Twenty Six year old Blake Hunter is the Alpha of the largest pack in the region. Finding his mate is the last thing on his mind.
But, in the midst of dealing with uninvited relations, aspiring future Lunas and increasing rogue attacks on his easter...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The hour was late. So late, Asher expected at any moment to hear the start of the dawn chorus filtering through the windows.
He had sat staring moodily into the dying fire for so long that the armchair had moulded itself around him. The warm leather created such a luxuriously comfortable resting place, that he couldn't be bothered to move.
He could have left entirely, of course. Made his excuses and returned to Darkmoon with the shreds of his dignity fluttering around him like tattered rags. But his stubborn streak refused to give his father the satisfaction. Instead he had retreated to Blake's study to rail against the world in silence.
How dare he? his wolf snarled for the umpteenth time, setting his teeth in edge. How dare he think to --
Asher winced, the full weight of Zephyr's displeasure making his head ache. He glared at the amber liquid in his glass through half-closed eyes. The whisky probably wasn't helping either.
Of course he dared. 'Heavy-handed' was the least tempestuous way to describe his father when he wanted his way, and he always wanted his way. He wondered vaguely if the poor girl Avery had chosen for him had been given much of a choice either. More likely her parents would have thrown her directly in Avery's path at the chance to mate into the Hunter family. Not that it mattered one way or the other.
It wasn't happening.
He had just finished contemplating the ludicrous but tempting idea of changing his name and fleeing the country, when his brother walked in with an expression on his face far more serious than you'd expect to see on a newly mated wolf.
"Is everything alright?"
"I'm not sure," Blake responded in a worried voice, entirely unperturbed to find his brother in his private study. He headed towards the drink’s cabinet in search of the whiskey.
"She hasn't thrown you out already, has she?" Asher joked. His brother didn't respond, such a strange look on his face that he sat up in concern. "Has she?"
Blake looked up. "Don't be ridiculous, she's asleep." He hesitated a moment. "I received a summons, of a sort. I've just been with our father."
"Ah." Asher said lightly as though this were all the explanation needed.
Blake shot him an irritated look. "I know you're not on the best of terms with him right now but, this is serious."
"Really? What kind of terms am I supposed to be on with a man that's just announced he's chosen my mate for me?" Asher asked, his eyes dangerously dark.
"Yes, ok I see your point." Blake conceded wearily. “I admit, I didn't see that one coming.”
Asher snorted. That makes two of us. "So, what has the old man demanded now?"
Blake shook his head. "Nothing. I was just filling him in on everything we've learned so far."
“Let me guess? You told him about them.”
“I did. He wasn't impressed to discover the existence of two born rogues in our midst. Even less so to learn they're both still breathing. Remind me again,” Blake gave him a look. “Why is Fenrik still breathing?”
“Why is Meagan?” Asher countered with a sour look, then held up a hand in a pacifying gesture before his brother could retort. “I know, I'm sorry.” He rubbed his forehead with one hand wearily. “I'm tired, ignore me.”
Blake grunted. “You should sleep at night.”
“You know what I still haven't figured out?” Asher muttered, swirling the ice around in his glass. “How Fenrick withstood the madness, but Meagan couldn't. I always thought born rogues were immune to the feral pull.” He looked up. “You met them both, what did you make of them?”
“Besides an urge to rip their throats out? I think – " Blake paused, a furrow to his brow as he poured himself a drink. "I think it had more to do with their parentage, than their position. A born rogue feels no pull towards a pack, and neither does their wolf.
But Meagan’s father was an Alpha, and that blood ran through his veins from the moment he drew breath. As soon as he shifted, as soon as his wolf stirred... those two sides of him were at war with one another. Meagan wanted to belong in the pack. He wanted his blood-right. But I saw his wolf. It had no concept of submitting to anyone, and you could see him fighting against Syrus every step of the way.”
“Makes sense,” Asher muttered. So, Meagan could be the exception, not the norm. “You realise that means Fenrik is proof that a rogue society could exist outside of pack control.”
“I do. Which is why father thinks they're so dangerous.” Blake turned to Asher, a clear warning in his eyes. “I hope you know what you're doing handing him over like that.”
Asher held his gaze a moment, then returned to contemplating his drink. “I always do." He stretched lazily. "So, ready to go straight to all out war is he?"
"Not quite, but if I didn't know any better, I'd say he almost looked worried."
“And? He's just found out we could be heading for another Rouge War. Find me someone who wouldn't be worried.”
“Father,” Blake said bluntly. “At least, not to this extent. And it wasn't even about the rogues, anyway. He was his usual self until I mentioned the vampire. Then he paled and looked... I don't know how to describe it... Unnerved.”
Asher pursed his lips, only mildly interested. “He has no reason to hate them, does he?”
“No. I mean, he fought them in the Shadow Wars of course, but he was also instrumental in negotiating peace. Besides, it would be pretty damn hypocritical of him considering his own son's situation. But I've never seen him looked as worried as he did when I brought it up.”
“Maybe that's it then,” Asher shrugged. “He's afraid they might influence Tristan in some way if they find out about him. Not that it isn't inevitable at some point anyway. You can't blame the boy for wanting to know more about the other side of his heritage.”
Asher’s indifference only seemed to deepen his brother's exasperation. “Ash! The man's a rock. He wouldn't know fear if it hit him in the face. But I swear, when I mentioned the idea of sending a delegation to the vampire council, he looked almost scared.”
“Oh, calm down,” Asher reassured him, too distracted to concentrate on examining the conundrum that was their father. “He's a mystery, always has been. Even his secrets have secrets. If he decides he wants to share them with us, he will. If he doesn't, you'll have more luck getting a rock to bleed. Besides,” he relaxed further into the chair. “Don't you have more important things to worry about right now?”
“Yes, you're right.” Blake's frown deepened, and he dropped into a chair opposite his brother. “Kaden has his work cut out for him. Elmwood is not a stable pack right now, and they're right on my doorstep.”
