Taken by the Lycanthrope: A Shifter Omegaverse Romance (Fated Mates of the Riftwolves Book 1) by Chloe Parker

Taken by the Lycanthrope: A Shifter Omegaverse Romance (Fated Mates of the Riftwolves Book 1) by Chloe Parker

Author:Chloe Parker [Parker, Chloe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-25T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

☾

REYES

I’m not one to avoid my problems, but I certainly avoid Tilda.

I continue to go to the garden plot to work, but I don’t speak to her. In fact, I actively try not to. Instead, I let Peaches and Suyin keep an eye on her during our off-time, only seeing her in the peripheries while we work and at dinner.

She’s temptation incarnate; but, to my relief, she leaves me alone.

By the time Charlotte’s wedding rolls around, Tilda has somehow managed to embed herself with a small group of friends. Arden continues to distrust her, but everyone else has come to a somewhat uneasy truce. And she proves herself by picking up shifts on kitchen duty, working in the garden every day, and even spending time in the common room at night.

She can’t stay though, no matter how much she’s starting to fit in here. The wedding will be on the new moon, which means we only have two more weeks until the alphas go into rut, and the omegas go into heat. She can’t be here for that if I want to keep to my vows.

The clock is ticking.

Even if she’s my mate—even if I’m starting to like her—she has to go.

Beyond that, I’ve gotten in touch with some friends in the city and we’re ready for our raid on a Heavenly Host medical shipment. There should be supplies going to San Antonio in just over a week, at which point we’ll get the insulin for Tilda’s sister. Then, it’s all smooth sailing and wrapping up loose ends on the farm before we let her go.

Some of the others still think I should keep her locked away here, holding her as our prisoner…but I’m not going to do that. She’s not my prisoner.

When she leaves, we’ll part ways as equals.

On Charlotte’s wedding night, I do everything I can to prepare as her padrino—at least, in all the ways that I think she’ll be comfortable with as a non-Catholic. I get a coil of rope to use as el lazo for the end of the ceremony, and with Peaches’ help, I wind golden thread and dried flowers around it. I attach a rosary to it as well—not her father’s, since it was lost a long time ago, but something that belonged to my mother. I even slap together las arras matrimoniales—wedding coins, courtesy of other members of the pack. I place the old, now polished, currency into a little wooden box, and Mateo helps me paint it in brilliant colors.

This is not the way weddings were when I was first ordained. Back then, these little trinkets were ornate and beautiful. The padrino would spend loads of money on the bride and groom, doting on their beloved family members.

Family is so hard to come by nowadays. I’m pleased that I can at least do this.

I forego the collar as I get dressed for the wedding, opting instead for a black button-up and jeans. They’re the nicest clothes I own, salvaged from the city before the other rebels forced all the lycan out of Austin.



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