“Beta? Jackson breaks through the mind link waking me. “James? Where are you?” “I’m out at Amalea’s house,” I reply groggily. “What? You better get back fast! The fight is set to start in less than an hour! I've been looking everywhere for you.” Shit. I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I sit up, slip on my shoes, wrap the flower chain neatly around my wrist for luck, and head for town. I’m surprised by the turnout when I get there. Every member of the pack and then some seems to have gathered overnight. The streets are lined with cars, and there are people everywhere. It’s overwhelming after being so isolated in Cold Bay, almost suffocating, especially because people keep trying to talk to me. Whether wishing me luck, offering me guidance, or sarcastically saying their goodbyes, they just won’t leave me alone. I just want to get to the arena. As my anger rises, a path begins to part for me until I run into Jackson. “You’re clearly already in the right head space,” he laughs, “your ener
A moan slips from my lips as he sucks gently at my neck, the pressure of his body atop mine leading my mind to places I never thought it would go for him. I pull my hand from his hair, and push his shirt up, tracing the firm muscles of his abs. He pulls his teeth from my neck, hovering there, his lips just grazing the skin. I press closer to him, opening my legs more so that he can slip between them. He lifts his head and looks me in the eye when I do. I hate him. What am I doing? I lean forward off the bed, suddenly kissing him, tasting my coppery blood on his lips. He doesn’t kiss me back at first, seemingly surprised for a moment, before he does, deeply, his tongue mingling with mine. I feel him pull closer to me as his hand trails down my neck, and then lower, grazing my nipple, before sliding down to my hip. He grips it, his kiss growing hungry as I reach to undo his belt. He lifts himself slightly, letting me, as he breaks the kiss to pull my nightshirt over my head before smas
The bond does go both ways, and it’s not to a lesser degree, but I can’t let her know the effect she has on me—the power she has over me. I can’t afford to be weak. I learned my lesson with Laurali, or at least I thought I did. My dick clearly didn’t. I shift uncomfortably as I make my way to my bathroom to release the pressure before my balls explode. I could have at least finished, but that wouldn’t have been fair to her. I should have never kissed her, touched her, thrusted inside her. I’m only making things worse. She just looks so much like Laurali. She even smells like her. I should have told her the whole story, what really happened all those years ago. Laurali was older than me, much older, an envoy of the fae court, royalty even, here to try to bring the eastern packs into the peace accord. I remember the first time I saw her. I was 25, a pup really by hybrid standards. She walked onto the training grounds, and when the sun hit her, her hair shined like fire and her skin gl
Bacon? Does he really think he can buy my forgiveness with bacon? He didn’t even stick around to apologize in person, just crept in, left food, and crawled away like the coward he is. I sit up in bed, eying the plate on the bedside table. That bacon does look perfectly cooked, though.I grab a piece, hop off the bed, and wander over to the window, staring off into the empty yard below, suddenly realizing I’m looking to see if he’s out there. Why am I looking for him? Why do I expect him to apologize at all, to be sorry? I’m his possession, a pet he plays with when he’s bored. He doesn’t care about me. Fuck, the bacon probably is just to make sure my iron levels stay up, so his meals keep coming.I made a fool of myself last night, and he set me up to do it. He knew all along what his venom was doing to me, making me care about him, want him. I mean at least the men who visited me in cell six had the balls to be honest about their intentions.What Darius has done is worse. He made me w
The last week has been a blur of meetings and heated discussions. Somehow, I’ve managed to arrange Jackson’s appointment as my Beta and get at least a hazy notion of my new responsibilities. I mean, I had some idea from my prior position, but it’s different when you’re the one in the hot seat.There are so many moving parts to keep in sync, and I’m doing it all while trying to gain an audience with the council to plead Amalea’s case. I hate how long all this is taking, but I have to do this right if I’m going to pull it off. That means following all the proper protocols—including giving Marcus a proper funeral.Admittedly, I find that more intimidating than the challenge fight was. I have to face Alicia. She may have rejected me and treated me like trash, but part of me still cares for her, and I killed her brother. I get the feeling she’s not going to be as friendly as she was at our last meeting.If she convinces Anthony to challenge me, things could get rough. He’s not out of pract
It feels like my head is underwater today—far too many bourbons and not enough sleep. Why do I do this to myself? You’d think hangovers wouldn’t exist for werewolves, but nope. We can heal from a gunshot wound or stabbing, but a little strain on the kidneys, and we’re as weak as a human. Anthony was right about Alicia, too. She’s changed nearly every element of this stupid funeral—some twice—in the last 8 hours, and I’m left trying to both avoid her and comply with her requests. He was her brother. I keep reminding myself of that. I don’t have any siblings myself, but I hear that’s a strong bond. Now she wants a podium to give a eulogy. Not just any podium, either. It needs to be made from oak, painted black, and trimmed with lilies—fucking white lilies—as if Marcus gave two fucks about flowers. She can’t just stand on the lake bank like everyone else. Of course not, that wouldn’t make any extra work for me. I’m an alpha now. I shouldn’t even have to put up with this shit, and yet,
I expected to find myself in chains, or a cell at the very least, but this has been more like a vacation so far—luxury cars and comfortable accommodations. Such a stark contrast to how Amalea was held. Another undeserved perk of being at the top of the tower. Maybe I took a step up of my own merit, but I was never at the bottom, and the difference rank makes is a hard reality I’ve ignored for far too long. Even so, unjust as it is, I can’t say I’m wishing for a dungeon. I’m also learning that nothing moves quickly within the council. Sure, they were quick to bring me in, but it seems that was just for public appearances. Damage control for Alicia’s choice to make a mockery of her own brother’s funeral. Now they are content to just keep me waiting. Maybe that’s the torture—keeping me here with nothing to do when I have so much that I need to do. Bore me to death. I haven’t even had a chance to give my side of the story, not that I have any idea what story Alicia gave to refute it. I’m
Anthony was true to his word. A guard came to let me know I was free to return to my pack within hours after he left. Getting the council to agree to meet with me has taken much longer, and I’m not leaving until they give me an audience.That last book was a truly interesting read indeed. It’s a record of the pack bloodlines going back generations. I was a bit disappointed to find the pages covering some of the older Darkwood lines missing, but Blood Moon’s history was present in full detail, and Darius is looking pretty youthful for someone in his 80s.I’m curious how he’s managed to explain that, but then, Blood Moon has always been reclusive, and his father ruled longer than most alphas manage to hold control. The man was elderly by werewolf standards, though he looked it. Darius has really only been in the public eye for around a decade. No matter how he’s kept his secret under wraps, I’m about to rip it open for the world to see. A hybrid at the head of one of the most powerful