**BOOK THREE**
Still grieving the loss of his mate, twenty-four-year-old Tatum Knowles isolated himself from the rest of his pack. With the strength of both his pack and himself being questioned by those around them, the last thing Tatum planned to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Nixon stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist as he approached me. Once he was close enough, I raised my one of his hands and placed it on his cheek while the other ran through his slightly damp, dark hair. Nixon leaned into my touch, and the second towel—which was lying limply around his neck—brushed against my arm, and I smiled softly.
"We need to start getting ready," I told him but didn't move my hands. "It's a big day today."
Nixon only let out indecipherable grumbles before slowly pulling away from me. It was early in the morning, and while we still had a few hours until the ceremony was supposed to start, I wanted to use that time for the two of us to have fun together. Nixon had seemed to be on board with the plan when I told him initially, but now he appeared to be regretting agreeing to wake up at such an early time.
"Come on. The sooner we get ready, the sooner we can eat," I told him, and instead of causing Nixon to perk up, it caused Goob to.
The pit bull turned to me with an expression that said food was the only thing on his mind. He scrambled to his feet and came barreling toward me, letting out a bark and shaking excitedly in their spot. I fought back a snort and smiled before glancing back at Nixon, who grabbed clothes from the closet.
Stitch still remained on his pillow, fast asleep, which wasn't surprising. While Goob loved to be by Nixon's and my side constantly, Stitch marched to the beat of his own drum. If he wanted to sleep, he was going to sleep; if he were hungry, he would eat. Only after he had fulfilled all his desires did he finally come to join the rest of us wherever we were.
The sound of Nixon's phone began to ring, and he turned around briefly before he looked and me and said, "Can you answer that?"
I nodded and moved to grab the phone. The caller ID unsurprisingly belonged to Nolan.
"It's your brother," I told Nixon.
"Put it on speaker?"
I answered the call and hit the speaker button, and the moment I did, Nolan's cheerful voice flooded the room.
"Good morning, Nix," he called out, and based on the shuffling I was hearing in the background, Roan was there too.
"Why are you calling me?" Nixon asked instead of responding.
"Good morning to you too, Nolan. Thank you for taking time out of your day to be an amazing brother and call to check up on me before my ceremony," Nolan imitated Nixon. "It's no problem, really, Nix. That's what family is for; thank you for also telling me good morning."
"Are you done yet?"
Nolan sighed. "Even Tatum couldn't teach you manners."
"It's a work in progress," I jokingly responded. Nixon shot a glare my way while Nolan laughed.
"But seriously, are you excited?" Nolan asked.
I also glanced up at Nixon, wanting to know the same thing. He didn't respond immediately and turned back to face the closet so that I couldn't see his face.
