Page 14

R owan

The next night, I have to force myself to go through the motions of my responsibilities with the Greenbriars, when all I really want to do is focus on doing what I can to protect Alina and my son.

I meet with my father to confirm all is well on our own borders, confirm with various Betas that patrols have been running smoothly, and meet briefly with the elders to make sure that no community complaints have arisen in the past couple of days.

It’s the bare minimum of what I should be doing as their future Alpha, but for now, I have bigger priorities.

When I’m free from my duties, I hop in my truck and drive north to the shared border between my land and Whiterose territory.

Leaving my vehicle parked inconspicuously on the side of a dirt road that skirts the boundary between our packs, I slip out into the cool night, shuck off my clothing, and shift into wolf form.

As my body morphs and my senses sharpen, it becomes even more apparent that spring is dawning on this region with all the subtlety of a battering ram. There is so much moisture in the air, and the tickling presence of pollen is already dense, suggesting that we’ll have early blooms this year .

Automatically, I think of Alina and her lilac scent. Alina and her little garden in front of the house. Alina and her flowery perfume, her springtime freshness.

Right now, however, I can’t afford to be distracted.

Digging my paws into the damp soil, I shake out my fur and breathe in deeply.

There isn’t much wind tonight—nothing more than a gentle breeze rustling the shadowy leaves, but that will work in my favor.

It will make my targets a little more difficult to locate, but it will also help to mask my own scent.

I start running west, keeping to the Greenbriar edge of the border. Yet, even as I remain on my own land, I make sure to open my senses to any sign of patrolling Whiteroses.

Since the small altercation that occurred between our packs a couple of weeks ago, you’d think that they’d want to be vigilant along this part of their border, but it seems that Henry Whiterose hasn’t declared it necessary.

In fact, I’m beginning to question why my father respects the Whiterose Alpha so much. The old man doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything at all for his people.

But it’s not my pack, and therefore none of my business.

Or rather, it would be none of my business if Alina and Noah weren’t currently residing in their territory.

I need to find a way to convince Alina to come home. As I run through the forest, free and wild and undeterred by any other shifters, I try to puzzle through it.

At first, I thought that Noah’s needs would be enough to convince Alina to bring him to Greenbriar territory.

He’ll need me and his grandfather to help him through his first few shifts as a young Alpha.

It’s his destiny to lead the pack one day.

Sure, he could form his own, as Alina suggested, but the mere thought of allowing my heir to branch off like that instead of claiming his own birthright makes my skin crawl.

Not only that, but the primal side of my heart and soul that takes over when I’m in this body grows furious at the suggestion that my flesh and blood won’t rule one day.

The beast within is also enraged over the fact that I haven’t repaired the bond with Alina, and the spite has begun to take shape as a dull ache in my chest that I carry around with me whether I am wolf or human.

The problem is that Alina has a very different opinion about what Noah needs.

She doesn’t see the Greenbriar pack as family, as home.

I understand now that it would be difficult for her to find comfort in her own people.

After all, she’s spent the past decade believing that she has the power to destroy them because, according to Kseniya, she has the power to ruin me.

In her eyes, Noah doesn’t need them. He needs to be normal and happy and safe.

He needs his mother by his side, not relegated to a distant safehouse on the edge of the territory.

He needs to grow up not knowing what it’s like to carry the weight of a hundred or so fates on your shoulders. That’s what she believes.

So, basically, arguing what I think Noah needs isn’t the key to bringing Alina home.

Instead, I’ve resigned myself to the truth that Alina will only be triggered into action if she has absolutely no other option. Which means that I need to prove to her that the Blackburns are an imminent, unavoidable threat.

Hence the run that I’m currently on.

After a few miles, I reach the part of the Greenbriar borderlands where our territory tapers off into straggling tendrils at the base of an untamed mountain range.

It’s untouched land, and perhaps we might seek to expand into it someday, but for now, it creates an essential barrier between us and the Blackburns.

The Whiteroses, of course, are not so advantageously positioned. They share their entire western border with the Blackburns.

