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Veva, Sarina, and I stand on Kira’s front porch. Sarina has just knocked, and stands back, holding the bundle of flowers we’ve brought with us from my little garden.

Both Veva and Sarina were surprised to find out I had a flower garden outside the house. Veva kept glancing at me, her eyebrows raised, until I finally broke and laughed, “ What ?”

“Oh, nothing,” she’d joked, running her hand along my arm. “I just hadn’t pegged you as a flower garden kind of guy, that’s all.”

“I hope I can continue to surprise you,” I’d said, catching her off-guard. Pleasure coursed through me at the flush that spread over her cheeks. Like the way we used to flirt—me always catching her off-guard, turning things around on her when she least expected it.

Now, as we wait for someone inside to open the door, my body is still thrumming from the day—finding Oren earlier, taking him to a jail cell, Dorian staying behind to talk to him. Watching the casters— Veva —create the Amanzite from nothing. The power in that room was staggering.

The power of my mate is staggering.

“Come in!” Dorian appears at the door with one of the twins held loosely at his side. Lately, he’s gotten into the habit of holding his kids like Sarina holds books—tucked under arm, stacked haphazardly in her hands.

We file inside, and I catch Kira say Dorian, would you please put our son upright , with laughter in her voice. Then my sister appears—my father right behind her.

I knew he was going to be here tonight, and still it feels weird.

As though I don’t exist, my father steps into the room, clasping his hands together and addressing my mate.

“Veva,” he says, his face serious. “I’m trying not to be in the habit of dancing around things that are uncomfortable, and I’m sure you know that I’ve contributed to the…

attitude toward you and your mother in this pack.

I’ll no longer be participating in that kind of behavior, but I wanted to apologize to you in person for any harm I may have caused. ”

Behind his back, Kira stands with her mouth dropped open, eyes wide. This is not something I ever thought I’d see my father do. And yet, here he is.

“Thank you,” Veva says, her eyes scanning over him. Something in her expression seems to change, almost like she’s realized he’s telling the truth. “I hope you can find some peace, Kellen.”

His eyes widen at that, and he swallows hard, nodding and looking away.

“Alright,” Kira claps, laughing awkwardly. “Well, the pork chops are done, so should we…?”

“We should ,” Dorian says, sweeping out of the room, likely to deposit the boys elsewhere during the meal.

Five minutes later, we’re sitting around the table. The room smells like sage and apples, the pork chops still steaming in front of us, roasted potatoes and vegetables fragrant with herbs, a salad glistening under the light.

Kellen asks Sarina questions about her latest book. Kira tells a story about Noah, she and Dorian arguing about whether or not he was really saying Mom , or just hiccupping.

Halfway through the meal, Veva reaches for my hand under the table, and I hold it until it’s time to clear the dishes away.

***

“Good morning, everyone,” Dorian says, standing at the head of the table the next morning. “Thank you all for coming to this emergency council meeting. There are several new developments that we must discuss. The first being this—”

He pauses, reaches into the velvet pouch on the table, and takes out the synthetic Amanzite. When he sets it on the table, it’s with the full gravity of what this means.

“Emin tested this yesterday. It’s fully functional,” our alpha leader sounds almost out of breath.

“It means what you think it means—no more relying on trading for the stones. No more bartering and panicking. The incident from last year—in which someone stole nearly our entire supply of Amanzite—would have been easy to circumnavigate. This is a huge accomplishment, and we have to thank our excellent casters.”

Claire waves her hand. “Thank Veva,” she says, gesturing to her. Veva sits beside me, and her cheeks flush at the mention. Claire goes on, “It was her idea to involve a shifter, and her power that helped us to finally accomplish this.”

There’s some talking around the table, then it calms, and Dorian clears his throat.

“Our next order of business is a bit more serious. Guys—bring him in.”

The door opens, and Oren Blacklock comes shuffling into the room, bracketed on either side by a shifter. He’s bound at the ankles and wrists, but his eyes shine brightly as he looks around the room, taking it in.

“Yesterday late morning, Emin Argent and I were hunting along the southern border, and we encountered Oren Blacklock, son of Jerrod Blacklock.”

There’s an intake of air, general shuffling around. Discomfort. Aidan sits at the end of the table, and I watch as he sits up straighter, his back going rigid.

Oren Blacklock’s grandfather killed Aidan’s mother. I’m surprised the man still has his ass in that seat. I might not have that much restraint.

Silence falls through the room with one pointed look from Dorian, then he looks to the man standing before us. His black hair shines, his dark eyes covered with a heavy brow. This closely, I can make out the straight lines of his tattoos.

“As your alpha leader said, Jerrod Blacklock is my father.” He takes a moment to look between each person in the room, his eyes lingering on Aidan, widening slightly. Does he recognize him? Oren was surely only a baby when Aidan’s family was slaughtered.

Oren sets his jaw, continues, “I intend to kill him and take over as the leader of the Grayhide pack. My father is not fit to lead.”

Dorian tilts his head, as if to ask why Oren thinks that. Oren snorts, like it’s a pointless question, but goes on to explain.

“My father is addicted to several substances. His mental acuity has been declining for years, and now he’s leading our pack into ruin.

He verbally and physically abuses to my mother and sister.

More than that, he’s engaged in kleptocracy from the very beginning of his rule.

He steals from the pack funds, hoards food for himself, and does not have the interests of our shifters in mind. ”

“Okay,” Dorian says, leaning forward, pinning Oren with a stare. “What does that have to do with us? And why should we believe you?”

“You want my father dead, too, I’d imagine.

What’s your death count along the border from the past ten years?

” Oren cocks his head, then says, “I already know. It’s higher than you want.

There are shifters in this pack grieving the loss of their loved ones as a direct consequence of my father’s rule. And that includes you, Fields.”

The reference to the death of his grandfather doesn’t ruffle Dorian.

“As for why you should believe me—don’t.

I’m willing to partake in any truth testing you can do.

Ask your casters to bind me in a contract, dose me with truth serum.

But I assure you that partnering with me is the correct move.

My father may be a poor excuse for an alpha leader, but I’ve been preparing for the role since I was born.

Through my tutelage of his leadership, I have seen everything to do differently. ”

“Again, Blacklock, what is it that you need from us?”

“The tradition is to engage in a one-on-one duel to the death for the alpha leader position, as I’m sure you’re aware of.

” Oren pauses, and his gaze falls on me.

He has the speaking tendencies of a leader—engaging each person in the room.

“My father will never agree to a duel with me. In fact, if he had been cognizant enough to realize I planned to dissent, he never would have let me leave the territory alive.”

At this, Oren’s eyes move to Aidan, who sits completely still, his expression unreadable.

“Proven by your attendance at this meeting,” Oren says, something like appreciation flickering over his features, “my father went to great lengths to ensure your death. In fact, he has your head sitting in our home.”

That makes Dorian laugh, and Oren cracks a dry smile, going on, “In exchange for information and a future allyship between our packs, I request assistance in confronting my father with a duel. Once I get him, one-on-one, and know that nobody will interfere, I can kill him quickly.”

“You can take him back,” Dorian says to the shifters, who turn an start to escort Oren from the room. He holds his head high as he goes, and Dorian turns to address us, meeting my gaze. “As you can all see, there’s a lot for us to discuss.”