Page 38

Xander

“I’VE GOT TO admit, I’m impressed,” I comment, craning my head back and slowly spinning around, checking out the tall gambrel ceiling, the wooden beams decorated with thousands of tiny lights and large round paper lanterns hanging higher up, the combination giving the impression of stars and moons. I bring my gaze down to the solid-wood flooring and the round tables set up for an event happening this weekend, with a large dance floor and staging area for a DJ or band. I tap the stapled packet of PowerPoint slides against my thigh, seeing how much they’ve been able to accomplish in a couple of weeks, has a small smile spreading over my face. It feels good. It’s affirming to finally see our energies put into something positive, something being created. Being proactive instead of reactive.

“Ken really deserves most of the credit,” Cortney chimes—yes, Cortney actually chimes, gliding up from behind me to stand at my side. She tosses her long platinum hair over her shoulder, shiny and blown out like it used to be before everything happened, and looks across the dance floor at Ken with an appreciative smile. “He’s been...” Lightly shaking her head, she licks her glossy lips and teasingly proclaims, “An energetic taskmaster.”

Ken takes a few more pictures with his phone and playfully rolls his eyes, smiling. “I’ve merely been keeping everyone organized and on point. All of us pulled together on this.” Sliding his phone into the inside chest pocket of his long camel-colored woolen coat, he lifts his chin to Elder Allan and Gertie, who are in a far corner, checking out the photobooth. Whatever they’re whispering has blushes highlighting their cheeks and their hands wandering along the other’s body. “Not to mention the work our elders have been doing with the other pack elders, getting them to stand behind us, encouraging their leaders to give us a chance to prove ourselves.”

I nod my agreement because they have, and the brief calls I’ve been part of between the elders and the alphas of the Southwest and Northwest packs in particular have been promising. Especially the last one with Alpha Martinez and his mate, in which my mate unexpectedly popped in—literally popped in like a fox emerging from her underground den—with a mouth full of M&Ms and wide eyes of Oops, sorry, didn’t know you were on a video call. Esmeralda’s yellow eyes glowed marigold seeing Billie being Billie, and an endearing smile swept over her smooth features. They quickly fell into easy chatter, Billie’s eyes glowing green and white with Little Fox’s presence. That one small interaction with her did ten times what I could have.

Allan and Gertie, don’t take notice of Ken’s compliment, still consumed by each other, both giggling. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that particular sound come from Elder Allan. Gertie lazily brushes her hand over the curtain of the photobooth and waggles her brows at him, and I quickly avert my eyes, not wanting them to feel my gaze, not wanting them to stop. Rather, I want them to keep going, keep acting like horny teenagers and give the rest of us hope that we’ll all still be that much in love, that affected by our true-mates when we’re their age.

Ken’s dress shoes barely make a noise as he glides over the dance floor, pulling our attention from the affectionate pair by gesturing an arm to Annabelle and Alessandro standing at a table near me, Alessandro inspecting the linens between his pinched fingers. “The support from the council and the insight supplied by Alessandro have made our planning go much smoother,” Ken asserts.

“That’s true, but it’s been you keeping it all together,” Clinton brightly amends, strolling into the room from a side hallway, typing away on a tablet, the screen reflecting in the lenses of his for-style-only glasses while he raises his eyes to Ken. “You have been available for every phone call, replying to all the emails, listening to concerns, and delegating.”

“So it’s really going to happen,” Jax says from the far end of the updated barn, where he and Assad are checking out security measures and looking for cameras, figuring out what additional precautions we’ll need to take. They stride over to us, and he continues, “The White Mountain Wolf Pack will be hosting a Winter–inspired all-subspecies singles mixer. And we’re going to be able to do it with little over six weeks to prepare.”

“Yes,” Cortney asserts with a firm nod and wide smile, her eyes almost sparkling. “We’ve confirmed we’ll have the entire property to ourselves, from Wednesday afternoon through Monday morning, to prepare and clean up. We’ll need to run the logistics, checking guests into rooms or the small cabins. Rick and Ralph will handle all of the food for the event over the entire weekend. Everyone will be notified about shifting policies, which will need to be minimal. My mother has already offered her cleaning company’s services to handle all the laundry and room turndowns.”

