Page 20

R owan

I had to leave my sentinel position in Alina’s driveway early this morning to make it back to Greenbriar territory in time to meet with my father and his Betas for our usual biweekly roundtable.

Most of the time, it’s a boring process to sit through. Running a pack isn’t all fun and games. There’s a lot of financial planning, budgeting, and tax requirements. On top of that, we take time in the meeting to review disputes that have been raised by pack members about whoever and whatever.

The meeting became a little more interesting when I brought up what I discovered about the satellite pack pushing at the outer borders of the Blackburn territory.

When my father asked for details, though, I lied.

I told him that I heard it from a member of Whiterose pack, not that I saw it with my own eyes. Because there is absolutely no reason for me to be patrolling in territory that isn’t ours—not when nobody knows that my Mate and heir are there.

Cal gave me a look when I said that, as if he knows the truth, which shouldn’t be possible, but he kept his mouth shut. Honestly, I probably don’t thank my Beta enough. Or give him enough credit for how loyal he is to me, even while doing his best to remain loyal to the current Alpha.

He tried to corner me on the way out of my father’s house, but then one of my father’s Betas called out to him, and I used the temporary distraction to slip away.

I didn’t know why I was in such a rush to get back to West Pond.

I had no reason to be on edge. It was mid-morning, warm and sunny, and I was in a good mood despite the events of the weekend.

I knew Alina was at work and Noah was at school, and therefore I didn’t have a whole lot else to do except continue poking my nose where it technically doesn’t belong.

But, from the moment I woke up this morning, I haven’t been able to shake an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like my wolf instincts know that something bad is coming, but my human logic hasn’t caught on to what it could be.

It could also just be the remnants of how I felt on Friday night after climbing down from Alina’s rooftop.

I think about it during the entire drive to West Pond.

Not that there’s much to think about.

If someone looked up the word impasse in a dictionary, there would be a picture of me and Alina. We’ve reached a point where she knows how much I want her in a physical sense, and she also knows now how much I regret rejecting the bond and triggering her escape from the pack.

And now I know that she wants me, too. Perhaps only because the bond has programmed her to be physically attracted to me, but it’s something.

She dreams about me.

She yearns for me, even in the throes of sleep.

And she gets so lost in the overwhelming sensation of my touch on her body that she forgets all her stubbornness and anger for a little while.

That has to mean she doesn’t hate me anymore.

Perhaps if I had the balls to tell her the truth—that I love her and have always loved her and will, despite my better judgment, love her for as long as I live—she might even start to tolerate me. Maybe even she’d want to be my friend, at the very least.

But the painful reality is that none of it matters, anyway.

I may love her, and she may no longer love me, but it doesn’t erase the prophecy. It doesn’t get rid of all the complications that come with it.

Unless she wants to ruin me, and thus ruin the pack, we can’t be together. It’s as simple as that.

There has to be another path forward for us, though…

I’m scowling by the time I roll down Main Street, muttering under my breath as I park in front of The Diner.

Inside, it’s mostly deserted. An older couple shares their breakfast at one end of the bar, and a couple of shifters are hanging out at one of the booths at the back of the restaurant.

Alina isn’t here, though.

She’s supposed to be behind the bar, tinkering away with the coffee machine or harmlessly flirting with one of the customers.

Instead, there’s an older man standing in her place. I halt at the sight of him, wondering if I’ve miscounted the days. But, no. It’s Monday. And Alina works Monday through Friday so that she can take weekends off in coordination with Noah’s school schedule.

I stalk toward the man behind the bar.

“Where’s Alina?” I don’t bother with hey or hello. I don’t have time for that shit.

The man glances up at me, quirking an eyebrow. “Who wants to know?”

I bristle at his tone. The way he’s looking at me, with nasty amusement, makes my skin crawl. Why haven’t I seen this guy before? I’d remember someone with this kind of attitude existing in Alina’s periphery. I’ve been keeping track of everyone she interacts with, in the least creepy way possible.

“Tim,” chimes in the old lady at the end of the bar with a gently chastising tone. “I wouldn’t talk to him like that. He’s a Greenbriar.”

Tim snorts, giving me another look that makes me want to knock his teeth out. “Okay…and?”

The old lady looks confused by his words. Or maybe she’s confused by his attitude. She glances at the old man beside her, and he’s frowning, too. This must not be how this asshole usually behaves. Which means he probably has an issue with Greenbriars.

Something isn’t right.

I take a threatening step forward, bracing my hands on the bar. Behind me, the restaurant falls dead silent.

Tim has the decency to swallow nervously. He’s obviously not Alpha material. Barely a Beta on a good day. No, this is the kind of shifter who talks a big game but has nothing to back it up with.

“I’ll ask one more time,” I tell him, keeping my voice calm and conversational. “Where is Alina?”

