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...
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Syrus Hallow was a small man who had spent much of his time as Alpha trying to ensure that the other Alphas noticed him.
He was cursed with a long thin nose that twitched when he talked and thin, colourless lips. His teeth were yellowing, his hair greying and his skin was dry and paper thin.
He had already been Alpha for nearly a decade by the time Blake took his father's place in Blackridge, and Blake had never personally met the previous Alpha of Elmwood. But he remembered Reuban Hallow as a cruel and callous man that his father had loathed to deal with.
The son - though quick to put an end to some of the more brutal practices of his father's reign - had inherited his calculating, greedy demeanour. None of the servile and simpering smiles he offered Blake ever reached his eyes, and his hands constantly twisted the Alpha ring on his finger, drawing attention to his status whenever possible.
Despite his obvious desire to garner an alliance with the more powerful Alpha, it clearly rankled that Blake could look down on him, even though they were technically of equal rank.
Most months went by with at least one email from the Elmwood pack. Trivial snippets of half-useful information delivered in such a way as to encourage a reply from the Alpha that received it. He had perfected the art of trading information for the things he wanted; usually recognition, authority and an advantage over the other pack leaders.
Syrus had chosen to meet Blake's delegation in his study, an opulent and luxurious room - a far cry from the rest of the pack house's condition. No expense had been spared on the furnishings and home comforts and it was obviously well maintained and cared for.
This was where Syrus held court in his pack. His real seat of power.
Fortunately Blake had prepared well for this meeting.
"Keep quiet and let me do all the talking," Blake had instructed his companions earlier that morning. "Syrus is a proud man - he expects to speak to the Alpha, not his subordinates."
Traditionally, Alphas brought delegations of three or four suitable wolves with them when they travelled to foreign packs. It ensured that balanced discussions, debates and negotiations could take place between the pack leaders without the Alpha's having to shoulder all the little details.
However, after a little digging, Blake discovered that Syrus preferred to handle all the little details himself. The game is what he thrived on, and it often resulted in their pack getting the best end of any deals on the table. Luckily for Blake, negotiation was his gift as well, and he knew Syrus wouldn't be able to resist playing him at his own game.
"Foolishness," muttered Simon when he'd been told to mind his manners.
"Yes, it is," Blake had agreed. "But that's how it has to be."
Pushing Syrus to where he wanted him wasn't going to be easy... making Syrus believe he'd walked out on top? Even less so. "Oh! And absolutely no communicating through the pack-link from this point on," he warned them.
