THE MEETING

Would it really be such a bad thing? Ryan was my childhood friend before we ever took things to the next level. We had been teens, entrenched in our feelings and hormones when I left. Young love seemed impossible to lose at that point. Neither of us had imagined a reality where we weren’t together. But too soon that had been ripped away from us because of me and my immature decisions.

“I’m not the same girl that left Enders twelve years ago. I’m not the same girl you loved then,” I tell him, a sad smile lifting my lips, and I use his momentary shock to pull my hand from his and stand. I need some time to think this over, to sleep and digest all of this information threatening to cause my barricaded emotions to rupture the tenuous wall holding them back.

I focus squarely on the door and take a step towards it, about to escape to find some peace and let the lies and betrayals settle in, when he bolts from his seat. Before I know what’s happening, his warm hands clasp my shoulders, turning me to face him. His gaze is hard on me, scanning my face, searching for something. My body goes rigid, unsure if I can give in to the longing I see pass across his face.

“I’m not the same guy either, Scarlet. I’m not the same naïve kid I used to be. There are unspeakable things I’ve had to do as your father’s beta. I have scars too.”

I relax into his hold, his words taking some of the tension from my limbs. My messed up mind apparently takes comfort that he, too, has issues. As though the shared trauma draws us closer, I slip under his arms, resting my head against his chiseled chest. He immediately wraps his arms around me, and his chest relaxes as he cradles my head against him, heedless of the moisture still drenching the marred white fabric clinging to me.

“It wouldn’t be so bad, Ryan, to be with you, to love you again,” I whisper against his chest, needing him to know that. The only thing that would truly hold me back would be my own emotional wounds that I still need to work through. Blood wells to the surface from all the memories and emotions dredged up today, the crippling loss still crumpling my chest.

His chest shudders underneath my cheek, holding back the sob of relief.

“You have no idea how easy it would be for me to love you again, Scarlet,” he whispers back, the warm caress of his breath brushing against the top of my head.

I let myself soak into his comforting warmth for another moment before pulling away. The emotions are suffocating now, too real, too raw for me to sort through.

“We have a meeting with the Whitlock pack tomorrow, we can announce it then.” Scarlet pulls back too, fisting his hands in his pockets as though he has to physically hold himself back from wrapping me against him again. He’s clearly reading the panic crossing my face and changing the subject back to the issue at hand. Marcus weavers, the bears, the marriage, and fake engagement. I let my mind focus on those things, hoping for a few more moments of clarity before I fall into the oblivion of sleep.

“I can’t go, Ryan.” I shake my head, needing to sort out my priorities. “We should push the meeting. I need to figure out what happened to my father, find his killer and bring them to justice.” I let my eyes take on the steely determination that fills me. Despite everything I learned today, I need to hold on to the vengeance that burned through my veins mere hours before.

“I know you need that closure, but the pack needs this. Finding your dad's killer won’t bring him back.” An argument is poised on my tongue, but he cuts back in. “I promise I have our best people working on it, and I’ll personally head the investigation, but we need you to be the point of contact with the other packs, to show that we have our leadership back in place. Otherwise, they may choose to overtake us rather than work with us.”

His words calm the rage burning like a renewed fire in my veins, the cold weight of exhaustion rolling back in to replace it.

“I promise you, when we find whoever did this, you’ll get the killing blow.” Ryan clasps his hand over his chest, underscoring his promise. I let his vow strengthen me, fuel me for the next few weeks of turmoil. I would get to end them and watch the light in the killer’s eyes blink out.

That would have to be enough for now.

I tap my foot against the floor of the maybach in a steady staccato, anxious energy thrumming through my limbs. We pass through quiet streets. Most families are at school or work at this early afternoon hour. The smooth caress of Ryan's palm slides across my thigh, rubbing tender circles over the fitted dress pants I chose to wear to our meeting today. Thankfully my belongings were delivered while we were in the office yesterday, saving me from having to delve back into painful memories by surfacing more of my mom’s wardrobe.

