I can hear Aldous before I can see him. Hear his quivering form in the darkness. He's shaking with grief, emotion, is he crying? When I can finally see him, he's hunched over next to a quaint little row boat on the shore of a pond.

Or perhaps a lake, as I take it in, I can see the just-risen moon reflecting off of more water than I'd originally thought was there. This place is beautiful.

It takes me a moment to place the scent, but once it's there I realize exactly what is going on. Aldous' father is in that boat. I assume he must be giving him a proper sendoff, in a way that means the most to both of them.

My heart clenches, and he turns to me, and yes, he's been crying, his eyes are red and his face is pale, but he's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And he doesn't lash out, doesn't push me away, doesn't want me to leave.

His happiness that I'm there, his relief that his mate is near, is so precious, and I run to him.

When I shift and reach him, he leans against my chest, and I cradle his head against me, kissing his hair. I try not to look at the corpse in the boat, because that's his father, that's my father-in-law, a man that might have been saved had the packs acted sooner—had I actually been who I was supposed to be, no don't think like that, not now, later, there's no room for this right now.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, because I don't know what else to say, and I hope my voice can soothe him a little, at least.

"I didn't want to wake you...this is all so new to you...I didn't want to burden you with this..." His voice is so hoarse, so agonized.

I shake my head, planting more kisses in his hair. "You're not a burden to me," I say, firming my voice. "This might be new to me, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be here for you in your time of grief."

His arms encircle my back and our wolves snuggle against each other, his howling and whimpering in pain, mine licking her mate's fur, trying to comfort.

"Tell me about him," I say, even though it hurts. I deserve my pain, though.

Aldous is silent for a time, and then finally turns his head to face the boat, still embracing me. "He was a loving man," he says, hoarsely, then clears his throat. "I lost my mother young, and he should have died without her, but he fought it, for me. For the pack, because he was the alpha and he knew I wasn't ready to take on the responsibility yet. He didn't want me to be a young alpha like he'd been. So he managed to fight the bond, somehow. It's rare, that wolves can do that."

Shock ripples through me. When a wolf mates with another wolf, it's forever, not just in life, but in death, too. When a mated wolf dies, it tends to pull its mate into the afterlife, leaving the human body a dead shell behind.

In rare cases, though, wolves have been known to fight back, to stay, to choose to break the mate bond. This time, it was for love of his son, which was usually the case, a parent choosing to stay with their children.

I can't imagine what it must feel like to break a bond like that. We're only newly mated, and this is all very fresh, but the power knit between our souls is so strong...I don't think I could fight that for anything. I don't think I could willingly break it, and the thought of doing so feels like imagining cutting off a limb.

"He never remarried, though he took a lover here and there," he continues. "He was very focused on teaching me how to lead the pack. And as soon as I was able, I took the burden from him, so that he could relax, because I knew he just wanted to be done. I honestly thought he might die...finally be with my mother. But he stuck around." He swallows hard. "Now he's with her. It was selfish of me to want to save him, and I know he's at peace now, he's where he should have been all those years ago when he chose to stay but..." He shakes his head. "If I'd have known that I would get married someday, I would have done it sooner. I was so wrapped up in my own duties...and the Delacroix had spent generations killing their daughters...I never thought..." He's not finishing his sentences anymore, burying his face in my chest, but I understand.

If the Delacroix hadn't kept Lydia a secret for so long, then the Quinn pack could have made a marriage deal with them sooner, before the curse got too bad. It would have saved his father, and probably others, too. I can only hope that it will save everyone else, now.

"I'm trying to keep a strong face on for the pack, because they don't need to see how selfish I am." His voice is agonized again, and I press my hands against his cheeks, tilting his face up to look at me.

"You are not selfish," I say, as sternly as I possibly can. "Loving your father is not selfish. Giving him a chance at life is not selfish. You take care of your pack, and he was a part of that pack. If they are worth anything, then they know that you act not out of selfishness but love."

He stares up at me with shining eyes. "Where did you come from?" he asks, and I want to tell him so badly. I want to confess everything, but now is not the time, and I don't know if there ever will be a time. All I can do is take care of this amazing man and hope that I can maybe be worthy of him someday.

The words that almost come out of my mouth are I lost my mother young, too, but I stop myself just in time, because I can't tell him that. He thinks he met my parents, he thinks they saw me off to marriage.

"Can I help you?" I ask instead, motioning to the boat. "With whatever ritual you're doing?"

He nods. "My recent ancestors were pirates...but my distant ancestors were Vikings." He stands up, and he feels more whole now, more together. "He loved the ocean, and I can't take him all the way there, but at least I can give him a proper sendoff the old way, with water and fire."

Fire? I don't know anything about old Viking rituals, so I stand next to him, ready to follow his lead.

Aldous takes my hand, stepping towards the bow of the boat. We look down on his father, peacefully laying there, arms crossed over his chest. Two silver doubloons cover his eyes, and he's surrounded by flowers. They look similar to the ones that lined the path during the wedding ritual, and I wonder if they are the same ones. It would be smart instead of letting them die in the pots, and I'm proud that they're being repurposed for something so intimate and important.

The scent of the flowers thankfully overpowers the underlying stench of illness, but I ignore that, because it feels wrong to think of this man as a frail and ill old man. This is Aldous' father, the alpha of the alpha, a wolf strong enough to break his mate bond for love of his son. Maybe I'm selfish too, because I wish I could have met him. I wonder if he saw us marry, or if he was laid up, dying.

Aldous begins to speak in a language I've never heard before, and I wonder if it's old Norse, but I don't interrupt. It has a beautiful cadence, a rising and falling guttural lilt, almost like a song. Whether it's a prayer or words to his father, it thickens his voice with emotion, and I squeeze his hand.

Finally, he brings a match from his pocket, and strikes it on the edge of the boat. He brings the flame to a bundle of dry leaves, and once it's clear that everything in the boat is going to catch, he drops the match inside and wraps his hands around the edge of the boat, getting ready to push it out into the water.

He doesn't move, though, simply stares down at his father's eternally resting face.

I put one hand over his, and brace the other against the boat. "You can do this," I whisper, and he swallows hard again, and we push.

We hold each other as the fire overtakes the boat, sinking into the depths of the lake, bringing his father with it.

I don't know how long we stand there, but it's just as I'm about to ask him if we should go back when his whole body stiffens, and I feel panic through the bond.

"What is it?" I ask, my gut sinking to the ground.

"We need to get back," he says, and moves away from me to shift. "Someone else has died."