2. Jace

Voices reverberated back and forth, everyone talking over each other, trying to be heard. It took everything I had not to shout them down, but this was part of the process. The pack only had a full meeting once per year. This was not the happy and cathartic monthly runs we did together to blow off steam. This was where grievances were aired, problems were voiced, plans for the next year were made. And as the pack alpha, it was my duty to hear them all out.

The discussions played out the way they always had, though as the decades and centuries had clicked past, our vernacular had changed. Living as long as we did required us to keep up with the times. In my own life, I'd listened as people around me spoke first in Victorian speech patterns and slang, then the Edwardian era, the rabble-rousing speech used in the eras of the World Wars, then the modern era, switching and morphing along as the world turned around us. We weren't just able to shift our bodies; over the centuries, we had learned to shift our habits and customs to fit in with the surrounding world.

Across the room, my best friend Waylan caught my eye and shook his head slightly with a sarcastic grin on his face. He knew how silly some of these issues were. For every true need or problem, there were a half-dozen ridiculous things that didn't need to be discussed here. Waylan was on the council that helped me run things, and there were more important things on their plate than whether we should plant cucumbers or squash in the community garden next spring.

"All right," I called during a lull in the conversations. "I think we can table the garden question until later."

An older man shook his head. "Jace, if we don't decide now, how will we—"

"Doug, we'll enjoy whatever grows, whether it's cucumbers or squash. I'm sure. Whatever else we need, we can get at the stores. The damn garden isn't the end-all and be-all. We aren't settlers on the frontier."

He opened his mouth to retort, but I cut in before he could speak. "Tabitha, you had something you wanted to bring up?" I asked, pointing across the room.

The young woman stood, smiling hesitantly. "Yes, I wanted to talk about the children in the pack. I know we don't have a lot of them, but the amount of extracurricular activities they have is pretty lacking during the summer months, which is where we find ourselves. I have to agree with that sentiment."

I glanced to my left at Abigail, one of my council members. This was up her alley, and way above my head. I had no children. That thought made bitter anger rise at the back of my mind, and my inner wolf growled, but I tamped the emotions down and concentrated on the exchange between Abigail and Tabitha. Even though I didn't know a lot about what kids liked or needed, whatever the two of them worked out together, I would have the final say.

Most of my time was spent toeing the line between authoritative control and compassion. The last thing I wanted was to be a bad alpha. My people were good, happy. They deserved a kind alpha who would listen to their complaints and do his best to make sure their lives were as comfortable and safe as possible.

Not every pack alpha thought that way, though. Some were controlling and petty.

Like Eren Miller.

Again, my inner wolf rumbled a low growl that I had to stifle. Eren was a rival pack alpha who had been a pain in my ass for decades. A prick who liked to run his pack like he was a king deserving of worship rather than a protector. Of course, his pack lands were closer to mine than any other. I hated him, and he hated me. Neither of us cared to mend that relationship and only interacted when absolutely necessary.

The discussion about the children went on for another ten minutes, with several others chiming in. When Abigail turned to me after hearing all of the ideas, I'd already made my decision on what to do. All I had to do was give my blessing.

"What do you think, Jace?" Abigail asked. "Can the pack afford adding a few things for the kids?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Let's put together a… what did you call it, Tabitha? An extracurricular fund? A few hundred bucks per kid for some art and music classes or something. Waylan, can we manage that?"

He was tapping away on his phone, likely using the calculator app. He handled most of the pack's finances. After a few seconds, he looked at me and gave a thumbs-up. "All good."

"Great," I said. "Maybe put the word out to see if anyone wants to volunteer as a baseball or basketball coach? We could do some organized games on Saturdays in the summer as well. How does that sound?"

Tabitha smiled and nodded eagerly. "That sounds great, yeah. Amazing."

More discussions came up, but things were winding down. A blessing. This had been one of the longer yearly meetings in recent memory. Though, my hopes of getting out of here without any personal drama vanished when Brad Thomas stood and made his way to my chair while Abigail argued against some school topic. From the look on Brad's face, I pretty much knew what he wanted to talk about.

After approaching and leaning close, he whispered. "Do you have a minute to talk in private? After this is all over?" He tilted his head toward the full room.

Clenching and unclenching my jaw, I nodded. With a stiff smile, I said, "Sure. I'll meet you in the back room."

