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Chapter Three

Jerome

THE FIRE caught quickly, flames licking toward the sky. A collective howl rose from the pack—an outpouring of sorrow and communal resolve that seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.

The fire burned brighter and higher, casting flickering shadows across all their faces. Worry mingled with grief. Tonight they were vulnerable in their mourning, but tomorrow they would rise again, stronger and more united than ever.

The ceremony continued into the night, songs sung in old tongues echoing through the trees, telling tales of valor and hardship—reminders that even in darkness there could be light.

And as Jerome watched over his pack—their faces illuminated by firelight—he understood truly what it meant for an alpha to lead, not just through strength but also through love.

The night waned, and as the last embers flickered in the dying fire, the pack slowly dispersed, leaving Jerome standing alone by the remains of the pyre.

The crisp air whispered through the trees, carrying away the ash and smoke, blending it into the dark sky. Jerome’s heart was heavy yet hopeful, a paradox for sure.

A twig snapped in the distance, but he ignored it. Probably a beta just checking on him. But he couldn’t smell them, thanks to the fire and the stench of a burning body.

He couldn’t smell anything but death.

Then everything faded and Jerome’s vision, rich and vivid, flickered before his eyes like the fire itself—once more there were images of that alpha standing tall and fierce against the rogue.

In his mind’s eye, Jerome saw a blonde alpha, his stance defiant, his eyes burning with a fierce resolve. He faced another alpha who was larger, and his hair was as dark as the night sky without stars.

Jerome’s heart pounded when the challenger spoke because he knew that voice. It was the same voice that had claimed the pack and him in his first vision.

“My name is Wesley Valentino. I challenge you, Elmer Woodhouse, for the position of alpha of the Cross Creek pack. This pack deserves leadership born from respect and unity, not fear and oppression,” Wesley declared.

Then he smiled at Jerome, and those dimples appeared. Jerome was positive his heart melted a little. The rogue snarled, baring sharp teeth, but Wesley stood undeterred.

Then the vision shifted—a clash as inevitable as thunder following lightning. The two collided with a ferocity that shook the very roots of Jerome’s soul. Wesley was a white wolf, something that shocked Jerome. He’d never seen an alpha of that color before.

Claws struck and teeth sought purchase where they could find it. Yet through it all, Wesley’s resolve did not waver—if anything, it burned brighter with every exchange.

Jerome watched this spectral battle unfold, and just like the previous vision, Wesley was attacked while fighting the other alpha—something that should not have happened.

Then there were only bodies strewn around the stone circle, like before, and Wesley, his gaze burning into Jerome. The vision ended as suddenly as it had begun, leaving Jerome back in the dying glow of the funeral pyre.

His breath stuttered out as he replayed what he’d seen in his mind. Worry engulfed him as the last logs succumbed to the embrace of flames. These visions concerned him. Trouble was coming for them, of that he had no doubt.

As Jerome finally turned away from the pyre site, his cloak swirled around him as he followed the forest path leading back home.

Wesley Valentino, Wesley Valentino. He repeated the name, hoping to imprint it upon his mind. It seemed to echo through the trees, a mantra of strength and determination.

The moon above bathed the world in a silver glow, casting long shadows that danced around him. As he walked, Jerome’s thoughts bounced around in his head.

Li Li’s death had left a void, and the threat of Elmer Woodhouse loomed large. Fear and oppression were not a way to lead a pack, especially one like theirs. Li Li had not treated members in such a way.

But this Elmer Woodhouse would. And if he treated pack mates that way, how would he treat Jerome?

Not good, that’s how.

As soon as Jerome got to the pack house, he needed to hunt down Henry and inform him about this vision. Again, it might not come to pass, but this was twice now he’d seen Alpha Valentino facing off with the rogue, and that in itself was troublesome.

As he stepped inside, he spoke Henry’s name. That would be enough to get his attention.

“In here.”

Jerome entered the large living area. Henry, who had been sitting by the hearth, quickly turned his head toward Jerome.

“What is it?” he asked immediately.

Jerome took a deep breath, steadying himself. The pack house, usually a hub of warmth and activity, felt cold tonight. “I’ve had another vision,” Jerome said, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was silly of him to act like speaking louder might make the vision come true faster, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“It was of that challenge and the two alphas.”