My body tenses under his touch, my first instinct to pull my leg away, but I push down that reaction. I’ve dated since Ryan, but never anything truly serious. My focus has always been on my career, spending hours on end locked behind my office door at the club, crunching the numbers and looking for ways to draw in business. A dead club can’t hide the amount of money my father funneled through there from his less savory ventures. I always thought that was the way to connect with my father, to make him proud, but it always went unnoticed, even when our profits started rivaling some of his illegal money streams.

Instead, I worked myself to the bone, letting life pass me by along with allowing the opportunity to fix my relationship with my father to slip through my fingers. As though on reflex, my head turns to Ryan. Would I have the same sort of regrets if I didn’t give him a chance? He gives me a small reassuring smile, and I can’t help but mirror his expression. Yet, despite the comfort I feel in his presence, I don’t feel the same fire and passion I’d felt as a teenager. There had been a point where I couldn’t imagine loving anyone the way I loved Ryan. Not even a fated mate. But does love have to be that uncontrollable desire? We may be different now, but we still carry parts of our past selves, perhaps that’s enough? That spark may even reignite for all I know.

“There are a few details we should go over before we get there,” Ryan says, interrupting my thoughts and putting an end to the inner turmoil brewing inside my mind. And with that, he shifts into explaining the details of the attacks on our two wolf packs from the Landlays. They’ve been showing up at our establishments, trashing them, interrupting deals, poaching our clients, and attacking our people in both shifted and human forms.

“They’re hungry for power and have nothing to lose, Scarlet. That’s why they’re so dangerous. A slith of migrated Lions, fighting tooth and nail to claim the life they desire, the life they believe wolves have taken from them,” Ryan explains, his frown deepening with each word.

“I know the Lions are lethal. It’s why the wolf packs never get close, even though there are so many of them. We know if they get power and influence they could rip us apart. I still can’t quite believe my father allowed them to get so strong.” I shift in my seat and scrape my nails along the leather. Mentioning my father still brings rage.

“We’re both on the same page, us and the Weavers pack. So this meeting is more so just a formality to make sure you are still on board with the pact and to solidify our plans to take action. We also need to make sure they still see us as an asset, show that you are just as strong of a leader as your father.” Ryan gives me a reassuring smile, which I attempt to mirror, but it comes off as more of a grimace. My stomach twists at his words, and I absentmindedly tap my foot once more. Will I be as strong of an alpha as my father? Will I live up to our family name?

“You’ll do great,” he murmurs, his words followed by the brush of his hand against my leg again. I let the tension leave my body, forcing myself to relax into the touch. My shoulders slump slightly as I expel a deep sigh and slide closer to his side, soaking in his body heat.

Ryan wraps an arm around my back, and I nestle my head against his shoulder, basking in the comforting reassurance of his presence. Wisps of hair tickle my face as they fall out of my plaited braid.

“Oh, before I forget,” Ryan says, and I bite back my annoyed huff as he jostles me, rummaging in his pocket. A velvet box appears in his outstretched hand, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight.

“It was my mother’s ring,” Ryan breathes, his voice tight with emotion. He flicks the box open with his thumb, and my mind almost registers the movement in slow motion. My heart beats a staccato as the cool grip of fear washes over me. The gravity of the situation sinks in, his words from yesterday playing through my mind. I forced myself to relax, to lean against him, this is all too much. The box clicks over to reveal the princess cut diamond within. I can’t do this.

“I just... I don’t feel right wearing it, Ryan, not something so special. I don’t want to tarnish the meaning of it.” I will my words to come out smooth and steady, not full of the panic turning my veins to ice.

Ryan's mother is a saint of a woman, and for her to give this to him, I can’t even fathom what he must’ve said to her. Fear skitters up my spine that I may hurt both of them if I can’t return his feelings.

“Sky, you’re the only woman I ever thought of giving this ring to, it’s only right that you should wear it,” Monte says, his hand slipping for my shoulder to clasp my hands, giving me a sheepish smile before continuing. “I know we’re only getting to know each other again, but I still care about you, I always will. So even though this is pretend right now, maybe there will be a day that it’s real.”

My stomach turns at his words, and I give him a tight smile, unsure of how exactly to react to this. His answering smile chips away at the thick layer of ice coating my heart, so full of hope, of joy, of excitement for a future I can barely see in my mind’s eye.

