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ask a question?” Drew said in a tone that had everyone around the table going, “No.”
    Ignoring the sound negative response, he said, “Where the hell is Bastien?”, naming the eldest of Mercy’s brothers. “He swore to me this afternoon that he’d be point man on DarkRiver’s end if I took SnowDancer.”
    Showing impeccable timing, all three of Mercy’s siblings walked in that very second to pull up chairs around the already crowded table. “No trust,” Bastien said with a sigh. “Such a sad, sad world.” A shake of his head. “And this after I recruited these two”—nodding at his younger brothers—“to be our minions.”
    Drew snorted. “I have Indy and Brenna. My mate and sister leave those two scrawny cubs in their dust.”
    “Back to the point,” Nate said as one of the six-feet-tall “scrawny cubs” threatened to beat Drew dead, then went to raid the cookie jar with the ease of a packmate who’d been in and out of this house since he truly was a cub. “Ideas for the celebration?”
    It was Hawke who came up with the winner. “Riley loved that trip he took with Mercy to Rio for Carnaval.”
    “Carnaval themed party?” Dorian’s teeth slashed white against tanned gold skin. “It’s perfect—especially since Riley’s no longer holding a grudge against the South American cats who came sniffing around while he was courting Mercy.”
    The blond sentinel’s statement was echoed around the table, and with the theme set in stone, Drew and Bastien parceled out tasks.
    “Done,” Bas said ten minutes later, and the game resumed…to leave Drew and Nate as the sole survivors after the others folded with muttered imprecations about the blue-eyed wolf’s luck.
    “Time to show and tell.” Drew fanned out his cards and proved he hadn’t been bluffing. “Full house.” A grin. “Your poor sad face informs me I’m about to go home a happy, happy man. Thank you very—”
    Leaning forward with a slow smile, Nate laid out a hand that would make the angels themselves weep. Drew groaned and fell back, while the others around the table hooted, wolf and leopard in harmony—Riley’s brother had fleeced the lot of them.
    “One more game.” Rolling up the sleeves of his checkered shirt, Bastien picked up the cards to deal the next round. “I feel lucky.”
    The other man was shuffling the cards when Nate heard a suspicious whisper from the doorway to the kitchen. “Julian. Roman. In here now.”
    His sons, both in sky-blue pajamas patterned with racing cars, feet bare, sidled over to stand beside his chair, heads ducked. He wasn’t fooled. Only this afternoon, the four-and-a half-year-olds had decided to coat each other in mud they’d dyed red using food coloring filched from the pantry, and he’d had to hose down the demons while they laughed like maniacs. “I thought I put you two to bed.” Tamsyn had gone to spend some time with a packmate who was pregnant with her first child, leaving him in charge of the twins.
    “I was thirsty,” Julian said, meek stance forgotten as he tried to crane his neck to see the poker table.
    “And I’m hungry,” Roman added.
    “I saw you eat half a chicken an hour ago.” Reaching out, Nate poked at his boy’s stuffed belly, got a giggle.
    By this time, Julian had wiggled his way between Nate and Bastien and had his hands on the edge of the table, standing on tiptoe to peer at the game. His leopard giving a feline grin, Nate rubbed at Jules’ hair, then pulled Rome up onto his lap and down over the other side, so he could copy his brother’s position between Nate and Lucas. “We have two new players.”
    To the boys’ wide-eyed delight, Bastien dealt them in. Taking the cards, both his cubs shifted closer to him, their bodies warm and small against his own. “Daddy?” Julian whispered, pointing at the neat pile of chips in front of him. “Do I put those in the middle?”
    Nate looked at his son’s cards, advised him to call. Jules did so with a