Permission Granted
Coit
“My business here involves Lydia.” I clear my throat and continue, “I’m here to ask for your blessing to marry her.”
Alcide chuckles, crossing his arms over her chest. Her father is a few inches shorter than me, but he’s more muscular, his biceps large and intimidating. Despite being middle aged, he clearly still works out. As he stands next to Gerald, he looks like a younger version of his father. I can’t tell if that’s a happy chuckle or if I should be worried.
“Shouldn’t you be asking Lydia if she wants to marry you instead of us?” Alcide retorts. “You should know by now, my daughter hardly needs my permission to do anything.”
“Yes, but I also know that this pack is traditional, and I wouldn’t want to disrespect either of you by not asking for your input.”
Most shifter packs are traditional and old–fashioned. No matter what age or gender, we always look to the Alpha for approval and permission. My pack is progressive by most standards as having a female Alpha is very rare. It’s happened before but usually with a female Alpha sharing the power with her mate in an equal partnership.
Emory is more the exception than the rule. I provide support but I don’t hold equal power with her in any way. I’m more of a glorified manager than anything else. I hold a higher position than her Beta, but I’m still not the Alpha.
Alcide looks to his father who merely shrugs. Gerald says, “I have no objections.”
“Dad,” Alcide chides. “At least try to think about it first.”
“What’s there to think about? Lydia likes him. I like him. They’re fated mates. Why would I say no?”
“He’s…” Alcide glances at me before hissing, “he’s Bernard Moonraker’s son. It hasn’t been that long since his pack attacked us and tried to take our territory.”
“That’s ancient history, Al. It’s been over twenty years since all that happened. Let it go.” He opens a box on the table next to his chair which contains cigars. “We should be celebrating. Our Lydia is getting married!”
Gerald stands up and takes out three cigars from the box. He hands one to his son and one to me.
“Do you smoke, Coit?”
“Uh, sure.” I don’t smoke, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m not saying no.
I move closer to take the cigar, and Gerald lights them with a silver lighter. The Nightstone Pack’s coat of arms is engraved on it, a full moon surrounded by three wolves.
The first inhale of smoke makes me cough.
Gerald lets out a barking laugh and pats me on the back. “Inhale slowly, boy. You’re supposed to savor it.”
I follow his instructions, but I can’t say I enjoy it. I don’t complain as my pride won’t let me. Gerald goes to the side of the study where he has a decanter of brandy and glasses on a table. He pours us all a glass,
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Permission Granted
and we drink by the fireplace like we do this all the time. Maybe they do.
“I thought at least Tyler would be married by now,” Gerald says. “I didn’t think Lydia would be the first to go.”
“She doesn’t have to go yet,” Alcide mutters, glaring at his glass of brandy. “We don’t even know if she’ll say yes to the proposal.”
“Now, Al….” Gerald puts an arm around his son’s broad shoulders. “Let bygones be bygones. Coit hasn’t done anything against us, and your little girl has to grow up eventually. You weren’t that much older when. you and Amanda got married.”
“Amanda wasn’t about to go to healer school. Lydia has worked so hard for this, and she’ll be too busy to plan a wedding….” His gray–blue eyes stare into me. “You’re not going to elope, are you? Lydia deserves to have the wedding of her dreams.”
He says ‘elope‘ like it’s a dirty word. I’m right that their family is very old–fashioned and traditional. If I skipped trying to get their blessing, I would have offended them greatly.
I nod quickly. “Of course. Whatever she wants.”
“Lydia won’t have to plan the wedding on her own. Amanda will help and I’m sure Coit’s mother will want to give her input. Right, Coit?” my mate’s grandfather ads.
“My mom loves planning events.”
Gerald smiles. “See, Al? Everything will be fine.”
Alcide still looks unsure as he takes a sip of the brandy. He looks me straight in the eye and declares, “If you hurt my daughter in any way, I’ll make sure you pay. I’ll have a plan and an alibi.”
I gulp, feeling with certainty that Alcide Nightstone will gladly kill me if I ever give him a reason to. “I’ll never hurt her, sir,” I say, trying to gather all my courage. “I just want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“Stop threatening the boy,” Gerald tells his son. “Lydia will kill him herself if it needs doing. She’s going to be a healer. She’ll be very efficient at knowing how to kill someone.”
That makes Alcide smile.
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