Epilogue

Delilah sat behind her large and elaborately carved mahogany desk—a gift from a grateful phoenix—and kicked off her sky-high stilettos, scrunching her toes into the deep-pile carpet to relieve her cramping feet. The shoes worked for the image she insisted on projecting to the world, but boy did they kill.

She reached for the mail her assistant, Naiobe, had left neatly stacked in its tray. She opened the first envelope and smiled when she discovered a wedding invitation from Leia and Castor. About time, too. With a flick, she flipped over the envelope, scrunching her nose at the “and Guest” beside her name. Not that she’d be attending the wedding. She had a strict no weddings, matings, funerals, or ceremonies in general rule. Over the years, she’d found they weren’t particularly fun.

She hadn’t attended Tala and Marrok’s mating ceremony either, despite the fact she’d arranged that particular union—a brilliant move on her part, if she said so herself. Or she would say so if they could figure out what the fuck wasn’t working in that relationship. They’d done a good job of hiding it from people—after all, their union wasn’t wanted by many in both their packs, and with the sign from the gods being faked, they couldn’t exactly let others see the growing gulf between them.

But Delilah could tell.

Why were relationships so damn hard? She’d practically handed the wolf pair the perfect situation on a silver platter. They’d better not screw it up. She’d give them six months before taking matters into her own hands.

Couldn’t be having dissatisfied customers, now could she?

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