Dad raised an eyebrow. His hip was cocked to the side, and he held out a grill spatula, ready to smack Dastien if he got too handsy.
“Within reason, of course,” I added.
“Mmm.” He sounded skeptical, but the apron he was wearing, which read ‘Why you all up in my Grill?’ killed some of his intimidation factor.
Time to change the subject. “How’re the burgers?” My stomach rumbled again, and Meredith put a giant bowl of Doritos in my face. I grabbed a handful and shoved them in my mouth.
“Nearly done, kiddo. We’re five away on this batch.”
That meant that thirty burgers were almost ready. Dad had upgraded to a giant custom-made grill after the whole going wolfy thing. Even though I lived at St. Ailbe’s—everyone’s favorite boarding school for werewolves—my parents liked me to come home for Sunday lunches now that I was considered stable and allowed off campus. I was welcome to bring friends, but werewolves ate way more than humans did. Thus, the super-sized grill.
“I’ll get the buns ready.” Meredith helped me line up plates and we dropped two buns on each one.
“Who wants cheese?” Dad called out.
Everyone yelled out some form of ‘yes’ or ‘me’.
Dad chuckled. “How about this, then? Anyone not want cheese?”
Silence. As it should be.
I handed Dad the stack of cheese slices and he got to work.
Once everyone had burgers and Dad had reloaded the grill, we settled down around the table. Meredith sat next to Donovan. His chin-length wavy brown hair was tucked behind his ears, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off his new mate.
“You guys are so cute,” I said.
Meredith tossed a chip at me, and I successfully caught it in my mouth. I raised my hands in the air. “That is how it’s done, ladies and gentleman.” I couldn’t believe how much my coordination had improved over the last few weeks. Before, I’d have been extremely lucky not to get an eye full of salt and vinegar.
Adrian kept chatting about magic stuff with my brother. Axel looked a lot like me. We had the same dark brown hair that tended to curl more than either of us liked. Adrian had darker skin, and his black hair was a little spiky. I liked that they got along so well. For the longest time, Axel had been my best friend—my only friend. I didn’t want him feeling excluded now that I was a Were.
Mom scanned the table, making sure that everyone’s plates were full. She smiled and turned to Chris. “How is your latest piece coming? The sculpture of the tree?”
Chris waved his hands as he described the way he was constructing the limbs.
I sat between Dad and Dastien. It was a good spot. Two of the most important guys in my life.
Looking around the table made me feel full, not because of the mountain of food, but because of the changes that’d happened in the past few months. This was the first birthday I’d ever had friends over to celebrate with me. It meant a lot.
So much had changed, and even if it had been hard, it felt like all of that was for a purpose. Now that I got to have moments like these, I really truly appreciated them for what they were.
Mom once told me that the bad days were there so you could really enjoy the good ones. It’d been at a time in my life when I was having nothing but bad days, and it hadn’t gotten any better. For years.
I could see her point now. She was right. If I had to go through years of bullying to get here, then that was okay by me. This was amazing.
Maybe it wasn’t much. A handful of friends and some burgers. But to me, it was everything.
Dastien kissed the top of my head. “You okay?” He could feel my emotions through our bond, and when I wanted to, I could speak to him through it.
I looked up into his amber-colored eyes. “Yeah. Really okay.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” I took a big bite of my burger.
Then dad dropped the bomb. “So, I want to talk to you two about the ceremony tonight.”
I started to choke. Yup. Today had been going just a little too well. A little too perfectly. This was probably the last thing I wanted to talk about with my father. Especially in front of everyone.
The blissful moment was officially over.
Dastien patted my back as I coughed and gulped down Mom’s homemade lemonade. “Sure,” I said when I could talk again. “What about it?”
“From what Michael’s told me, this is like getting married. You turned eighteen today, which means you’re still way too young to be so serious—especially about someone you barely know.”