I’m jolted from my thoughts at the cool press of metal along my finger. I glance down and watch as he slides the white gold band into place on my left hand. Sunlight glints off the diamond, sending a cascade of rainbow-colored flecks along the limo’s interior. It’s the foreign weight pressing on my ring finger that has me balking, the burden like a chain trapping me in place.

Monte leans down, pressing a tender kiss against the back of my hand, and his eyes flick up to meet mine, elation, and reverence in his gaze. I quickly school my face, unable to stop myself from being pulled in by his beaming smile.

“It’ll be just like we’d always planned,” Monte murmurs almost to himself. My heart jolts, battling between wishing we could just slip back into how things were and knowing that we can’t.

I don’t have anything holding me back, except… “Monte, we both know that I’ll have a mate, well multiple since I’m a female alpha.”

He strokes the back of my hand. “You never know, we could be mates. We’ve always known we were meant to be together, who knows how it feels to find your mate?” His smile widens, but doesn't quite meet his eyes.

We both know that’s not true, not because he’s a beta and I’m an alpha—because my mother was also a beta—but because when you find your mates, you just know.

I turn my head to stare out the window.

The bond is seen as a blessing by the fates to the leaders of the shifter world, their lives so consumed by their duties most times, they often would not seek a partner on their own. It may have worked for some but others found their bonded partner late in life, after they’d already been married and had a family.

We could make it work, right?I tilt my head back onto the headrest and close my eyes.

Some choose to stay with their partner while others leave for the bond. I vowed long ago to follow my heart and not be swayed by the mate bond. And after seeing how her death broke my father so completely. I can never let that happen to me … because although I admired the love and devotion they shared, I can never let my father’s fate be mine. Her death completely ruined him, shredded his soul into pieces that could never be put back together, made him weak enough for someone like Vivian to sink her claws into …

My conflicting emotions war in my mind, caught between soaking in his happiness and letting him down easily. But before I can decide, the limo comes to a stop, and the engine’s rumble cuts off. The deafening silence rings in my ears, sending a rush of relief through me.

I’m about to get out, but I pause, taking in the scene around us. I’d expected something like my own family home. Instead, I find myself in the middle of an industrial area.

Shaking myself from my momentary shock, I pull the handle, only to find it already moving beneath my hand. Monte stands on the other side, swinging the door out for me and extending a hand for me to take. I let him help me from the limo, heat creeping to my cheeks at my momentary pause.

I expect him to let go of my hand once I pull myself to my feet, but he keeps hold of it, cradling my slender hand in his. Biting the corner of my lip, I force myself not to slip my palm from his. Guilt pulls me in two different directions. Should I ease into this role and allow myself to fall back into the girl I used to be when we were both young and in love? Or is it unfair to let him think I’m more open to this intimate contact than I truly am?

I shake those thoughts from my mind, unable to think about all that just yet. So I selfishly keep my hand in his, taking comfort in the contact from my long-time friend.

“I thought you said the pack could rival our own?” I murmur under my breath, unsure what sort of security this place has. It probably wouldn’t be the best impression to insult our potential allies before even meeting them.

“Looks can be deceiving.” Monte’s whispered words come out as almost a growl as he gently pulls me along beside him towards one of the warehouse doors. I purse my lips, assessing the dirt and grime splattered across the cement walls. Trash litters the alleyway, the only sign of life scattered around the industrial center, and not a single person is in sight. The thought dawns on me, and I pull to a stop, unsure if we may be walking into a trap.

I slide my hand from Monte’s as the reality of our situation slams into me. These people aren’t our friends, they are potential threats, and this is no time to be allowing Monte to hold my hand like we’re lovers. Sure, we would need to do that for the ruse, but now I’m the Alpha of our pack. I need to act like the leader I strive to be, and I can’t rely on Monte as a crutch to lean on. He’s my beta. I can’t have him taking the lead, otherwise I’ll look weak, easy to trounce, and we’ll no longer be potential allies. We’ll be prey to overtake.