Tim sneers at me. “Sent her out to Sweet Kettle Farm to pick up a delivery.”

The old lady cuts in again. “Sweet Kettle? Since when are y’all getting your ingredients from them? They’re all the way out west, Tim.”

Tim merely shrugs, looking down at the bar he’s needlessly polishing with a dirty rag. “Things change. Change is good.”

There’s an eerie undertone to his words.

I don’t have time to dwell on it, or to kick his ass. I turn to the nice old lady, who is still looking at Tim like she barely recognizes him.

“Where is the farm?” I ask her.

“Just head west about twenty miles on Redwood Road. There’s an old red barn falling apart up at the head of their driveway. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.”

Without another word, I rush out of The Diner.

My fingernails are already lengthening into claws by the time I throw myself into the cab of my truck, but I fight back against the urge to shift.

Even though it would certainly help release some of the savage rage boiling in my gut, I can drive faster than I can run.

That Tim guy…how have I not noticed him before? He must have been laying low ever since he caught wind of the fact that I’m in town.

His scent didn’t match the Whiterose one that I smelled in Blackburn territory, though, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t involved in the mutiny .

Whatever. A problem for later.

Right now, I can only think about one thing.

Alina.

I drive faster than I should, but nobody bothers to chase me down and fine me for it. Not that I’d let anyone pull me over right now.

My heartbeat now pounds out a steady rhythm of A-lina, A-lina, A-lina.

Noah is at school. He’ll be fine. Even if there is disloyalty running through the Whiterose pack and someone has decided to target Alina, Noah is surrounded by a hundred other kids right now and plenty of staff members who will hopefully step in if something doesn’t seem right.

At least, that’s what I have to tell myself. Because I can’t go check on my son and hunt down my Mate at the same time.

Are the Whiteroses who are loyal to the Blackburns targeting Alina simply because she’s a Greenbriar? Or has word spread that she’s my Mate?

I snarl loudly, punching my fist against the steering wheel. I step harder on the gas, sailing down the pothole-riddled highway as fast as I dare to go.

As soon as I see the aforementioned barn in my sights, I let the truck skid to a halt at the mouth of a long, dirt driveway. There’s another truck parked nearby, the engine still warm—a detail I pick up on thanks to the wolf senses that are taking over.

I scent Alina right away, and she’s not alone.

I waste no time. In the span of just a few seconds, I’m leaping out of the cab, tearing off my clothes, and shifting into wolf form.

The beast within takes over.

Inside the barn, I take in the scene before anyone else notices I’m there.

Three Blackburns—young, burly henchmen by the looks of them—have Alina backed against the far wall. Her eyes are wide with obvious fear, but she’s holding herself ramrod straight and has her hands clenched into fists like she’s ready to fight back. Beautiful, vicious creature.

Nobody is in wolf form, their senses slightly dulled because of this, which is how I’ve managed to go undetected. They don’t even seem to have heard the crunch of my truck’s tires on the dirt a minute ago.

Protect. Guard. Kill.

There is no such thing as hesitation when I am in this form.

A low growl rumbles deep in my chest, and then I pounce.

The Blackburn on the far left of me whips around, but in the time it takes him to process the sight of the massive wolf lunging for him, my canines are buried in his throat.

I rip open his jugular without a second thought.

Blood splatters across the hay-strewn floor, but I am already moving on to the next.

The second Blackburn squares off against me. In human form, we’d be evenly matched in size, but I can see that he’s younger and clumsier than me. Plus, when I am in all my Alpha wolf glory, he doesn’t stand a chance.

Still, he tries his best to put up a good fight. Behind him, the third Blackburn goes for Alina. She lets out a shout of fury, and manages to land a kick to his groin before he slams her into the wall of the barn.

The Blackburn standing in my way loses half the flesh connecting his head to his shoulders a heartbeat later. I spit out the disgusting, sour flesh and pounce on the third.

Alina scrambles away on her hands after being tossed to the ground by the third Blackburn.

I claw off half his face before he can even get his fists up in an attempt to defend himself, taking one of his eyeballs out.

Behind me, Alina makes a retching sound, but there’s no time to regret the amount of gore that I’m causing right now.

If she wasn’t watching, I’d rip them apart until nobody could recognize the pieces.

When all three are dead, which takes barely a minute to accomplish, I pause to breathe in the metallic, bloody scent that clings to the interior of the barn. Annoyance rattles through me. How did Alina not notice? Was she not paying attention at all?

I grunt, pawing at the hay to wipe the blood off my paws.

There are no more Blackburns. At least, none within the next mile or so. That doesn’t mean more aren’t coming.

I turn to Alina. She’s still on the ground, staring up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. She looks awed and horrified all at the same time, and there’s a cut on her brow that’s bleeding a little.

Yet, when Alina’s gaze locks with mine, she offers me a breathless smile.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she whispers.

And then, much to my horror, she faints.