Allerton pulled out one of the eight empty chairs around our table and invited himself to sit down.

A waiter rushed over with coffee and brandy, and I went back to the dessert table to get Councilor Allerton crème brûlée. I got another piece of the Black Forest cake while I was at it and put it down in front of Murphy.

“Share this one with me?” I declared more than asked. He handed me a fork and grinned.

“I’m glad to see you two are finally smiling. I thought I was attending a wake instead of a bonding ceremony there for a moment.” Allerton lifted his coffee cup and gave us a genial look before he took a swallow.

“The couple next to us weren’t smiling, either,” Murphy pointed out. He grinned a little to soften his words.

“Sarah and Lucas,” I said. “Their packs are combining. They’re the bridge. She just about hates him, and I don’t know what he thinks, except I’m sure it’s mostly about possession and very little about how she feels about anything. I told her to sever ties on her birthday and leave the pack. Screw them. She can find something better at a Regional. Or be alone for that matter.”

“Not many of us do well on our own, Constance,” mused Allerton. “I must say your

counsel was not very, shall we say, diplomatic.”

“I leave all that diplomacy shit to you on the Council.” I shrugged. Murphy nearly

choked on a bite of cake. He’d already eaten half of the second piece, the pig. I took a big forkful and ate it just to make sure I got at least one taste. That’s when I understood why I never got any of the first piece.

“Holy shit, this is good,” I said with delight. Murphy pushed the plate toward me.

“Nevertheless, Constance, in view of your own circumstances, I would be less inclined to offer advice like that in the future.” Allerton didn’t think anything I’d said was funny. He put down his coffee cup and glared at me as a ripple of unease slid down my spine.

I put my fork down.

“My own circumstances being what? Forced into bonding with somebody I don’t even

know? Or because everyone around me seems hell-bent on dropping dead?”

Murphy’s face became shuttered and Allerton stared at me.

“You were not forced, Constance.”

“Next best thing, Councilor.”

“Would you have preferred the alternative?” His eyebrows drew together, and another shiver went down my spine. The cake and cookies sat like lead in the pit of my stomach.

“I don’t see why she should be so unhappy. She told me her mother made her bond with Lucas. My mother never made me bond with anybody. I did what I wanted. We should all be able to do what we want.”

“Well, that may be true, but life is not fair, Constance, is it?” Allerton leaned across the table and took me by the wrist. He gave me a little shake, much like an adult wolf would give a puppy. It was a warning.
Back off, little one
. “Sometimes sacrifice is necessary for the greater good, and rather than wallow and feel sorry and resentful for the sacrifices that may be required of us, why shouldn’t we strive to be graceful about them? Rise above them? Make them work for us instead of against us?” He shook my wrist again. Harder.

“What is happiness, Constance? Our birthright? Or something we work for? Something

we’re rewarded with or something we are owed? The pack is made up of individuals, but there is also the Pack, is there not? The collective? The essence of every member bound up into one thing? Rather than rot and die, Sarah’s pack has chosen to align with another, a stronger one.

And in doing so, they will survive, they will stay together and they will all grow richer for the association. Unless, of course, Sarah chooses to become a martyr and then the rot will grow and fester. The whole pack may dissolve, not just her original part of it.”

I bit my lip and was silent. I knew I had a chip on my shoulder when it came to doing what was expected of me. My parents had been incredibly disappointed when I’d left to join Riverglow rather than stay with Mayflower. I’d been the fifteenth generation from the original Alpha pair, and from birth I’d been destined to be Alpha of Mayflower and produce the sixteenth generation. Instead, I’d thrown it all away on purpose. There were reasons and I still thought they were good ones, but it was always with me, the repercussions of my past decisions, which had been fueled by rebellion.

Chastened, I wondered if I had let my own past circumstances influence what I’d said to Sarah. Perhaps Councilor Allerton was right--I should have supported her in a different way and not fomented rebellion. How had it worked for me? Sure, I’d been very happy with Grey and Elena for a decade, but when they were gone I’d had nothing left. Perhaps if I hadn’t burned so many bridges I might have had support the past two years.

“You were happy with Grey and Elena, I understand that. You were given a great gift, Constance, one you may never receive again. Ever. But will you spend your life mourning this gift, because you might not get it again, or celebrating the fact you had it at all?” He let go of my wrist and pushed back his chair.

“I wish both of you the best of luck in your bonding and I know you will do good things together, not because I wish it, but because of who you are. Good night.”

He walked over to the table of Belgians and they made room for him, their faces growing solemn with the honor of his singling them out.

“I remember Gatherings where the closest I ever got to a Great Council member was

craning my neck over a roomful of people and feeling awed if they even glanced in my direction,” I muttered

Murphy snorted with laughter. “The problem with Council members is they are not all bark and no bite. They bite. And when they do, you mostly deserve it. Except that bitch from hell, Ducharme, of course. I have no idea what her problem is, and I hope I never find out.” He pushed the cake plate back in front of me.

“Eat more, Constance. Don’t let him ruin this for you. Dessert’s been the highlight of your whole experience tonight. End it on a high note. Finish the cake.”