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Binding each other as mates was supposed to be the penultimate milestone in his relationship with Lucien, the last one being spending their life together until death did them part. He wanted it to be perfect. It just had to be perfect.

Right now it barely fulfilled his expectations.

Of course Ronan was happy that Lucien finally became his mate, but he was still grieving for his mother. He was unable to fully rejoice. It felt so wrong to even feel the slightest tinge of joy.

And that made Ronan feel even worse.

He did not want Lucien to think that he was not happy.

He was. Lucien’s willingness to be his mate meant the world to him.

He just did not know how to show it under these circumstances.

Against Beowulf’s warning, he just had to mess it up again.

.....

Ronan would love to smack his head against the wall a few times.

Lucien heaved a deep sigh. He patted Ronan’s cheek lovingly before locking his jaw and forcing him to look into Lucien’s eyes.

“Now you listen to me, Ronan Silverback,” Lucien narrowed his eyes and growled at his mate. “I did not do it for the hype. I did it for us.”

He then cupped Ronan’s face in his hands.

“Ronan, I will never be able to fully understand the heavy loss that you sustained. I just want you to know that I am here for you.”

When Ronan averted his eyes, Lucien grabbed his chin again and forced the Alpha to look at him.

“I am your mate. Don’t exclude me from your life. Share your pain with me, I can take it.”

His mate.

A soft sigh escaped Ronan’s lips.

How ironic, he thought. He just lost his mother, the only person he acknowledged as his family member. He felt so alone in this world. So lonely.

And then Lucien came and chose the moment to establish a mating bond with him. To become part of his family.

Ronan tilted Lucien’s head upward and kissed him.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for being my mate.”

“Likewise,” the other man replied curtly.

Lucien hooked his arms around Ronan’s neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss.

They sucked gently on each other’s lips, letting their hands wander around the other person’s body. Pinching, kneading, rubbing any soft part that they could reach.

“I love you,” Ronan said again between kisses. “I love you so much.”

He just loved Lucien so much.

He loved his beauty, his alluring body, his stubbornness, and even his foul mouth.

There were endless words that could be used to describe him, but those words would never be able to accurately portray Lucien’s complexity.

He loved the man in his arms so much. So much, so that the word “love” seemed to do his feelings injustice. He needed another, stronger word to tell Lucien how he felt about him.

“Marry me,” he begged again although Lucien already said yes to his proposal a long time ago.

Lucien chuckled.

“You took advantage of me so many times, and we were joined together as mates yesterday night. If you don’t marry me, I will submit a complaint to the Werewolf Council.”

A bitter smile appeared on Ronan’s face.

“I want nothing more than marry you this very second.”

Ronan inhaled a deep breath before he clenched his jaw.

“But I am sorry, Lulu. I can’t marry you for now. Not for a few months, I fear. It feels wrong.”

Ronan released Lucien. Groaning in frustration, he turned around and rubbed at his face with both hands.

He did not think that he would be in the mood for any festivities anytime soon.

“Sorry,” he said again.

It was rather ungentlemanly of him to break his promise to Lucien, he knew that. But he could not help it.

A warm body latched itself at Ronan’s back and hugged him from behind.

“Don’t worry about that,” Lucien said, leaning his head against Ronan’s powerful back. “Take as much time as you need. I don’t want to marry you during the mourning period anyway.”

Lady Adele Fangblade’s death deserved to be mourned properly.

Speaking about mourning...

Lucien disentangled himself from Ronan and pulled at the latter’s upper arm to gain his attention.

“Ronan, do you want me to handle your mother’s funeral? I can do that as your mate.”

Lucien meant well, but unexpectedly Ronan shook his head. His gaze was empty when he forced himself to explain further, “No need. Mom was cremated two days ago.”

Lucien was shocked.

Cremated?

So soon?

It was not the standard procedure to handle death in the werewolf community. Cremation was something that was done only to...

Lucien failed to prevent himself from gasping.

Ronan looked up at him, his sorrow was reflected in his reddened eyes.

“Ronan, I... am so, so sorry,” Lucien said helplessly.

Ronan scoffed.

“It is how it is. There is no need to sugarcoat it.”

Lucien shook his head in disbelief.

He forgot that Lady Adele Fangblade rejected Ronan’s father and divorced him. She was no longer part of the Infinite Eclipse Pack. She was, however crude and tasteless, basically a rogue she-wolf.

Rogue werewolves, male or female, had no place in the werewolf community. They were considered traitors, infidels, no longer the sons and daughters of the Moon Goddess. Even in death, they had no place among the other honorable werewolves.

That was the cruel fate that the werewolf community bestowed on the outcasts.

Ronan walked toward the living room and came back with a decorative urn in his hands.

“She’s in here,” he said curtly while caressing the urn lovingly. “My mom. Sad, isn’t it?”

Lucien gazed at the urn sadly.

It felt like yesterday when the lady put his arms around Lucien, telling him to choose happiness, telling him to take care of Ronan.

Lady Adele Fangblade was the sun in Ronan’s life. The sun had been reduced to ash, stuffed into an urn that barely deserved to contain the magnificence of the werewolf inside.

It was too unfair.

Lucien curled his fingers into fists.

“You know what?” he snarled. “Let’s do something about it.”

Ronan stared at Lucien.

“Huh?”

“Lady Adele Fangblade deserves better treatment,” Lucien decided. “Let’s give her that.”