And when her knees gave out, Joey caught her without hesitation, wrapping his arms around her.
“I’ll stay with her for a while,” he murmured, soft and apologetic. “You go ahead.”
I didn’t argue. Just nodded and stepped away, alone.
Mr. Lawrence’s portrait rested beneath a crescent wreath of silver eucalyptus and white heather—symbols of wisdom and mourning among werewolves. I bowed three times, letting my wolf hum low beneath my skin in reverence.
Then I turned and approached Ms Madge nearby.
“My condolences, ma’am,” I said softly.
She wiped her eyes and took my hand in both of hers.
“You must be Joey’s girl. Thank you for coming to honor my mate. He always wanted to meet the young woman who finally got through to that thick-headed boy.” She smiled faintly. “I heard you were supposed to be mated soon…”
I stayed silent, waiting.
“Joey is loyal to a fault,” she continued gently. “He insisted on observing a full six-month mourning period. That can’t be easy on you.”
No, it wasn’t. But not for the reason she thought.
I said nothing about the arrangement with Laura. I didn’t need to. Something in my silence made her pause. Her eyes flicked to where Laura still leaned against Joey’s chest.
She sighed, long and low.
“We watched Joey grow up,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “He respected my husband deeply—from his first shift to his last degree. He was like a son to us. This mourning… it’s his way of honoring that bond.”
There was something like pleading in her tone, buried under her grief.
I gave her a thin, polite smile. “I understand his position.”
Because truthfully? The groom had already changed.
There was no wedding to delay—only a future I had already chosen to leave behind.
Madge nodded, as if reassured. But then she leaned closer, her voice lowered.
“And please don’t mind Laura. She’s always clung to Joey, ever since they were teens. But he doesn’t see her that way. I know he doesn’t.”
Something twisted in my chest. A flicker of something—hope? Anger? I couldn’t tell.
“He cares for me?” I asked, more to myself than her.
She blinked, startled by my doubt.
“Oh, honey.” Her grip on my hand tightened. “I wouldn’t lie. My mate and I used to joke Joey would mate with a textbook before a she-wolf. But then you came along, and suddenly he started talking about you all the time.”
“Little things,” she added fondly. “How he bumped into you at the market. How you made cupcake from scratch and nearly set the kitchen on fire. How you pestered him during patrol just to walk beside him.”
“He’d say it all like it annoyed him, but we knew. That boy just didn’t know how to admit he’d fallen.”
Her words should’ve warmed me. Once, they would’ve. Maybe even brought tears to my eyes.
But now? They just felt like ashes in my mouth.
If he truly loved me, why had I never felt it?
If he loved me… why agree to have a pup with another?
I inhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm building in my chest.
No. That moment—the one when he chose Laura, when he thought of her womb before our bond—that was when he lost me.
And there was no going back.