Which means that I need to enter their territory in order to get a closer look at what the Blackburns are up to.

I slow my pace to a light, trotting jog as I slip past the invisible boundary that marks our allied lands. The shift in scent is gradual, turning from the cool rainwater aroma of the Greenbriar pack to the honeyed fragrance of the Whiterose pack with each step I take.

Another mile passes before I reach the place where their land aligns with what the Blackburns have violently claimed for themselves little by little over the years.

That’s what I despise most about the Blackburns.

These aren’t their ancestral lands. Their people didn’t settle here in the Appalachians and carve out a home for themselves through generations of rigor and loyalty.

It was in the 1950s that the Blackburns, little more than a crew of criminals and dangerous outcasts united by a vicious Alpha who was exiled from his own pack in the Midwest, decided to start taking things that never belonged to them.

They’ve swallowed entire smaller packs whole over the decades, choosing to become conquerors instead of the noble, communitarian creatures we are intended to be.

They are a mockery of our species, a stain on the legacy of shifters everywhere.

If it were up to me, I’d eradicate them completely.

But that would require vast numbers, a strong army, and acceptance of the fact that I would inevitably lose many Greenbriars in the process. My father has always been opposed to such a war, and so was my grandfather.

I would go to war for Alina, though. For my son. For revenge over what happened to Alina’s parents. For the terrible chronic pain that my Beta’s father has suffered as a result of the same attack.

Does that make me a violent Alpha? Was I born to be a warmonger?

Is that what Kseniya meant when she foretold that my Mate would ruin me? That the desire to protect her would turn me into a bloodthirsty monster?

I don’t feel bloodthirsty. I don’t feel like a monster.

As I slip closer to the edge of the Blackburn border, creeping northwest now, I slow to a steady, careful walk. I’m cautious to avoid brushing against too many branches and fronds so that my scent doesn’t stick.

Even out here, where the tensions between Blackburns and Whiteroses should be physically manifesting, I don’t sense any of the latter out on patrol. Henry’s pack seems to be avoiding this border entirely .

It’s an effort not to let a frustrated growl slip out at that. I need to remain as quiet as possible.

I pick up on the Blackburn scent easily enough. It’s sour and festering, the result of a pack formed with impure intentions. It smells like wet, rotting leaves and the musty odor of mold spores. Like a dead forest, tinged with a metallic hint of spilled blood.

It’s disgusting.

Sneaking as close to Blackburn territory as I dare, I pick up on one strain of the scent in particular.

Trailing through Whiterose land on the other side of the border, I trace the scent with unfortunate ease a couple of miles north, where it ends close to what seems, in the dark distance, to be a clearing overgrown with weeds.

The Blackburn scent is stronger and more concentrated there.

I don’t need to get any closer to understand what that means.

It’s not the entirety of Samson’s pack, but a small satellite pack of minions.

The kind of soldiers you send ahead to clear a more efficient path to victory.

These are the wolves who have been causing trouble.

The ones who spooked those Whiteroses and sent them careening blindly into Greenbriar territory.

The ones causing an eastward population shift among the elderly Whiteroses. It’s conquest by intimidation.

It’s fucking disgusting.

I judge the distance between the satellite pack’s camp and the Whiterose border to be less than a quarter-mile. Uncomfortably close.

And, after some careful maneuvering to get just a little bit closer, I count at least eight or nine shifters among their group. Strong ones, too. Healthy and large. Samson Blackburn has, indeed, been preparing well during these past few years of silence.

The Whiteroses don’t stand a chance.

Before I can leave too much Greenbriar evidence behind, I turn and head back in the direction I came.

I race fast through the silvery moonlight, letting it guide my way.

For the umpteenth time, I find myself noting how concerning it is that I’m not running into anyone else as I flit through the Whiterose lands.

Where are the patrols? The sentinels? Why isn’t Henry ensuring the security of his lands?

Only when I get back to where I left my car on the very edge of Greenbriar territory do I recognize the beating hearts of my own people populating the quiet night.

