Page 7 of Destined Mate (Cross Creek Pack of San DeLain)

Chapter Five

Jerome

“A WEEK?” Jerome squeaked. That would be next Wednesday evening.

“I tried to impress upon them the urgency—even told them about your vision—but they said they needed time to contact everyone and get the RSVPs,” Henry said. “Plus, the alphas need to make arrangements and get here.”

Jerome wrung his hands. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either, but according to the email I received, some of these alphas are coming from quite a distance,” Henry said. “It takes time to organize something like this. I’m impressed they gave the alphas only a week.”

“A lot can happen in a week.”

“Have you seen anything else?”

Jerome shook his head. “No.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“It’s not, actually.” Jerome gazed out the den window, his eyes on the horizon where the sun was slowly dipping below the edge.

The days were getting shorter. While some people didn’t like it getting darker sooner, Jerome relished the longer nights. It meant more time to lose himself as a wolf on the quiet, moonlit paths.

“How do you figure?”

“It means what I saw is still going to happen.”

“But that could change tonight if you have another vision. And we’re doing all that we can. I have patrols running twenty-four seven, and I’ve even pulled in our enforcers and some non-rank members to help with shifts.”

Cross Creek pack had three gamma enforcers—Poppy Smith, Damar Jackson, and Alfredo Sanchez, who they all called Al. The betas were Lakisha Cooper, Bay Ung-Jook, Jensen Hart, and Marcia Dillard.

Yes, thanks to Alpha Li Li, they had female betas and gammas who held rank. Not all packs did. The really hardcore traditional packs even refused to admit females could be born to a rank.

“It won’t be enough.”

“Maybe it will.”

“There has been no change in my visions. That’s not good, Henry.”

Henry ran a hand through his hair. “I could ask the council for protection. Maybe they’ll send some extra enforcers? But I doubt it, since the challenge is in a week.”

“A week. We just need to get through the week,” Jerome muttered. That was a hundred and sixty-eight hours. A lot could happen in that time. “Yeah, ask the council for help anyhow.”

“I’ll call now, but it’s after hours. Unless it’s an emergency, I doubt I’ll get a hold of anybody until tomorrow.”

“Then tell whoever answers the phone it’s a damn emergency!” Jerome exclaimed. “Why is no one taking this seriously?”

“Jerome, we are taking this seriously.” Henry swiftly went to Jerome and took his hands. “Taking you seriously. But even if the council sent enforcers, it’d still take them time to get here.”

“Dammit.”

“And would it matter if they even did? In your vision, you said you saw Alpha Wesley defeat the rogue.” Henry led Jerome over to the couch and pulled him down. “So far you haven’t had another vision showing you something different. You said that, right?”

“You’re right.” Jerome gently pulled his hands out of Henry’s.

“Then we pray to Fenrir.”

Jerome kept his mouth shut on that one, since his treatment throughout his life had solely tested his faith in their wolf god.

How could their god permit omegas to be regarded as possessions rather than as individuals with their own worth? Wasn’t each one of them crafted with equal importance and dignity in His divine image?

Others regarded Jerome merely as a commodity, something to be used and traded. No other wolf of rank received such treatment. Yeah, faith wasn’t a comfort to him as it was to some.

“Sure.” Jerome shrugged. “I don’t guess it could hurt. Anyway, I’m going to have dinner. Are you coming?”

“I’ll be there shortly. Let me make this phone call.”

Their pack house stood as the bustling heart of their community, a central gathering place teeming with life and activity. Alpha Li Li had expanded it, nearly doubling its size to accommodate the growing needs of their people.

The kitchen had undergone a remarkable transformation, evolving into a sprawling commercial-sized hub capable of feeding anyone who wished to stop by during designated hours.

The aroma of freshly cooked meals wafted through the air, inviting members to gather, share stories, and enjoy the camaraderie that the pack house had so warmly fostered.

It now boasted a gaming room filled with plush chairs and a variety of entertainment options, from classic board games to the latest video game consoles. On the opposite side of the house was a conference room with a huge homemade oak table that someone in their pack had crafted for Li Li.

The master bedroom was a sanctuary of comfort and authority, adorned with plush furnishings and personal touches that spoke of Li Li’s status.

