Page 68 of Fake It ’Til You Mate It

Maybe, but as long as Mother is happy, Gus is happy.

And Mother is very Happy with the good wolf.

— gus

Thanksgiving is a shifter’s dream holiday. A day full of food and family, community and gratitude… what can be better?

Oh. I know. A Claiming Ceremony.

Opossum shifters have it easy. When we decide someone is our mate, we mark them, we fuck them, we mate them. Both mates have to go into it choosing each other, but as soon as the claiming is done, a bond snaps into place, and boom: we’re forever mates.

Wolves are a little more complicated, especially when your mate is the Alpha. First, you need the Luna’s blessing. Second, you need to mate on the night that she’s full—like tonight. And third, if you’re not already marked, you better be by the time you finish.

As Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack, Max hosted a feast for all of Moonburrow. As my mate, he decided that he wouldn’t wait until the next time the Luna rose—during the next full moon—to finalize our bond. That’s why, once the dessert had been served and the sun had set, our entire community gathered in the woods outside of the Alpha cabin to celebrate the first stages of an Alpha Claiming Ceremony.

Over our heads, the moon over Moonburrow hangs low and full, heavy with a gleaming pale light that spills over the clearing like melted sugar.

The wolves stand in a wide semicircle, their fur silvered, eyes reflecting the glow of their beloved goddess. The prey shifters and witches who joined us have gathered along the edge; not out of fear, but respect. Even Gus sits on a stump like a little king, tail curled around his paws, supervising.

At the center of it all, Max takes my hand.

He’s not in his version of his sheriff’s uniform tonight. No jeans, no badge, just a white t-shirt rolled up at the sleeves, black slacks, and a faint nervous twitch in his jaw that only I can see.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

I nod, even though my stomach is doing somersaults. “You sure you want to tie yourself to an opossum?”

He smiles that slow, dangerous smile that gets me in trouble every time. “You sure you want to spend your life keeping with a possessive, overprotective wolf?”

“Fair point.” I needle him in the side. “Maybe I should change my mind.”

Max turns, cupping my jaw in his big paw. “Too late, Killer. I caught you. You’re mine. I’m a good male, Honey. A fair sheriff and an understanding Alpha.” He banished all of those who followed Leo Holloway out of Moonburrow. Shifter justice was definitely an eye for an eye. Declan died. Abigail. Both Leo and Talia Winters were gone by the time Max finished dishing out supe justice, but everyone else… they got a second chance, thanks to Max. “But if you leave me now, there’s no limit to what I’ll do to get you back.”

I lean into his touch. “As if I’d actually go. Please. In fact, let’s hurry this up. I want this bond unbreakable before you change your mind.”

“Never gonna happen, Honey,” he vows, but he does gesture at his brother.

We don’t have weddings. It’s not a shifter thing. We mate, and we love, and we sometimes have children, but weddings belong to the humans. However, it’s a different story when your mate is the Alpha. Their Ceremony is a big deal because it’s his way of introducing his mate to the entire pack.

Riordan clears his throat behind us, playing officiant for us.

“Under Luna’s light,” he says, voice steady, “we recognize this bond as true and fated. Chosen by instinct, strengthened by choice...”

Max takes my hand, squeezing it. “You sure you’re not going to faint?” he whispers.

“I only play dead for dramatic effect,” I whisper back. “And not anymore. Not while you’re around.”

He lifts our conjoined hands, dropping a kiss to the top of mine. “All the more reason for you to accept me as your male.”

I snicker. “I thought I did that.”

And have done it again and again and, whoops, one more time for good luck in between the salad course and the first round of sides earlier today.

“Choose me, Honey,” Max murmurs. “The Luna has already given us her blessing. Choose me.”

I look over at Riordan. This isn’t a human wedding, but there are no two better words for me to say at this moment than, “I do.”

The wolves in the pack howl, a rolling, joyous sound that echoes through the trees and makes every hair on my arms stand up. The prey shifters join in, chittering and squealing and laughing while the witches clap their approval.