Henry’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Again? That’s the second time in less than twenty-four hours.”

“I know. And this time I remembered names.”

“Good! That’s good.” Henry got up and walked over to Jerome. He hugged Jerome quickly, then stood back. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

“I don’t want to, but we need to prepare, especially if what I saw comes to be.”

“I’m sorry to make you relive it.”

“I know.”

“Okay then, what are their names and what happened this time?”

“They were fighting in our stone circle in the moonlight. It was brutal.” Was it ever. “Wesley Valentino is the alpha who will declare a formal challenge for leadership against the rogue who… who—He’s the bad one. His name is Elmer Woodhouse.”

“Okay, okay, at least we have names now.”

Jerome paused, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting back to meet Henry’s worried look. “The pack might face dark times if Elmer gains control. Something tells me he rules with fear, not respect.”

“We need to prepare, then. If your visions are a sign of what’s coming, we can’t afford to be caught off guard, even if we can’t stop it.”

Jerome agreed. “I think it’s time we call the elders for a meeting. We need everyone on the same page and ready, just in case.”

“Agreed.” Henry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

Jerome opened his mouth to agree, but something within him argued they didn’t need to put this off. “Now. I think it needs to be done now, Henry.”

Henry stared at Jerome. “Shit. Really?”

“I feel like this can’t wait.”

“Shit. Okay.” Henry dragged his phone out of his pocket and started texting. “Give me thirty to forty-five minutes to get everybody here, then.”

“Sure.” Jerome watched Henry leave to text their elders.

He wandered over to the large window overlooking their territory. Their lands stretched far and wide under the moon’s glow. It was so serene out there.

Unfortunately, he was about to change that. They’d only just laid their alpha to rest, and here Jerome was about to drop more bad news into their elders’ laps.

That rogue fucking scared him witless.

Since that was getting him worked up, Jerome focused on Wesley, the image of him confronting Elmer fixed in Jerome’s mind. There was something undeniably powerful about Wesley, and it resonated with Jerome deeply.

It seemed like just a few minutes passed before the four elders trickled in for the hurriedly arranged meeting, and Jerome joined them. The room filled swiftly, the elders having varied expressions of concern and curiosity.

Once everyone settled down, Jerome cleared his throat and began recounting everything he had seen in his vision—the battle, Wesley’s challenge, and what it might mean for their future.

As Jerome spoke, the room was dead silent. Every elder listened intently to his story. They knew it was potentially their future playing out before them through Jerome’s eyes.

When he finished, there was an almost palpable cloud of tension in the room.

“We must be vigilant,” Elder Dillard finally said, breaking the silence. “And possibly even reach out to Alpha Wesley Valentino before this Elmer rogue gets here and consolidates his power. Do you think we can stop that from happening, Jerome?”

Everyone stared at Jerome.

“I don’t know. Has anybody even heard of this Alpha Valentino?” Jerome asked.

Everybody shook their heads no.

“So, we’d have to find him first, and that could very well be like hunting for a needle in a haystack,” Henry said.

“Plus, I honestly don’t know if we can stop what’s coming,” Jerome said.

He had a feeling nothing was going to stop the rogue from showing up and taking over. This time, he firmly believed the vision would come true.

“I simply do not see how this vision can come to pass, though,” Elder Rodgers said. “We’ve contacted the Council of Wolves, right?”

Henry nodded. “Yes. I did it myself. They know of our situation. They’re gathering names of appropriate alphas to send here to compete for alphaship. That’s standard.”

“Exactly. All interested alphas come here, and we hold a competition. The best alpha wins and becomes our alpha. It’s very unlikely some random rogue just shows up and takes over before the competition can even begin.

I mean, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since our alpha passed away,” Elder Rodgers said. “How could the rogue even know?”

“That’s true,” Jerome said. “Everything you said is true. But I know what I saw.”

Elder Rodgers rolled his eyes. “You’ve been wrong before.”

“Elder, I am never wrong,” Jerome said quietly. “Never.”

The silence remained unbroken as Jerome met each elder’s gaze. “Sometimes Fate steps in and changes the course of things. Or a person can choose another direction and their path changes.”

“That shouldn’t—” Elder Rodgers began.