Twenty four year old, Asher 'Ash' Hunter has a reputation as an Alpha who never loses. But by deciding to choose his mate for him, his father has just challenged him to the biggest game of his life.
Plagued by rogue attacks, secret plots, and the s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The woman that entered the room had a deceptively harmless air about her. She wore attire more suited to a bygone era. Grey hair framed a thousand wrinkles, and she carried a long, ornately carved cane. Her eyes, however, glistened like sharpened steel; they saw everything, missed nothing... and were currently firmly fixed on her nephew.
She marched over to his desk, a militant expression on her face. "Is it true?"
"Good morning, aunt Sarah,” Asher quipped. “Is what true?"
"That there's been another one."
Ah, the body in the woods. The pack’s rumour mill was apparently in full swing this morning. "Yes."
His aunt bristled. "And what is being done about it?"
He fixed Sarah with a look that would have cowed most of his pack. "We're dealing with it. Was there anything else you'd like to talk about?"
Sarah was not most of the pack. She ignored the warning. "Is it linked to the others?"
"We're dealing with it," he reiterated firmly.
Sarah often forgot that pack business wasn't necessarily her business... it was one of the primary reasons his father had leapt at the chance to transfer her to his son's pack. "Was it Him?" she persisted.
"We are dealing with it."
They glared at each other for a solid minute, her lips pressing into a thin line of irritation.
Asher arranged his own expression into one of sublime disinterest; it was still far too early for an extended battle of wills. He waited.
"Are the humans are still in dark?" she finally conceded. "That, at least, is my business."
"Arthur is handling the diplomacy side of things."
Sarah let out a small snort of approval. For some reason, she carried quite a soft spot for the detective. Temporarily sated, she seated herself in the chair Katherine had not long vacated and eyed her nephew coldly. "You weren't at breakfast this morning."
"No, for obvious reasons." Asher stood up, stretching the kinks out of his limbs.
"You weren't there yesterday either."
Nor the day before, he continued for her silently. He'd been deliberately avoiding the onset of the conversation he knew his aunt was now working up to. "I've been busy."
She cast a condescending gaze about the room, her sharp eyes taking in the multiple piles of unfinished paperwork. "I can see that."
He held back a natural impulse to snap at her; he knew it wasn't worth the fall out. "Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss?” he asked glibly. “Anything not related to my love life, preferably,” he added under his breath.
