Page 25

I always know when I’m dreaming.

In my dreams, Gramps is still alive, and right now, he’s sitting across from me at the table, his head tilted, his eyes serious and fixed. This dream comes to me a lot, a memory that plays out in picture-perfect detail.

“What do you mean … right ?” he asks.

Up to this point, Gramps has received every question of mine with grace and understanding. His philosophy has been that there are no stupid questions, and if he’s going to train me to the be the best alpha leader I can be for this pack, I’ll need to feel comfortable asking him even the most delicate questions.

I feel my teen self clear his throat, hands gripping the edge of the table, thinking about Kira Argent. Who came into the classroom reeking of her own scent.

The only reason I’d been able to control myself was because of the meditation I’d done with Gramps. Discipline was my middle name. But I’d still done what I could to get her sent home from school—my mind swam with her.

“It was more … than the heat,” I remember saying, eyes on the table. “Something else. Like—I don’t know how to explain it. She felt … right to me.”

Gramps is quiet for a long time, and I remember this moment, the discomfort, the slow realization that I should have kept this information to myself.

“No,” the dream version of him says, and I snap my head up to look at him, wide-eyed. “No,” he says again. “That girl is not a good fit for you. Doesn’t exactly look the part of luna, does she? Your mate will be someone capable. The luna of the pack nurtures, Dorian. I’m certain it won’t be an Argent.”

“So what is this feeling?” my dream self asks. I already know the answer.

Gramps shrugged, “We’ll work on your intuition, son. That feeling might not be anything more than good, old-fashioned lust.”

The dream fizzles out, something interrupting it, but I know what happened after that.

I’d laughed and gagged, telling him not to say stuff like that, and he’d chuckled. Said it was time to get to my training, that the next time I thought I’d found my mate, to give him some warning first.

He played it off, made it seem like I’d have any control over who it ended up being. But even back then, even trusting him as much as I did, I knew that he was wrong.

That feeling deep in my gut meant that Kira was my mate, no matter what Gramps said, or how I denied it to myself. And it would only get worse, so I’d only get more vicious with her, hating that my body wanted her the way it did.

With the dream gone, I roll over, wrap my arm around Kira, and pull her into me, sucking in a deep breath of her scent, trying to get myself to fall asleep again, forget the weird memory-dream.

At first, I assume the vibration is coming from somewhere deep inside of me, a sort of universal understanding of my new life, and how everything is falling into place exactly the way I want.

Kira is here with me, and she hasn’t left my bed since that first night she showed up at my door. This is what I want—this life with her—and I know I need to tell her that officially. But I was so sucked into her heat, unable to think about anything but getting her body against mine.

It’s finally ebbed, her scent cooling, now not filling the house and pooling in the corners, but hovering around her like an aura, the way it’s usually meant to.

I can tell from the frenetic energy about her that now that her heat is done, she’s looking for something to do. She’s been baking so much lately that I’ve started taking it with me, setting it out for others to take at the pack center.

It’s time Kira was re-introduced into the pack. Accepted as the luna. But I’m still trying to figure out the best way to do that, to announce to everyone that I’m claiming her. To give her the formal responsibilities of the luna—caring for the people in this pack.

As a natural cook and nurturer, it’s obvious she’s perfect for the job.

Another round of incessant vibrating pulls me from my half-hazy, half-asleep thoughts, and I realize it’s not coming from me.

The sound, the vibrations, are coming from the bedside table, where my phone is lit up. I blink a few times, raise my head from the pillow, and feel Kira adjust around me, her arms snaking in around my waist.

Soft and supple. Kira. My mate.

Anger rises in my throat at whoever thought it was a good idea to call this early—to risk waking her up—and I almost laugh when I see the caller ID.

Kellen Argent.

Of course. He’s the only person who would think to call me at such an ungodly hour—I glance at the clock to confirm it’s before four in the morning.

For some reason, the first thought that comes to mind is that, in a traditional sequence of events, I would need to ask Kellen for his permission to claim his daughter as my own. But I won’t be doing that—for one, she already bears my mark. And Kellen gave up his right to her when he let her leave all those years ago.

“What?” I snap, the moment I’m out of bed and in the hallway, having left Kira curled up in bed so she could get her rest, even if members of my idiotic council think it’s a good idea to call before the sun comes up.

“Sir?” the moment he speaks, I can hear it in his voice. There’s something very, very wrong. Kellen speaks with a beat of nervousness and excitement, urgency that I haven’t dealt with in a long time.

“What is it?” I ask again, this time softening my tone. I turn, slip back into the bedroom, grab a pair of black jeans and a black top, pull them on silently as Kellen talks in my ear. With every word he says, my concern grows, heart beating faster, the wolf inside me demanding immediate action.

My body is pleasantly worn from all the time I’ve spent with her this week. I haven’t been entirely celibate since she left, but it’s hard to find another woman halfway interesting when there’s only one thing your body wants.

And since puberty, my body has only wanted one body. One set of curves, one head of red-golden hair. Her skin under my hands.

So to go from nearly nothing to having her under me three times a day, for an entire week—it means I’ve been eating like an animal, and that my muscles are sore, stretching and worked more than they have been for the last five years.

Even now that her heat is finished, I feel my eyes wandering over to her, my eyes lingering on the spot I’ve left on her neck, healing now; the spot on her body that smells more like me.

Gently, I touch my hand to my own matching spot, just above my shoulder.

Soon, our scents will start to morph, leaning in and taking from one another, creating a new scent that our children will carry before developing scents of their own.

“Sir?” Kellen asks, his voice sharp and quick over the phone. I realize I haven’t answered him, that I’ve just been standing, staring at Kira as she sleeps, suddenly overcome with the idea of what our children might look like.

I want a thousand little heads, all with her hair. All with her bright smile. Children I can raise to be much better than I ever was. Maybe I’ll prepare one of them to take over for me in the future, the way my grandfather did. Or maybe I’ll find a new way to do things, to keep the peace in this pack.

But now, there’s something bigger, and much more important to focus on. A threat to all of us that I won’t ignore. Shaking my head, I clear my thoughts of Kira—I’ll have to focus on her when I get home.

If I think about her now, I won’t be able to perform my duties as alpha leader, keep the needs of the pack at the front of my mind.

Stepping out into the hallway, I hold the phone tightly to my mouth and say, “I’m on my way. Don’t do anything until I arrive.”

“Yes, sir.”

I get to the door, but before I slip out, braving the cool morning and driving to the pack hall to deal with this mess, I turn around, walk over to Kira, push her hair away from her face, and lean down, running my lips over her forehead.

“I’ll be back,” I mouth more than whisper, not wanting to wake her up. “And I love you, Kira.”

With a final, resolute kiss to her temple, I stand and force myself to leave the room, already looking forward to the second I walk back through the door.