Page 46

LUKAS

Montana

Two days later

L ukas sat alone—for now—on the edge of the curved, red velvet couch that was prominently positioned at the center of his den.

Heavy carmine curtains covered the windows. The walls were paneled in dark mahogany, and the warm ivory carpet beneath his bare feet was soft and lush. It should have been a comfortable sanctuary. But it wasn’t.

Maybe that was because of the game on TV. Four days ago, the Spriggans had lost to Kansas City. Right now, they weren’t doing any better against the Greensboro Goblins, despite their talented roster and being back on home ice.

Or maybe his agitation was the result of his father’s own domain being right next door—a looming shadow of his imminent future.

Another alternative: the council members who lived in the smaller dens surrounding him felt less like clan mates who had his back and more like sentries intent on locking him in.

It might have been unfair to think of his future council as the enemy.

After all, living in close proximity helped solidify the clan’s bond to its alpha while allowing the government to run at peak efficiency.

It was important for an alpha to quickly gather his advisors whenever matters of clan administration, finance, or defense arose.

Like all potential heirs, Lukas had received government training in his youth, but he’d hoped he’d never have to use any of that knowledge. As a teen, he’d preferred to focus on his body, honing his athletic skill, and looking for a path out of the place that now had him trapped.

Lukas glanced away from the TV to the tablet resting on his knee.

Its screen displayed the upcoming week’s itinerary.

There were meetings, more fittings, and a consultation with the clan’s chef to ascertain his favorite foods.

Certain events, however, were highlighted in bold: Installment, Presentation, and Coronation Banquet.

And then…it would be done. He would be alpha.

A roar went up from the TV, and his gaze shot to it. The score was currently tied, 1-1, but based on the level of play, it shouldn’t have been that close. The Goblins had twice as many shots on goal, and the pressure was mounting on Bjorn, who looked positively twitchy in the net.

If only Lukas was there. If only he could contribute. Being a spectator was annoying as hell because, with every shot, his body twitched with the muscle memory of the game.

He leaned forward as Rogue got the puck and took it up the ice. He shot. It went wide, and the crowd groaned.

The camera panned the scene, and for the millionth time, Lukas scanned the crowd for Elli .

Still no glimpse of her, and?—

Someone knocked on the heavy, iron-studded door.

Lukas muted the TV, then turned over the back of the couch to yell, “Come in!”

Hamish, his father’s private secretary, strolled in. The man was tall, lean, and graying at the temples. He carried a slim, leather-bound book under his arm.

“Good evening, sir.” Hamish clicked his heels and made a slight bow.

“You too?” Lukas asked on a weary sigh. “You’ve known me since the day I was born, and I’m not even alpha yet. You don’t have to call me sir .”

“Yes, sir,” Hamish said, and a small smile played at the corners of his lips.

Lukas shook his head. It was a losing battle. “What is it? Another fitting?”

He picked up his tablet, thinking he must have missed an appointment, but there was nothing there.

“Is there anything more that requires fitting?” Hamish asked, his tone surprised.

Lukas scoffed. “They’ve measured my feet for socks. I don’t care if I never see another tailor for as long as I live.”

“Quite the opposite of your father,” Hamish said.

It wasn’t a censure of either Lukas or his father, simply a statement of fact. While Gray Bakken lived by the human adage that the clothes made the man, Lukas had other ideas about a man’s character. Though, he admitted, he’d recently fallen short of his own ideals.

A sudden flurry of movement on the television had Lukas jumping to his feet. He prowled closer to the screen with Hamish coming up behind him.

“I knew hockey could be a brutal sport,” Hamish said, “ but I thought the antagonism was supposed to be directed at the other team.”

“It is.” Lukas took his phone from his pocket, preparing to call—who exactly? Everyone who’d know what was going on was either on the ice or not speaking to him.

“Then what am I looking at?” Hamish asked.

“Not sure.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I didn’t see what triggered it.”

All he knew was there weren’t two different-colored jerseys at the center of the fray. In fact, the entire Greensboro team was hovering around its own bench while the Spriggans went at each other , fists flying. What the hell?

Lukas grabbed onto the edges of the screen, as if he could help the refs pull his teammates apart.

It took several more seconds before the Spriggans had retreated to their bench, and Lukas took a few steps back, still stunned.

“Um…” Hamish maneuvered himself between Lukas and the television, stealing his attention from whatever the hell was happening at the game. “I did have a purpose for interrupting you, sir.”

Lukas clenched his teeth. “Hamish, I get that you’re used to a certain level of formality with my father, but once we’re working together, we’re going to have to come up with a different style.”

“When we’re working together?” Hamish asked. His head tipped to the side.

“When you’re my secretary.” Lukas strode toward the wet bar and opened a half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Drink?”

Hamish shook his head. “I’m not going to be your secretary. ”

Lukas paused with the bottle half tipped over a glass. “You’re not?”

Hamish narrowed his eyes. “Of course not.”

“I didn’t realize.” Lukas poured, then drank the whiskey down in one gulp. He hadn’t planned on picking a new secretary. Did this mean he’d have to hand-pick a brand new council too?