“Based on the conversations I’ve had with the council and other non-wolf-shifters, there’s great interest in attending,” Annabelle adds, putting her mittens into the outer pockets of her long red peacoat. She gazes around the room, her eyes glowing amber with her bear’s presence, and her red lips curve into a wistful smile. “Some even cried at the news, not believing it would happen again, hoping that this is a sign for the future, that we can unite as shifters once more.”

“Many leaders would also like to attend,” Assad states, tucking his phone into the chest pocket of his wool-lined leather jacket, coming up behind Annabelle, and draping his arms low around her waist. He gazes at me. “Even if they’re mated, they’re hoping to attend and talk with you, Alpha—see what your plans are, help out where they can.”

“I imagine for you, Alpha,” my mother says, stepping around Cortney to face me, her hands tucked into the pockets of her black peacoat, her brows raised. “You’ll have meetings throughout the weekend with visiting leaders as well as with those running the event, checking in making sure all is going well, that everyone is safe.”

“You expect an attack?” I question with furrowed brows.

Pursing her lips, she carefully surmises, “I would think with the stir the event is already making, it’d be wise to prepare for some pushback, possibly attempts to prevent the event from happening or to disrupt it somehow.”

“I can discuss the concerns with the High Council,” Annabelle offers, her eyes flitting between my mother and me. She hitches a shoulder. “As I told Billie after your bonds were authenticated, the safety and protection of the four of you and your bonds are greatly important to the council.” She steps forward out of Assad’s light embrace and cranes her head back looking at the lights, a childlike laugh tumbling from her glossy lips. Lifting her arms out to her sides, she exclaims, “And look at what you’re doing! Think about what this one event could mean for all of us!” When she brings her gaze down from the ceiling, her eyes are honey gold and shining with tears. She comes to stand closer to my mother and me. “Think about it! After this mixer, there could be several shifters waking up next to their true-mate—a true-mate they thought they’d never meet. When word of what they experienced and the happiness they found spreads, questions will be asked. When it reaches the wolves, the ones under alphas and leaders who have been keeping them segregated from other subspecies, they’ll begin to wonder about the supposed benefits of their imposed seclusion.” She places a hand over her chest. “We know the risk you and your pack are taking, the threats that have been made, and the ones that will be made. The success of this event is too important, not only to Xander’s position as alpha but also for the reunification of the wolves with the greater shifter community. You will have the additional security and protection you need.”

I’m about to say thank you, show appreciation, when my mother tightly smiles and clicks her tongue. “We do appreciate your passion and offered assistance. However...” Patting down the sharp ends of her pixie cut, she interlaces her hands low while arching a high brow. “This is a wolf-sponsored event. It’s our responsibility to provide protection and security.” She turns to me, and her second brow joins the first, which is lifting even higher. “To allow assistance from non-wolf-shifters will appear weak, especially with other wolf packs.”

Hearing her words, I look around the group to get a feeling for what the others are thinking. The only one to give me anything is Jax, his wide eyes paired with a shoulder shrug of I don’t know . Ruffling my fingers through my hair, I blow out a breath. “Most of the wolves who were seasoned security have relocated to the Midwest Pack, and the wolves growing into those positions will most likely want to be at this event. Having unmated wolf-shifters positioned on security may not be wise. What if their true-mate ends up attending? It could make it hard for them to focus on their duties. With the mix of subspecies coming, I would think having additional security from the High Council will put our guests at ease, knowing that other non-wolf-shifters are protecting them. I’m sure that regardless of what we do, how we handle things, the opposing wolf packs will throw shade no matter what. I’d prefer to ensure the safety of all our guests. The success of this event and the show of strength when we’re united as shifters not just wolf-shifters is what matters.”

My mother presses her lips together like she just sucked on a lemon, clearly not liking my thoughts on the matter or maybe my agreeing with Annabelle and not with her, my luna, in front of others. Perhaps she expects me, as alpha, to treat her, as luna, with special deference and keep the discussion of any disagreements or opposing viewpoints behind closed doors. As much as I do want her to grow in strength and be luna to my pack, I don’t feel the pull to her as my luna. My luna is my true-mate, il mio cuore , and my wolf feels the same. But she doesn’t want to be luna. Their luna ,

my wolf amends. She’s more than your luna. She’s your true-mate and all shifters’ duchessa. I nod in understanding.