Brad nodded and returned to his seat. For the millionth time, I wondered if they knew. Had my secret gotten out? Could someone have guessed? I prayed not, but I'd find out fast as soon as the meeting was over. As one of the pack elders, Brad had a lot of sway. It usually wasn't a good sign when he wanted a word alone.

Fifteen minutes later, the pack filed out to head back to their homes. Waylan walked over and squatted beside my chair.

"You good? That look on your face looks a little… I don't know, pissy."

"Brad wants to talk," I said. "In private."

Waylan winced. "Do you think he's gonna ask you about—"

"Of course he is. It's been decades, and I still don't have an heir." I grumbled. "Shit, here he comes. I'll talk to you later."

Before Waylan could reply, I was out of my seat and moving toward the back room to meet Brad. Once inside, I closed and locked the door behind us.

"All right, Brad, what can I do for you?"

A deep, weary sigh was the only response I got for a few seconds. When he looked up at me, I could see the worry and anxiety in his eyes.

"Jace, have you, uh, thought any more about choosing a mate? I know we talked about this a couple years ago, but some of us are getting a bit worried."

Crossing my arms, I leaned back against the door. "Things happen in their own time, Brad. You know that."

"Yes, I know, but you're 125 years old. Don't you think maybe it's time to do a little legwork on your own rather than leaving it all up to fate?"

For humans, one and a quarter century was like an eternity. For shifters, our lives were much longer. At 125, I looked closer to forty, but Brad was right. I'd been alpha for a long time without a mate, and with no heir in sight, I'm sure the elders were getting more anxious by the year.

"I don't want to settle, Brad. Can't you understand that? My mate should be the person I'm truly meant to be with. This isn't something that can be rushed." And dear God, I hope you don't find out I've been lying to you for almost a century, I added in my head.

Brad nodded, giving me a placating smile. "I do. I really do, but you have to see things from everyone else's point of view. What happens if you get hit by a truck tomorrow? Or some rival pack decides to take you down? Do you know what kind of chaos will erupt without an heir?"

I did know. It was something that kept me awake some nights. No alpha meant there would be a power vacuum. People in the pack would scatter, or worse yet, they would fight about who would be the new alpha. And while they argued about it, they would be open for takeover by nearby packs. My skin crawled at the thought of Eren swooping in and swallowing my pack into his.

"I get it, Brad. I really do. I'll tell you what, I'll think more about it this summer. Maybe you're right. Maybe, uh, maybe fate needs a little help from me. We can readdress it this fall. Sound like a plan?"

Brad's face broke into a relieved smile. "That would be great, Jace. It would ease a lot of minds."

One more lie. But what was another rock added to a mountain? It would buy me four or five months, but then what? I'd be right back in this room, having this same conversation. Dodging questions and hiding my secret.

Brad departed, happier and more relieved than before, and I headed for my house, feeling heavier with guilt and more cornered than before. Waylan stood waiting in my living room when I stepped inside.

"Well? Was it as bad as we thought?" he asked as I flopped onto the sofa beside him.

"Yup," I grunted.

"They haven't figured it out, have they?"

"No. It looks like they're still buying the same story I've been pawning off for the last few decades."

"Maybe you should own up to it? Every year that goes by, I can see how much this curse is weighing on you."

"Absolutely not," I hissed, sitting forward. "If it gets out that I've been cursed, it'll be just as bad as dying with no heir. Chaos and danger everywhere. No way."

Waylan sat back and blew his cheeks out. "Look, some witch shouldn't cause your whole life to be one big lie, Jace. It was, like, close to a hundred years ago."

The memory floated to the front of my mind. The forest, the woman, a single bad decision on my part, and then the end of everything. My life had been one long problem ever since. Cursed to never find a mate, to never know love. A life without a partner, without children, without peace. And to think people thought witches were nothing more than fairy tales. Hell, if I did tell the truth, would anyone believe me?

"We can still try to find a witch," I said, hoping the desperation boiling inside me wasn't leaking into my voice.

Waylan shook his head, pity written all over his face. "We've looked for years, bro. Witches are rare as all hell. They don't get found unless they want to be found. Or, you stumble across one in a one-in-a-million chance, like someone I know," he said, looking pointedly at me. "For all we know, they really have died out. Extinct, like everyone else in the world thinks."

"No," I said vehemently, to the point of startling myself. "I refuse to believe that. We will find one. I'll pay them whatever they want if they can get this curse off me. I'm not giving up."