“I retire with Gray,” Hamish explained. “One of your contemporaries is coming in to handle your appointments.”

“One of my contemporaries?” Lukas glanced at the television. The game had resumed, though Tuttle and Brass were both in the penalty box. “You mean someone’s already been selected?”

“You recall Corbin Knight?” Hamish asked.

Lukas’s whole body jerked. Corbin?

Corbin Knight was one of Lukas’s many half-brothers and another potential heir to the alpha’s seat. The main difference between them: Corbin had been gunning for the job since he hit puberty, but Lukas had the face to attract the daughters of would-be allies.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Lukas said. “Who chose him?”

“Your father, of course.”

“But…he knows Corbin and I—” Lukas shook his head and poured himself another drink. Obviously his father was trying to make the transition as painful as possible. Punishment for Lukas putting him off for so long?

“Do you have a problem with Corbin?” Hamish asked.

“ I don’t have a problem with him,” Lukas growled, “but he’ll sure as hell have a problem serving as my secretary. This should be his den.”

“No, it shouldn’t. ”

“Well, he always wanted it to be!” Lukas said, forcing a laugh. This whole thing was nuts.

Hamish pursed his lips. “Maybe for a minute.”

Lukas scoffed. Obviously, Hamish didn’t know Corbin.

Hamish took the book out from under his arm and set it on the couch cushion. “Did you know that I could have ended up sitting in your father’s seat?”

“You?” Lukas asked. He’d never pictured anyone but his father as alpha. The man embodied the role.

“I was an heir,” Hamish said. “Still am, I suppose.”

Lukas struggled to get a read on what Hamish was saying. “Did you want to be alpha?”

“I suppose I did,” Hamish said wistfully. “The job sounds good on paper, but it’s taxing in myriad ways. I prefer my life.”

Lukas realized, for as long as he’d known his father’s secretary, he really didn’t know anything about him. “What is your life?”

Hamish’s eyes sparked with pride, his wolf showing through.

“I’m mated. Amelia and I have three pups.

All grown now, of course. What I’m trying to tell you is that if Corbin is jealous of you now, he’ll get over it once he discovers his own life is out there, waiting for him. Now…my purpose for interrupting you.”

“Sorry,” Lukas said, making another quick glance toward the television. Nothing more seemed to be amiss on the ice. “I keep getting us sidetracked.”

Hamish gave him a sympathetic smile, then pointed to the book he’d set on the couch. “Your calendar.”

“Calendar?” Lukas asked. “I have one on my tablet already.”

“Your digital calendar is accessible to everyone on your council and contains all administrative matters. Gray preferred his social calendar to be more discrete. I assumed you’d like the same?”

“Oh. Sure,” Lukas said, though he didn’t know why it mattered.

The females from other clans weren’t smuggled through the back door under cloak of night.

In fact, over the years, he’d personally witnessed hundreds of females being escorted into his father’s den.

Some at the end of their fertility, others newly into it.

None of them coerced. Some of them even made a spectacle of themselves—full of pomp and circumstance.

Still, all of it made Lukas’s stomach turn. He wondered what Elliette was doing right now. He’d been searching the stands as much as he’d been watching the game, and he hadn’t been able to spot her.

This wasn’t a huge surprise. Now that he’d cost Elli her job, she didn’t have as much reason to attend games. Still, he’d hoped. He thought, maybe, the sight of her would bring him some peace. Especially if her friends were with her.

“I was bringing the book to Corbin,” Hamish explained. “It’ll be his job to schedule appointments. But I thought you might want to see it before I handed it over.”

“Thanks,” Lukas said, and a sour taste surged into his mouth.

“Are you all right?” Hamish asked.

“Fine.”

“We have high hopes for you, Lukas. You’ve always been very popular. We’ve missed you since you left.”

“We?” Lukas asked.

“The entire clan. Your father most of all.”

Lukas snorted. “No offense. But somehow I doubt that.”

Lukas sat on the couch, opened the book to the middle, and found it was covered in seven columns and five rows of blank squares.

“It’s uh…” He turned a few more pages and frowned, confusion and hope simultaneously rising. “The dates are all empty. I have no appointments.”

Hamish chuckled warmly. “Don’t look so offended. The first two months are filled. We don’t usually schedule more than a couple months ahead.”

Lukas flipped to the front of the book, and his blood chilled. Each entry included a name, short bio, and a passport-style headshot. The first: Ingrid. Age 25. Clan ?sterdahl. Bachelor of Science: Chemistry .

She was Elli’s opposite in every way: short blond hair that grazed her jawline rather than the long chestnut waves that plagued his dreams. Her eyes were pure sky blue—not hazel flecked with gold—and her bone structure was angular with barely a hint of softness.

Finally, judging by her chemistry degree, she probably didn’t have Elli’s way with words either.

Maybe all of these differences were a good thing.

“Ingrid?” Lukas asked, hoping he’d be given more information than what a photo, name, age, and degree provided.

“Oldest daughter of the ?sterdahl alpha. She is most eager to make your acquaintance.”

Lukas nodded slowly in resignation as he glanced over the twenty other headshots that were scheduled for the next two months. This was his life now. And it started in less than ten days.