Beyond that, there were empty bedrooms set up for guests or pack members who might choose to reside there temporarily. Each room was simple, yet welcoming. Most pack members, however, preferred the comfort of their own homes scattered throughout the territory.

The two Cross Creek enforcers were unmarried, so they lived at the pack house. Henry also lived there, but apart from them, no one else did.

After dinner, Jerome retired to the guestroom he was staying in. He just wanted to read for a while and forget everything. Outside his window, the moon hung low, a slender crescent that illuminated the grounds of the pack house.

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the pull of his wolf, urging him to shift and run. But tonight, he resisted. His mind was full of worry and fear. The vision of Alpha Wesley’s battle replayed endlessly whenever he closed his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, Jerome attempted to steer his thoughts elsewhere. He took a hot bath, the warmth soothing his tired body as tendrils of steam curled upward.

Once the tension in his muscles faded, he dried off, put on night pants, and settled into bed. It felt so odd not having someone next to him.

He picked up the latest science fiction novel, its crisp pages and vibrant cover promising adventures beyond the stars, and read, immersing himself in a world far removed from his own reality.

As he flipped through the chapters, the tales of alien civilizations and interstellar travel distracted him from present-day threats. Yet, every so often, his wolf’s senses prickled. He had no idea why his wolf was so uneasy.

Jerome’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting him back from a galaxy far away. Reluctantly, he set the book aside and checked the message.

Henry: Talked to the council. They don’t see the need to send anyone when there has been no legit threat posed by any alpha. I’m sorry.

Jerome responded, his fingers dancing across the screen with practiced ease before he tossed his cell phone onto the night table. It landed with a soft thud, a sound that echoed his frustration.

Of course they’d ignored his vision, dismissing him without a second thought. But he couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. He picked up his book again, but he couldn’t concentrate.

The characters and their cosmic dilemmas seemed trivial. With a resigned sigh, he placed the book back on his nightstand and extinguished the lamp.

Darkness swallowed the room, save for the moonlight sneaking through the curtains. Jerome closed his eyes and eventually fell asleep.

And once more, he found himself watching Wesley challenge Elmer in the circle for leadership. Anxiety gnawed in his gut. The scent of fear rode the air currents—metallic and sharp.

Suddenly, the figure of Alpha Wesley, his golden yellow eyes glowing in the moonlight, turned to Jerome and spoke, which was new. As the alpha vanished, Jerome heard the words “Hold on. I’m coming.”

Jerome woke with a start, gasping for air. His heart thrummed violently against his ribs and sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill in the room from the air conditioning.

The moonlight still filtered through the curtains, casting ghostly patterns across his bed as he sat there, trying to steady his breath and calm his racing thoughts. Okay, so he hadn’t been asleep long.

He got up and used the bathroom, washed his hands, then gulped some water from the sink. “What the hell was that?” Jerome whispered to his reflection.

Nothing good was the answer. He dropped back into the bed and fought to go back to sleep. But as he teetered on the edge of slumber, a faint rustling from outside pulled him back to alertness.

He lay still, listening intently. The rustling grew into discernible steps—cautious yet unmistakably deliberate. Every instinct screamed that something was amiss.

Without turning on any lights, Jerome slowly rose from his bed and crept toward the window. Peering through the curtains, he scanned the grounds bathed in moonlight but saw no one.

Then, at the periphery of his vision, a shadow moved swiftly across the open space between two trees.

Then another one.

And another.

Immediately on high alert, Jerome considered calling Henry but decided against it until he had more concrete evidence that this wasn’t just some pack members out for a late-night walk or teenagers sneaking around.

His wolf said that wasn’t it.

The larger of the three figures moved toward the direction of the pack house—cloaked entirely in black, with movements too tactical for any casual members or pups out during ungodly hours.

He texted Henry just as he heard the front door of the pack house bust open and a hair-raising howl filled the air. Shit, shit, shit, they were under attack. Again. He didn’t wait for a response from Henry—time was too precious now.

Slipping his cell into his pants, he sprinted out of his room, his feet barely touching the cold wooden floors. As he approached the den, there was another loud crash, followed by a series of growls and the distinct sounds of a scuffle—snarls, thuds, bodies slamming against walls. Shit breaking.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins with ferocious intensity.

What he saw halted him in his tracks. The living room was a scene of chaos: furniture overturned, pictures knocked off walls, shards of glass scattered across the floor.