I know one of my father’s patrols is moving through the northeast part of our land, and even though it wouldn’t be a problem if I ran into them, I don’t want to have to explain why I went running on my own tonight.

Cal is the only person I told about what I’d be up to, and even he doesn’t know the full truth behind my motivations yet. He thinks I’m just being a devoted Alpha-to-be, taking risks so that others won’t have to.

When I make it back to my truck, I shift back into my human form, yank my clothes on, and throw myself into the driver’s seat. Multitasking for a minute, I start the engine and fumble for my phone, pulling onto the highway as the phone rings.

It’s two in the morning, but Cal tends to be a nocturnal creature. Also, I doubt my Beta would have been able to sleep knowing that I had ventured alone up to the Blackburn border.

Cal answers immediately as I take a too-fast turn onto the route that will bring me around into Whiterose territory without cutting through the main part of their land.

“What’s wrong?” he says instead of his usual hey, man or what’s up.

“The fucking Blackburns.”

“What happened? Are you hurt? I told you it wasn’t a good idea to—”

“I’m fine. Relax.” I bark, steering in the direction of Alina’s house without even thinking about it. I’m driving over the speed limit, but it’s the middle of the night, and I’m not worried about it.

“Where are you?”

I decide to ignore Cal’s question. “Samson has a satellite pack stalking the borderlands. Less than ten, but they’re big and bulky.

Soldiers, definitely. About a quarter-mile from the Whiteroses, but their scent carries all the way over the border, so it’s obvious they’ve crossed over numerous times. ”

“Fuck,” is all Cal says.

“I know.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Tell my father. And don’t let anyone else do what I just did. ”

“Why can’t you tell your father? Where are you, man?”

“I’m…remember when I asked you to trust me?”

In response, I get a heavy sigh.

“Just give me a few more days, and then I can explain,” I continue.

“Please don’t tell me you’re in Blackburn territory.”

I scoff. “Of course not.”

“So you’re with the Whiteroses again,” Cal guesses. “You’ve been spending a lot of time up there.”

“Like I said, your faith and discretion would be very much appreciated right now.”

Cal knows I’d never command it out of him.

Loyalty is earned, not demanded. Still, I can tell I’m pushing the boundaries of what Cal is willing to do behind the primary Alpha’s back.

Keeping secrets from my father could ruin his reputation.

I’m asking a lot from him, even as the man who will eventually be Alpha.

“Fine,” Cal mutters after a pause. “I’ve got your back, Rowan.”

“Great. Now go to sleep.”

“Likewise.”

I open my mouth to snarl a rebuttal at him, but he ends the call before I get a chance. He’s pissed at me, that much is obvious. Cal doesn’t like being kept out of the loop because it stands in the way of him performing his duties as a Beta.

It’s easy to let those thoughts drift away when I pull into Alina’s driveway, though. The house is quiet and dark, but as I pull up next to her car and kill the engine, I can easily identify two sleeping bodies inside the house. Safe and sound.

With a long exhale, I sink down in the driver’s seat. I close my eyes and try to welcome a few hours of restless dozing, but it’s no use.

The wolf within me is howling.

Go to her. See with your own eyes that your mate is safe. Drag her back to your lands by force, if necessary. Protect, protect, protect.

“Calm down,” I command myself.

It doesn’t work.

With a resigned sigh, I climb out of the truck and remove my clothing again. Shifting into my wolf form under the veil of night, I pad up the porch steps and curl up on the welcome mat outside the front door.

Alina, Alina, Alina. Mate, Mate, Mate.

Her scent is so much stronger when I have these senses. It wraps around me, calling to me like a siren song. My limbs itch to force my way inside, whether by breaking down the door or shattering a window, if only to be close to her.

I wish I could say that it’s only the urge to guard my son that causes my mind to spiral like this, but my Mate is the true axis of my world. My center of gravity.

It is only by pure force of will that I remain outside. I manage to quell the raging wolf instincts within me and rest my head on the smooth wooden boards, prepared to spend the rest of the night as Alina’s slumbering sentinel.