Chapter 4: The Pet

"When?" I asked.

Wylie's jaw worked.

"There were lanterns in the trees. Lots of people. The old man brought me to carry his bags."

The last time Stonemere had hung lanterns in the cedars was the last Gathering.

Five years ago.

The same week I walked out.

"What else?"

He closed his eyes.

"Nothing. There's a hole. I go down the hill in my head and it's just black."

"Then don't go down the hill."

I poured another bowl of water over his shoulders.

His hand came up out of the water and caught my wrist.

"You were here too," he said. "That week."

"I was busy finding my sister in my mate's bed."

"We could've passed each other on the stairs."

"I'd have remembered you."

He looked up at me with water running off his hair.

"Would you?"

I didn't have an answer that wasn't embarrassing, so I handed him a towel.

The Ridgeback party arrived the next afternoon.

Dillon's mother was Ridgeback's Alpha, a tall gray-haired woman who shook hands.

Dad threw a dinner in the dining hall to start the wedding planning.

He didn't invite me.

I came anyway, with Wylie, and sat at the end of the family table.

Wylie could walk on his own now if I stayed close.

He ate his roast with careful, deliberate hands.

Tilly sat across from us in a blue silk dress with her curls pinned up.

She waited until the pie came out.

Then she leaned toward Dillon's mother and spoke just loud enough for the table.

"I'm worried about my sister. She keeps that poor man drugged so he'll follow her around. Ask her what's in the drops she gives him."

Dillon's mother turned her gray eyes on me.

"Is that true?"

Before I could open my mouth, Wylie put his fork down.

"The drops are valerian and something that tastes like a wet dog," he said. "I'm not drugged, ma'am. I'm slow. There's a difference."

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