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WHITLOCK brOTHERS

Z ane pinched the bridge of his nose as he ended the call. Three hours of negotiations with the Hawkins Clan about oil pipeline permissions, and all he had to show for it was a migraine and the sudden urge to ban the phrase “but that’s how we’ve always done it” from New Vale’s vocabulary.

His fingers unconsciously traced the already-healed marks on his neck. Even hours later, he could still feel the phantom sensation of Luca’s fangs, still smell his transformed scent—cherry blossoms and moonlight where once there was only subtle vanilla and old books.

Bears. Always so damn stubborn. Though right now, even Colt Hawkins’ drawling demands couldn’t distract him from the memory of this morning.

“With all due respect, Alpha Whitlock,” Colt had drawled, “these pipelines have run through pack territory since my granddaddy’s granddaddy’s time.”

Yes, and your granddaddy’s granddaddy probably thought indoor plumbing was witchcraft , Zane had wanted to say. Instead, he’d maintained his perfect alpha composure and explained—for the fifth time—why modern environmental regulations required rerouting certain sections.

His wolf, usually so focused during clan business, kept circling restlessly, replaying the morning’s…

incident. One moment he’d been reviewing quarterly reports in his garden sanctuary, catching an unfamiliar scent that made his beast purr with contentment.

The next, a vampire prince had landed in his lap like some kind of adorable assassin.

Luca— his Luca —who’d spent years hiding behind doors and columns, who flinched from physical contact, who’d never shown the slightest interest…

He’d felt impossibly small in his arms, warm and soft and right . His wolf had practically howled with satisfaction when those fangs pierced his skin. The beast that had slumbered contentedly for years suddenly wanted to wrap around him, protect him, claim him…

He’s your brother , he reminded himself sternly. Adopted, but still…

His office in Whitlock Tower—all glass, steel, and spectacular views of New Vale’s skyline—felt suddenly confining. The council meeting would start in an hour, where he’d have to face not just the bears, but eleven other clan heads, each with their own agendas and millennia-old grudges.

And all he could think about was the way Luca had looked at him afterward, those lavender eyes wide with confusion and something else, something that made his wolf want to…

Focus.

He reached for his phone. “Ryker. Find our baby brother before he tries to convince the library carpet to adopt him. Again.”

“Already done,” Ryker’s dry voice came through. “He was using that invisibility charm the Satos gave us for Christmas.”

“The one we were supposed to use for clan security ?”

“That’s the one. Though watching him try to explain to Lady Sato why he used ancient fox magic to hide from a budget meeting last month was… entertaining. Especially when she threatened to turn him into an actual fox for disrespecting ancestral magic.”

“The Bentley,” Zane decided, pushing away thoughts of lavender eyes and delicate fangs. “We’ll take the Bentley to Council Hall.”

“Not the Rolls? The Kingston Clan just unveiled their new Phantom. Isaiah Kingston will be insufferable if we show up in anything less. Still preening about his new record label’s collaboration with the Parks.”

“The Bentley has better leg room for when we have to drag Archer out from whatever hiding spot he finds. Last time?—”

“The Ming vase incident,” they said in unison.

“Which is why the Chengs now have force fields around their antiques.” Zane allowed himself a small smirk.

“Though watching their young duke try to explain to his grandmother why her priceless dynasty relic was full of wolf shifter was almost worth the diplomatic incident. Especially when she started throwing fireballs and cursing in ancient Mandarin.”

A muffled “I heard that!” came through the phone, presumably from Archer.

“That vase was asking for it! Do you know how many council meetings I’ve had to sit through where old Lady Wei Cheng brags about her ancestor’s pottery collection?

Besides, have you seen today’s agenda? The Bellini Clan wants to expand their beach resort into Kingston territory—again.

Something about premium sunset views being wasted on music studios. ”

“The meeting, Archer.” Zane checked his reflection in the window, adjusting his silver tie. Perfect, as always. The alpha of the Whitlock Clan couldn’t show up to council looking anything less. “Don’t make me use the alpha voice, baby brother.”

Zane strode through the executive floor of Whitlock Tower, his presence commanding immediate attention.

Shifters had a natural hierarchy, and he was apex—every wolf in the building knew it.

Staff members bowed their heads respectfully as he passed, their wolves automatically submitting to their alpha.

