Cooper looked away from Dean and studied his own feet as they approached the next exhibit. They’d lagged farther and farther behind as they’d spoken, and the others were already disappearing down the American Trail with some speed, Cayla eager to see the sea lions’ feeding.
He wasn’t sure he could explain how he felt. Not even to himself, never mind to his brother, for whom life had always been fairly, well, straightforward. But Dean was looking at him with such genuine curiosity and patience, his dark eyes so like those of their mother’s, that Cooper had to give it a try.
“I’m excited to be married. I’m not excited to get married,” he said finally, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Every time I think about it and try to settle on some kind of plan, I feel...guilty.”
Dean looked confused.
“Guilty that we’re doing it all for me,” Cooper explained. “That if it was Oliver and another—and someone else like him, they wouldn’t be doing any of this at all.”
“Because werewolves don’t get married,” Dean said.
“Keep your voice down,” Cooper said, glancing around, a tad uncomfortable, but the only person around was a lone woman with a peroxide blond buzz cut standing a good thirty feet away at the next exhibit. Even as he eyed her, she turned her back to them and walked swiftly away.
“I was aiming for a little more discretion,” Cooper murmured, watching her disappear down the trail. “But yeah, that. I know Oliver wants to be helpful, but he just keeps looking at me like ‘this was your idea, this is your kind’s ritual, what do we do now?’ And I don’t have a clue, because before I met him, I never once thought about it. I never once imagined this would be my life. But now this guy who doesn’t give a shit about marriage has agreed to marry me because he loves me, so I better think of something good. I keep researching weddings, but most of the blogs and articles and goddamn mood boards aren’t made for me either. No brides here. Groom’s party? I don’t have two friends to rub together. Choose a location significant to your relationship? Most of ours are crime scenes.”
Cooper realized his voice had steadily gotten louder and more panicked. He took a deep, steadying breath. Then another.
“Everyone wants their wedding to be perfect,” Dean said gently. “But they never are. And that’s okay. Just make a couple of romantic gestures and keep the alcohol flowing and it will be fine.”
Cooper shook his head. Maybe that was true for Dean and lots of other people, too. But Cooper didn’t have that luxury. Whether he wanted it to or not, Park agreeing to marry him was making a statement. This is what Park was choosing instead of another wolf. A human ritual tying him to a human. People were going to notice. People were already starting to take notice.
The thought of trying to explain that to Dean was exhausting, though, so Cooper let it go. “I’m just not cut out to be the center of attention like that,” he said instead.
Dean snorted, a loud, disbelieving sort of sound. “One of these days you’re going to have to accept you’re really not the shrinking wallflower you claim to be,” he said mysteriously as they walked up to the next animal exhibit.
Cooper frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dean didn’t answer, just buried his hands in his pockets and shook his head as if chastising himself for speaking.
“Seriously,” Cooper added. “I’m not trying to fight—what do you mean by that?”
“Seems like a lot of people spend a lot of time bending over backward to make you happy, Coop.” Dean shrugged. “Maybe sometimes it’d be kinder to let them.”
Stunned, Cooper opened his mouth to protest, but Dean cut him off. “Look, forget I said anything. You’ve obviously got a lot going on and I wasn’t trying to make light of that. If there’s something I can do to help, just let me know, okay?”
Then, to Cooper’s shock, Dean reached out, pulled him into a half hug and ruffled his hair. “But for now, try not to worry quite so much, huh?”
Cooper nodded, still processing, and Dean moved toward the next animal exhibit. “Speak of the devil.”
Letting him change the subject, Cooper glanced at the informational placard and realized they had made their way to the zoo’s wolf enclosure. A low metal railing indicated the end of the pavement and a few feet past that, an extremely tall chain-link fence cordoned off the habitat itself—nothing more than a smallish dirt hill that curved out of sight behind strategic greenery. Probably disguising where the zookeepers came in and out. There were a couple of trees on the hill and some artfully placed rocks, but that was it. Honestly, it looked more than a little depressing for an animal whose natural territory could be more than a thousand square miles in the wild. But the morality of zoos was complicated, and frankly, Cooper didn’t know nearly enough about the subject as a whole, this zoo in particular, or what had brought this specific wolf into captivity to voice an opinion one way or another.
They spotted the animal of the hour quickly enough. It was hard to miss, sat somewhat daintily under the tree, watching them. It certainly looked healthy, anyway. Its pitch-black fur was almost absurdly shiny, and it looked sturdy in size and exponentially more alert than the beavers had. In fact, Cooper felt pretty confident it was studying them, making note of every small movement.
“It says here there should be a single female gray wolf,” Dean said, reading out loud.
“Doesn’t look gray to me,” Cooper said, comparing the wolf to the illustration on the placard.
“No, I think she’s that one.” Dean pointed to a second wolf that Cooper hadn’t seen. It was a good deal smaller, had dirty, whitish fur, and seemed super tense. Crouched down in the very back of the exhibit, practically curled up to the fence, all of her attention was focused on the black wolf.
“It says gray wolves can be any color. Typical scientific tomfoolery,” Dean went on. “But it doesn’t mention the big guy. He must be new.”
Cooper hummed an acknowledgment, but couldn’t tear his eyes from the black wolf. Admittedly, he couldn’t say the last time he saw a wolf that was an actual animal and not a werewolf in fur, but he didn’t remember them looking this...aware. Knowing.
“What’s wolf language for come closer and introduce yourself, please?”
“Don’t be a dick,” Cooper said.
“What? Doesn’t Oliver ever get furry around you?”
“Sure. And miraculously he doesn’t lose the ability to understand English.”
“I didn’t say he did!” Dean protested. “But doesn’t he, you know, communicate as a wolf, too? I mean, he’s not just a human who happens to turn into a wolf a la Lon Chaney Jr., is he? He’s a fully different species—oh, forget it. Never mind.” He clicked his tongue and pitched his voice a little higher. “Come here, cutie. Come here.”