“Exactly,” Alessandro hums, striding up between Annabelle and me while pointedly gazing at my mother. “I think your alpha’s approach and view is what is needed. The property is large, with guests’ accommodations spreading from secluded cabins to individual rooms in the main house. There’ll be a lot of land to cover. I assume many of your wolves will be staying on pack lands at night, which means your resources would be spread far too thin to cover both locations effectively.”

“And don’t think that just because Hogan has been silent, he’s forgotten about losing to you, Alpha,” Bruce states, scrubbing the backs of his knuckles over his beard standing just behind and to the side of my mother and Cortney. “This could draw him to take action, retaliate. Too big of a carrot to ignore.”

“You think he’ll risk using his wolves to attack so many shifters?” Ken asks, crossing his arms over his chest and canting his head to the side.

Bruce side-eyes me, his lips twisting in thought. “That, or he could use the distraction of the event for a more calculated strike.”

“You mean Billie don’t you?” Jax bites out. “You think he’ll go after our mate?”

Bruce doesn’t cower under Jax’s accusation. In fact, he straightens his spine and rolls his shoulders back. “I think he showed great interest in Billie from the moment she walked into that conference room at Kubrick’s. Add to that he’s an established alpha, a councilman. Losing to an untested alpha, Xander, William’s boy, hurt his ego more than he let on. One thing I know about alphas: Their egos can be fragile things.” He places his hands on his hips and tips his chin to me. “With this being such a big event, you and your betas will be occupied, pulled in all directions at all hours. It could provide him with an opportunity. A few minutes may be all he needs.”

The images he sent during our wolves’ battle, the ones of her being abused, hunted, and beaten bloody, and near death, flash through my mind. The fear those visions dig up are quickly buried under a bucket of liquefied rage and bolted shut under a plate of steel determination. He’ll be sorely mistaken to think that I’d let him even threaten my mate. A rumbling roar thunders from my chest, making several pieces of stemware on the surrounding tables clatter, some toppling over and shattering on the floor. “No one will touch my mate.”

Bruces raises his hands in defense. “I hope not, Alpha. I truly do, and I know you and your betas will do all you can to protect her and the pack. But you need to see the potential for it to happen and prepare for less overt methods. He lost to you in battle, and he’s a leader, a councilman, for a reason. He knows not to play games he can’t win.”

“Then she’ll—” I begin but my mother cuts me off, clearly taking my lead on how our alpha-to-luna relationship will go, in front of others.

Erecting her spine, she states, “You’ll need to be present, to be an alpha—a leader, not just a mate.” She motions a leather-gloved hand around the area. “Your focus has to be on the whole, on making connections, networking, and building relationships. You won’t be able to do that and keep her at your side the entire time. She’ll need to stand on her own. She may not be training for the position of luna”—my mother’s eyes slide to Cortney so quickly before returning to mine that if I hadn’t been focused on her, I would have missed it— “but she needs to show she’s wolf enough to be luna, to be mated to an alpha and his two betas.” I glance at Cortney, noting the slight blushing of her cheeks and the averting of her eyes. Could my mother have taken offense to Billie’s lack of interest in becoming luna? Could she have seen it as an insult and sought out another protégé so soon?

“She’s la duchessa ,” Alessandro contends in a quiet voice with so much authority and surety it garners all of our attention. Rolling his shoulders back and adjusting the lapels of his coat, he continues, “She may be new to this world, but make no mistake about what resides within Wilhelmina—not just power but her nature, who she is at her core. She and her fox are more than”—he hitches a brow— “ shifter enough to be bonded to her mates.”

“With so little royal representation over the last century, being royal doesn’t evoke the image of power it once did. In fact, it doesn’t evoke an image at all,” Luna Ophelia challenges. “You may have powers, but we know little of them. You may have connections or assets, but what good are those when you’ve kept yourselves apart from us? The general shifter population has such little understanding of royals that the truth of them even existing is questionable.”

