Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Jaime smiled the moment she spotted her. “Hey, Frankie.” She patted the chair beside her in invitation. “Lydia was just telling us about all the crazy shit that Iris did whenever she was drunk. Lydia, tell her about the time your mom wrote the poem for a badger.”
Lydia did, and Frankie couldn’t help but chuckle. As she listened to each of Iris’s drunken incidents, she felt the grief’s tight grip loosen.
Sniffling, Greta rubbed at her nose with a tissue. “I’ll miss Iris. She was a lovely woman.”
Riley’s brows drew together. “You called her fit to burn a week ago.”
“I did not,” stated Greta, affronted.
Behind the old woman, Grace mouthed “She totally did,” and then placed another platter of food on the table.
“I had a lot of respect for her,” Greta claimed. “She was like me. Family oriented. Fair. Supportive. A survivor. She’d been through a lot, but she didn’t let any of it beat her. No.”
Taryn shook her head in what looked like amazement. “You have a glossy opinion of yourself that is massively undeserved.”
Makenna nodded in agreement. “Some find ignorance to be bliss, I suppose.”
“My boys are the ones living in ignorance,” sniped Greta. “For some reason, they don’t see their mates as unworthy of them. Marcus did me proud finding Roni. But the rest of them . . .” Greta grimaced. “They let me down, and they let themselves down.” Her eyes slid to Frankie. “I had high hopes for Trick and Dominic, but there you sit with my Trick’s mark on your neck—bold as brass, like the hussy you are. That wouldn’t have happened back in my day. Nooooo. I never let anyone but my Arthur leave a brand on me.”
Frankie snickered. “You also took your driver’s test on a dinosaur.”
Clapping, Riley threw back her head and laughed. The kids didn’t seem to have any clue what she found so funny, but they started clapping along.
Jaime bumped Frankie’s shoulder with her own. “Iris would have loved that one.”
At that moment Trey, Dante, Tao, and the enforcers filed into the room. Trick sank into the seat beside Frankie and kissed her temple. “What’s so funny that has Riley doubled over with laughter?”
Frankie just shook her head. “Is everything okay? Did the meeting have anything to do with Drake?”
Piling food on his plate, Trick explained, “Trey wanted to let me know that Morelli called him with a warning.”
She frowned. “What kind of warning?”
“Drake’s gone missing. Or, more likely, he’s gone AWOL.”
“Meaning he could come after you again.” Her wolf’s upper lip curled. “I’d say it was good of Morelli to warn you, but he’s probably done it so he can deny blame for whatever Drake does or doesn’t do next.”
“That was my thought. We’ll find out soon enough. For now, let’s eat.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Frankie had never been to a shifter funeral before. It wasn’t much different from those held for humans, except that there were no clergy members reading out scriptures. Instead the Bjorn Alpha, Josh—who was also one of Dante’s older brothers—had spoken of what a warm, supportive pack member Iris had been and then voiced his wishes that she rested well. After that, other Bjorn wolves and relatives began to take turns speaking, sharing funny or touching stories.
Frankie listened intently to the stories, eager to hear more about her grandmother. Focusing on them also helped her ignore the curious glances and whispers coming from the Bjorn wolves.
People sniffled and sobbed, even as they chuckled at the anecdotes. One thing was clear—Iris had been well loved by these people. It wasn’t surprising; the woman had won Frankie’s affection quickly. Right then her heart felt heavy, and there was a huge lump in her throat. Yeah, the tears were building. Hoping to ward them off, she took a deep breath and drew in Trick’s scent and the smells of earth, fresh flowers, and sun-warmed stone.
Right then, his warm hand supportively engulfed hers. He never strayed far from her side. He was always touching, kissing, and soothing her. When he wasn’t holding her hand, he was massaging her nape, cupping her elbow, splaying his hand on her back, or resting it on her shoulder. Frankie soaked in his support, needing his strength.
His presence also reassured her wolf, who didn’t like being on Bjorn territory, which surprised Frankie. She had been born there. She’d spent the first three years of her life there. But her wolf wasn’t moved by that. Nor was she comforted by some of the scents that she vaguely recognized. Then again, graveyards weren’t exactly comforting places.
All in all, this particular graveyard seemed to be pretty well maintained. There were several rows of carved headstones, some granite, some marble, some concrete. Most were well kept and had decorative flower beds and framed portraits. Others were cracked and discolored, with patches of overgrown grass and dead wreaths. She wondered if the neglect signified that the people buried there hadn’t been well liked by the other members.