She was nervous, wary. These were Wolf Breeds, and mixed with them was a healthy number of Coyote Breeds. It was impossible to tell them apart, but it was the Coyotes that made her suspicious.
Changing a lifetime of beliefs and fears wasn't easy. She had avoided these little community get-togethers for the past weeks for a reason. She'd refused to socialize with the enemy, except Styx.
From that first night, the image of him ever being anything but her lover had refused to come to mind.
"It's different tonight," she stated as they began to move into the heavily populated area. "There are more Breeds here tonight."
"Tonight's a special night," he told her, the deep edge of the brogue stroking her senses. There was a tone of affection, of easy amusement, in his voice as his fingers brushed against the small of her back while leading her toward a table where Cassie Sinclair and her parents sat.
Dash Sinclair was just as handsome today as he had been nearly a decade before when he and his wife, Elizabeth, had first come to the notice of the world. Sinclair, a former Special Forces soldier, had been suspected and questioned in the murder of a leading crime figure who had threatened Cassie when she was a child.
Sinclair had been, and still was, a formidable figure. Storme had no doubt in her mind that he could kill, and kill easily, where the protection of his child was concerned.
And amazingly, just like Wolfe and Hope, Jacob and Faith, Aiden and Charity, and the other married couples within the Breed community, he and Elizabeth didn't appear to have aged in the least.
There were rumors that somehow the Breeds had stopped aging beyond a certain point, and that they had infected their wives and husbands with some unknown virus that caused the phenomenon.
Gossip magazines ran such stories on a nearly weekly basis.
"You're thinking too hard, lass," Styx commented as they moved to the head table.
"Come, Storme, be a part of my world for one night. I promise, you won't regret it."
And that was what worried her.
Moving to the head table, Styx drew a chair out for her, helped her sit, then took his own seat.
"Ladies and gentlemen." Cassie stood to her feet, her voice amplified by the small mic that hooked over her ear.
The murmur of laughter and conversation stilled.
Cassie stood tall between her seated parents and gazed on the tables filled with Breeds and, as Storme had noticed, a number of humans and Feline Breeds as well. The Feline alpha and his felina were there, as well the Coyote alpha and his coya. If the pure blood societies had known about this little party, they would have been unable to resist the opportunity to strike.
"Tonight," she continued, "we celebrate my parents' tenth anniversary." A cheer went out. "Dash and Elizabeth Sinclair." She picked up the wineglass beside her plate as everyone followed suit.
Storme picked up her glass hesitantly, her gaze flicking to Styx as he picked up his as well.
Cassie stood to her father's side then, turned and faced her parents. "Your support and your love saved me." Her voice thickened as her parents held hands and Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. "Your dedication and your loyalty to your friends, your family and the world we strive to be a part of is an example to everyone. May your love, your warmth and compassion continue to shine the way for us all."
A tear eased down Cassie's cheek as she lifted the wine to her lips and completed the toast.
Storme found herself toasting the couple as well, sipping and feeling her chest tighten at the emotion that reflected in the parents' expressions, in the child's and in the faces of those who occupied what appeared to be the celebratory couple's table.
Cheers went out, interspersed with howls and Feline roars.
Storme watched as the alphas and their wives came to the couple, congratulated them and laid in their hands on what appeared to be a sterling silver, or perhaps a white gold, charm or coin of some kind.
The males shook hands, the wives hugged warmly, but Storme noticed that the male alphas didn't touch Elizabeth Sinclair in any way. And Dash, in thanking the alphas'
wives, touched nothing but their hair. A tender, light stroke of the backs of his fingers against the right side of their heads. The male alphas did the same with Elizabeth. At no time did a Breed male touch a mated-female's flesh.
And though it appeared odd, there also seemed to be an immeasurable sense of respect and affection in the slight caress.
Dash turned to the crowd. "We have our trials," he stated, his tone rough, a hard rumble of sound softened with camaraderie and a vein of warmth that matched the gleam of purpose and determination in his gaze. "We also have our joys." He glanced to his wife and then to his daughter. "Tonight, the celebration isn't just for Elizabeth and me. It's for all of us." He lifted his glass then and toasted the others, and the cheers that went up were almost deafening.
It was more than a celebration. It was an affirmation.
As Storme stared around the table at the others, she caught Hope Gunnar's gaze and felt that first raw shaft of guilt since the night she had sworn the Breeds would pay for what had happened to her father and brother.