Alessandro cants his head to the side, and his eyes glow bright green and white. His royal power gently swirls out of him, and with the same easy effortlessness of a dry sponge absorbing water, my wolf sucks it down. What enters me isn’t Alessandro’s fox but a living, translucent yellow ribbon of his royal power. Its end taps the snout of my wolf in salutation, and then they nuzzle and rub against each other, the ribbon twisting and looping around his legs and up over the backs of his ears.

Inside my chest, a petal of warmth opens from a budding flower I didn’t even know existed. With each caress or playful twist of his power, another petal loosens from the once-tightly-closed bud, until a circle of white petals has spread out. At their center, an iridescent light sparks to life, so bright I see the light emanating from my chest, even through my flannel and Carhartt jacket. I see it even from behind my closed eyelids. I sense the same from those around me. It keeps growing in intensity until it bursts, seemingly in slow motion, sending beams of light out in all directions, freeing the petals. They flutter and twirl their way to my bloodstream, floating along like canoes on a river. The petals glow and begin to break apart into tiny specks, each piece twinkling in my blood like stars in a red sky. As the pieces merge with my blood, a sense of oneness fills my entire being. I feel the Divine. I feel the meaning of life as it literally floats through my veins, and I’m hit with an overwhelming gratitude for how truly privileged I am—we all are—to be part of existence.

To exist at all.

Then, ever so slowly, the power recedes, and I let it go. I don’t try to hold on to it. I don’t try to grasp at it with imaginary hands. I don’t worry that I’ll never feel that truth, that connection ever again. Because with an innate wisdom, I know the truth. The magic is within me, as it’s always been.

Blinking my eyes open, I feel somehow both more solid and lighter—so grounded in my faith, in my existence, that it’s freed me from the weight of uncertainty and doubt. I gaze around, and everyone in the room holds the same expressions of awe: eyes gleaming with tears, mouths open in wide, joyous smiles, and hands folded over their hearts.

“We never left you,” Alessandro hums. “We’re within you. We’re part of the Divine, and that part of you connected to the Divine will recognize us, will welcome us. Because we are you.”

“We are all divine, and when we are one with it, we are one with all those connected,” Ken whispers in a stuttered voice—a hitched, stilted voice that happens when your entire existence is rocked. It’s the gentle breeze that knocks over the house of cards you’ve been living under, leaving not just a change in perception but a complete paradigm shift.

“ Si, si, amico mio ,” Alessandro affirms with a gentle bob of his head and a proud twinkle in his eyes. “The Divine is within all of us. Thus, we are all one.” He returns his attention to my mother, whose eyes are shining, yet her mouth is no longer open and smiling. Instead her lips are pressed into a tight line. The corners of Alessandro’s eyes turn down, and he releases a low sigh. “Luna,” he implores, “I assure you, what you felt came from within you. I merely reawakened it.”

“I understand,” she cautiously replies. “However, I did not give you permission to interact with my energy, my shifter, myself.”

“The power could not have entered you if you didn’t want it—if you didn’t recognize it as part of yourself,” Alessandro explains in a soft voice and then raises a hand up. “But I do understand your concern. If others are not open with themselves, sharing this could push them into a self-reflection they are not ready for. Accepting the truth would mean they’d have to question their actions, how they’ve been living their lives, and how they’ve been treating others of our kind. Some would prefer to not know the truth, would prefer to continue living the lie because accepting the truth would be accepting their own mistakes, their own imperfections, their own judgments, and thus their insecurities.” He waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Regardless, the point I was making had to do with Wilhelmina and her ability to be who you believe she needs to be.” He tucks his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket and shrugs his shoulders. “And who she is, is who she needs to be. Roles and titles mean very little without character. Often it’s the character of the individual that determines the worth of the role and not the other way around.”

“I agree,” my mother says with a curt dip of her chin and then raises her brows. “Please remember: With wolves, the health of the pack is determined by those in charge—by our alpha, his beta, and his luna, and—”

“Enough,” I cut in with an exasperated exhale. Raking my fingers through my hair, I toss my arm in her direction. “Enough with this topic. It’s off base, and there’s too much speculation and too many assumptions for us to get anywhere concrete. We have just over six weeks to prepare.” I jerk my chin to Ken. “Book this for the weekend we spoke of. Jax will be your point of contact for things you think need my approval.” I swing my gaze to Cortney and my mother. “I assume you both want to continue to work on the logistics of who will be working the event and ensuring our guests’ needs are met?” I turn to Annabelle before my mother and Cortney can answer. “Annabelle, if you could work with Ken, Assad, and Jax in regard to security details, Ethan can help as well.”