I glance down at myself, making sure everything is in place. I planned my outfit for this exact reason, I remind myself, straightening out the oversized blazer, the lace bralette beneath it offering enough movement to access my weapons beneath the jacket. My hands itch to run over the blade strapped to my waist, to take comfort in the familiar carved steel, but I can’t since we’re undoubtedly being watched right now. The only reason a place like this wouldn’t have guards out front is because they have enough security to see every square inch. A scan of the building tops reveals numerous cameras capturing every angle. One wrong move and I’m sure guards will emerge over the ledge and reveal themselves in a lethal way.

I take comfort in the cool press of my Glock strapped to my other side. I have weapons too, and I sure as hell know how to use them. Monte’s brows are knitted together, eyes scanning my face, undoubtedly surprised by the sudden shift in my demeanor. He says nothing though, simply nodding in understanding as I look back at him with a look of determination. He gives me a sheepish smile before pulling the same mask over his face. Both of us slipped up this time, and we mustn’t allow the Whitlock pack to spot any weakness.

Monte steps in front of me, taking the lead and scanning the space, ensuring that the way is clear for his alpha. Hopefully, either no one had caught our earlier slip or would chalk it up to a momentary lapse, especially given our announcement.

Monte reaches the door, and I check the alley behind us, grateful for the afternoon sun still high in the sky. Perhaps the pack chose the daytime for this meeting as an act of good faith because I definitely would not want to be coming to this alley for the first time at night. He pulls the door open, scanning the interior for threats. I peer around him as I stride up to him, allowing my footsteps to be hard, measured, and unrushed, as though I couldn’t care less about walking into this potentially dangerous situation. But I trust Monte, he’d met with the pack enough to gauge the risk. If he thought there was a good chance that they would double-cross us, we would have met on our territory or brought more of our pack.

He pulls his shoulders back, his chest puffing out as he blocks the doorway. I can spot two guards just past him as he uses himself as a wall of defense between the men inside and me. My stomach twists at his willingness to put himself in harm’s way for me, but I can’t let my thoughts linger there. My head needs to be clear for this meeting.

“Alpha Draven is here for the meeting,” Monte says, his voice hard, accepting no other option than admittance. The guards’ brows crease as they attempt to peer around him, clearly looking for my father’s imposing figure. My chest tightens at that, remembering what Monte had said about my father’s death. He, along with the few other betas in my father’s inner circle that were helping to iron out the details of the arrangement, informed Alpha Whitlock of my father’s death, and they all agreed to keep the information away from the public until I came to town. Our own pack is sworn to the same secrecy—until now, it seems. Even the details of his murder were only shared with myself and his inner circle. There’ll be no way to keep this hidden after my meeting here today. Well, this should be interesting.

I pull my power to me, the power all alphas have, their dominance, used to keep their packs and lower-ranking wolves in line. It’s something we’re born with, and something I’m going to have to get used to using more often than not now. Especially being a female alpha in a male-dominated world.

My hand slips around Monte’s bicep, and the guard’s eyes widen in surprise at the red manicured nails and silver rings adorning the slender fingers of my right hand. Monte moves aside at the press of my fingers against his arm, and I push forth my power, not allowing the two wolves any time to doubt my strength.

They incline their heads before the force even hits them, already feeling the magnitude of power pulsing from me. “This way.” One of them gestures, a hand to the door behind them, the area they stand in only a small entryway with a reinforced steel door on the other side. We wait for them to open it before stepping forward, allowing the second guard to go through first. There was no way I would allow us to be potentially trapped in such a small area, regardless of their acceptance of my power.

It takes great effort not to balk at the sight that meets us once past the enclosure. Monte’s reassuring presence presses at my back as he permits the door to close behind us. He was right when he said looks can be deceiving. Despite the dilapidated exterior, the interior is the polar opposite. A large well-lit dining room stretches out before us, made even more imposing by the hard lines of the furniture and black walls. Numerous halls lining the long room help the occasional white patches to breach the otherwise solid black surrounding us.Is that a metal wolf sculpture?Monte places a hand at the small of my back, drawing my attention back to the guards already making their way down the closest hallway. We follow behind them, our strides long and leisurely, leaving them waiting for us. I conceal the smile that begs to stretch across my lips, glad that my shock can also be used as a way to take some power back.