The scent of submission and respect filled the air, a familiar comfort he usually enjoyed.

Today, however, it felt hollow compared to the lingering memory of cherry blossoms and moonlight.

The main office space sprawled before him, a sea of suits and shifting energies.

Wolves from every pack in his clan worked here, their combined presence creating an atmosphere of controlled power.

Floor-to-ceiling windows bathed everything in natural light—wolves didn’t do well in cramped, dark spaces.

Modern art pieces adorned the walls, while strategic touches of silver and crystal—a nod to their clan emblem—reminded everyone whose territory this was.

And yet , his wolf mused, none of it feels as interesting as that beautiful vampire who invaded our garden this morning.

The private elevator recognized his presence, doors sliding open silently. He’d insisted on security measures that would make the Lionheart Clan’s divine fortifications look relaxed, but right now, his mind kept drifting to how easily Luca had slipped past them all.

The underground garage was his sanctuary—classic cars lined up like soldiers, each one perfect, pristine, and…

“Is that dirt on your shoes, Archer?”

His youngest brother lounged against the Bentley, looking like he’d just rolled through the library’s rare manuscript section. His golden hair was tousled, his designer shirt half-untucked, and yes—those were definitely carpet fibers on his loafers.

“The Persian rug and I had a very deep conversation.” Archer grinned, that infamous dimple appearing. “Did you know it was woven during the Ming Dynasty? Very philosophical, that rug.”

Ryker, already holding the driver’s door open, raised an eyebrow. “The Ming Dynasty was Chinese, not Persian.”

“Details, details. The point is?—”

“The point is,” Zane cut in, “you look like you’ve been dragged backward through the Sato Clan’s zen garden. Fix the shirt. Brush off the shoes. And for Moon’s sake, do something about that hair.”

“But the messy look is in! The Park Clan’s newest idol group?—”

“The Park Clan isn’t representing the most powerful wolf pack in New Vale at today’s council meeting.”

Ten minutes and several grooming arguments later, they were finally on the road.

The car merged onto New Vale’s Magical Transit Network—MTN, where their enhanced vehicle automatically switched to supernatural drive.

These crystal-powered sky bridges, suspended high above the city, offered breathtaking views of New Vale’s sprawling districts and served most of the city’s ever-growing population of five hundred million.

At speeds of up to six hundred miles per hour, what would normally be a two-hour cross-city journey became a comfortable thirty-minute cruise.

“Engaging supernatural drive,” the car’s AI announced as crystal-powered engines hummed to life.

Ryker settled back as magical autopilot took over, the crystalline lanes sparkling with ward magic.

Far below, the Underground Transit System (UTS) handled the city’s freight and deliveries, while up here, citizens enjoyed panoramic views of their supernatural metropolis.

The morning commute filled the MTN’s multiple lanes, as supernatural beings made their way to work in magically enhanced vehicles.

Zane focused on his tablet, reviewing the meeting agenda while watching their territory fall away.

The Whitlock district’s financial hub, with its gleaming towers and powerful wards, gave way to the artistic spires of Kingston territory, then the traditional architecture of the Cheng Clan’s domain.

In the distance, Council Hall rose above Central District, its ancient magic a beacon even from miles away.

In the back seat, Archer had started humming what sounded suspiciously like the latest Park-Kingston collaboration single.

“So.” Archer’s voice cut through the comfortable silence. “Is it just me, or was Luca acting weird today?”

Zane’s fingers tightened on the tablet. In the driver’s seat, Ryker’s shoulders tensed slightly.

“I mean, he was actually in the library. Using it, not just hiding in it,” Archer continued, frowning slightly. “And when I helped him up after the ladder incident, he didn’t immediately bolt. That’s… different, right?”

“Council meeting,” Zane said firmly, ignoring how his wolf perked up at the mentioning of Luca. “Focus on the agenda.”

“But—”

“The Hawkins pipeline issue needs resolution. The Bellini-Kingston territory dispute?—”

“Fine, fine.” Archer sighed dramatically, slumping back against the leather seats. “But something’s different. I just can’t put my finger on what.”

The Bentley glided through downtown New Vale, passing from Whitlock territory into the neutral zone where Council Hall stood. Ancient magic thrummed beneath the pavement here, old treaties and stronger powers than even alpha wolves keeping the peace.