“Consider it done, Alpha,” Ken says, a smile curling the edges of his lips.

“Yes, Alpha,” both Annabelle and Cortney reply. Jax merely gives me a thumbs up, his eyes on my mother and her rigid posture.

“Luna?” I question.

“Yes, Alpha?” she tersely replies. “Yes, I’ll continue to work with Cortney on organizing the event, as a luna should.”

I’m torn between throwing everyone out so she and I can settle this matter privately or just stepping up to her and laying down the law like an alpha is supposed to. I’m still wavering in indecision when I hear a raspy “Holy schnikies!” from behind me, followed by a tinkling laugh that lights up my entire fucking universe. “This is awesome!” she continues, the pitter-patter of her feet dancing over to us, her body’s own way of showing its enthusiasm. All of that happiness, lightness, and love I feel growing gets cut off at the knees when I notice the look in my mother’s eyes, the haughtiness of her stance, the contemptuous tilt of her nose.

I turn to my mate, who is dragging Ethan along behind her. She doesn’t notice my attention, her eyes are skyward, taking in all the lights. I try to see what has my mother looking at my mate with such disdain. Her hair is twisted up in a messy, messy, bun. Her oversized black hoodie is crammed inside her black parka with the hood on the outside. She has on a pair of baggy joggers with long johns on under, if I had to guess, and an old pair of running sneakers, with wool socks bunched at her ankles. Feeling my attention, her gaze drops down from the ceiling, and I see the dark circles, the gaunt cheeks, the pale lips, the bloodshot eyes. I see all of those things instead of the excitement sparkling in her eyes or the wide smile that crumbles upon meeting my scrutinizing gaze. She looks down at herself and then abruptly drops Ethan’s hand so she can wrap her arms around her waist.

“Ah, sorry,” she stammers with an ear tug, and my heart feels the tug. The tug of shame. Not hers but mine—from looking at my mate through anyone else’s eyes but my own. “Ethan picked me up at the library, and we wanted to check it out since you were still here. I, um...” She rolls her bottom lip under her top teeth. “I didn’t think it was a real business meeting or anything.”

“It’s not,” I say, opening up an arm for her. She tentatively walks to me, and I pull her into my chest, my lips pressing against her head. “And I’m glad you were able to make it and that you approve.”

She lets go of herself to wrap her arms around me while burrowing her face into my chest. Her nose brushes the divot between my collarbones, and I shudder as she draws in a long inhale. “I do.” She sighs. “Not like I have any background in these types of things. But I like it. I like the lighting, the feel of it... the...” She snorts a soft laugh and drawls out a posh-sounding “ ambiance .”

“Well, thankfully there are those of us here who have experience with these types of things,” my mother clips out.

I tense at her tone and am ready to call her on her shit when I feel Billie’s arms around me tighten. Her body begins to sway, pulling mine along with hers, and like the draw of sand from a receding wave, the tension within me erodes. Keeping her face pressed against my chest, her hair tickling the sensitive skin of my neck, she yawns. “Yes, I am thankful that Xander has such experienced, supportive, and capable people surrounding him. People who are more than willingly to do what they can to make the vision he has for the pack a reality. I’m grateful that we are all seeing the bigger picture, pushing ourselves past our own limits with a one-pointed focus—putting our energy into the endeavors that matter. If there are any issues that would potentially cause disharmony or create unnecessary obstacles, we’re wise enough to sidebar them, knowing we’ll have time later to air those concerns or grievances. We will look at everything we’re all doing and understand that, as of now, we’re doing what we need to, fulfilling the tasks and roles that are best suited to us and keep us united as a pack.”

At hearing my mate’s words, my mother’s head pulls back an inch, while I just hug her tighter, loving how she took my mother’s passive-aggressive barb and volleyed it back to her with class and refinement.

Alessandro laughs his elegant laugh and says, “As I said, she is la duchessa . She will know what to do. La mia stella has it all inside her.”

“That she does,” I affirm, laying tender kisses on Billie’s head while staring at my mother with hard eyes.