Waylan held his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. We can keep looking, but I've pretty much exhausted any contacts I have outside the pack. I'm not sure where we go from here."

Every time we talked about this, I became more and more frustrated. Waylan was a good friend, the best I could ask for. Not only did he keep my deepest secret hidden, he also dealt with me when I got like this. I hated talking about the curse, I hated not knowing how to break it, and I hated that a foolish mistake so many years ago would haunt me for as long as it has. All I wanted was a mate to love and care for. Someone to complete me.

"I'm going for a run," I said, standing and heading toward the door.

"Want company?" Waylan called.

"Nah, I need to think."

Without another word, I was out the door. The sun had vanished below the horizon, casting a red-orange glow in the sky. I wasn't even out of my yard before I shifted and sprinted towards the forest that surrounded our pack lands. Within minutes, the stress of the day began to fade, leaving me calm and relaxed as my paws skimmed over the dirt and grass beneath me.

To really let loose, I pushed my wolf body as hard as it would go. The inner wolf part of my mind leapt in joy. At one point, we howled like mad, and the forest erupted with noise as birds, squirrels, and deer fled. I'd almost forgotten about the curse, about the pack wanting me to take a mate, until I realized where I'd ventured.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, I found myself on the outskirts of the property where my life had changed forever. The scent and power of the magic that surrounded the small house ripped me from my reverie. Despite myself, I padded forward, wending through the trees. For some reason, I wanted to see the cabin.

The closer I drew, the stronger the magic, and the more I was reminded of how my curse came to be. A warm summer night like this—in fact, it was almost the exact same time of year. I hadn't seen the place in forever, had avoided it like the plague.

The curse not only kept me from finding a mate or falling in love with any woman, it also prevented me from crossing the boundary of the cabin itself. A final ward to keep me from coming back for revenge, maybe? I didn't know the reason, but whatever it was, I'd found the barrier. A tacky, almost static hum surged through my bones, and I took a step back until the pain faded. If I pushed it too far, the pain would be unimaginable. Sitting back on my haunches, I gazed through the forest at the house.

It had been vacant for years. If memory served, the last people who'd lived there had been an older lady and a young girl, perhaps a daughter, but most likely a granddaughter. I vaguely remembered Waylan talking about them, but I'd never laid eyes on either one. The cabin was on the very outskirts of our official pack lands, and I despised seeing the place.

A small growl rumbled in my chest at the sight of a light on in one of the windows. Someone was here? After all these years? Almost as an answer, the silhouette of a human passed by the window, hidden by the curtain across the glass.

Pawing at the ground, I wondered if the old woman had come back. Or perhaps the girl, now grown, was visiting. Strange that she'd be gone so long only to return now.

The front door of the cabin opened then, snapping me out of my thoughts. Whoever was inside didn't come out for me to see them. Instead, they tossed a full-to-bursting garbage out onto the porch. I didn't care about the bag, though. As soon as the door opened, a strange scent filled my nose. Delightfully bitter and strong—the best smell in the whole world. Strong brewed coffee with a hint of cream, but something about it told me it wasn't just a smell from inside the cabin. It was the person in the cabin itself.

What?

My wolf went mad from the smell, too, almost enough to make me lose control. We stood, clawing at the ground, desperate to rush the cabin, curse be damned, though that would mean death. I wrested back control of my inner beast, but only barely, a whine of desire squeaking from my chest. Finally, I had to shift back to my human form to regain full control. I pressed my hand to a tree and leaned forward, taking deep, steadying breaths, but that smell of coffee filled my nostrils, tendrils of scent winding their way into my skull, tickling my brain. Strangest of all was the deep, aching tug in my chest and the surprising stirring between my legs. What the fuck was happening to me?

The cabin door opened again, and I slipped behind the tree, keeping my gaze locked on the house to see exactly who the hell smelled so damned good. A woman stepped out. The porch light illuminated her as she picked up the trash bag and carried it to a garbage bin next to the car in the driveway. Slim yet curvy, hair as black as night, and a face that could stop traffic. My legs shook so badly that I slid to the ground, taking a knee to steady myself, but I never took my eyes away from her. Confusion and fear warred in my head. I'd never felt this before. Had no clue what was going on.

Deep in my mind, the hungry voice of my inner wolf purred into my ear. The single word was like a punch to the gut.

"Mate."