Chapter 37

Sam

I wiped my palms on my jeans, more nervous for this meeting than I probably should have been. I couldn't help the sinking trepidation that made my legs drag like lead. Should Megan not remain a wolf, my most likely future stood behind the doors in front of us.

"Deep breath, dude." Cade nudged me, sensing my unease.

"Cade, if things don't work…" I trailed off, and he looked at me sympathetically.

"I know. Let's just get through the meeting. It might be horrendous, and there'll be no question of you two matching up." He tried to sound hopeful. I forced a laugh.

"Yeah. She probably has three eyes and horns."

Cade rolled his eyes and opened the door.

Sarah Thornehill did not have three eyes or horns. She was there, front and center, seated between Dad and Mr. Thornehill, other wolves from both packs in the background. She was beautiful—light blonde hair that barely met her shoulders, eyes green like celery, and pale skin with a gentle upturned nose. She was stunning, but I felt nothing beyond a polite curiosity and an objective opinion about her looks. Wolf even recoiled, and a twisted part of me was relieved that there was no pull of attraction to her. I swallowed as I noted Cade's inhale beside me. Dad's eyes followed me closely, and I carefully schooled my features to look polite, but blank.

"Samuel, come meet Sarah Thornehill." They all stood. "You already know her father, Austin." I nodded respectfully at him and turned to Sarah.

"Hi, Sarah." I smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Her voice had a lyric quality.

I scented her neck at a polite distance, and she did the same. Rain-washed spring. But not the sunshine and roses I wanted. "This is Cade Rivers, my son's second," Dad continued with introductions.

"Nice to meet you both," Cade said before exchanging scents with both of them. Was it my imagination, or was there interest in Cade's eyes?

We all sat, and the other wolves from both packs settled themselves in their own conversations around the room. There were other social meetings going on in our private room, but ours was the only political and mate-related meeting to my knowledge.

"Samuel, your dad tells me you're a fine young man," Mr. Thornehill opened. I felt my ears turn red. What had Dad said? I glanced over at him. His eyes were warm, but the rest of him sat stern, as unmovable as stone.

I cleared my throat. "Thank you," I said, unsure what else to say.

"There's been an unexpected event since we last spoke. I probably should have called but knew that we had other business to attend to," Dad intervened. "Without beating around the bush, Sam has met his mate." Dad's turn to clear his throat.

Mr. Thornehill's eyebrows shot up. "Well, in that case, congratulations!" He reached out and shook my hand. Sarah said nothing, her face unreadable, but her shoulders sagged a fraction of an inch. I wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment. "I have to say, I was hoping you and Sarah would hit it off." He looped an arm around his daughter's shoulders. "But finding your mate is a rare and beautiful thing." He smiled genuinely, and Wolf slowly let his shoulders relax.

"Thank you. We're very happy," I stammered, knowing I was elated, not sure where Megan stood, but also unsure what else to say.

"With that in mind, how would you like to proceed?" Dad asked, all business again. No time for trivial emotional mess.

"Even though we won't be making an alliance with a mating ceremony," Mr. Thornehill said as I caught Dad's thick swallow. Guilt fluttered in my gut. I shoved it away. Megan had to stay wolf. What would Dad tell the Thornehills if Megan walked away in skin? That their potential son-in-law broke one of the cardinal rules—an offense that would possibly ruin any alliance with the Thornehill pack? That she had died? That I was untethered? Ice lodged in my spine as a horrible thought took root. If Megan were dead, then I—the pack—would be literally freed of the encumberment I'd caused. I forced myself to breathe through my nose at a normal rate. Flashes of Megan crouched behind the concrete barrier wall as the black sedan screeched away crashed through my brain, and I blinked. Cade subtly elbowed me, and with some effort, I focused in on the conversation once more.

"I still think a formal alliance between our packs could benefit us both." Dad nodded at Mr. Thornehill's words. A frown creased between the blond man's eyebrows. "There's been talk." His voice lowered with the gravity of the words he was about to utter. "Talk of an uprising."

An uprising? Wolf raised his head and perked both ears forward. This was the first I'd heard of such a thing.

"An uprising of wolves?" Dad clarified, shock evident in his voice.

Mr. Thornehill nodded his head. "There are rumors of a growing unrest among some of our population that think humans should no longer be our equals."

Dad's eyes widened and his nostrils flared. "This cannot be."

Icy tendrils started winding through my veins. I felt Cade tense beside me and noted the worry etched on Sarah's forehead.

"Wolves are meant to protect and serve. Not to rule," Dad continued in a voice that carried his authority.

"Our sentiments as well," Mr. Thornehill agreed with another nod. "We will keep our noses to the ground up north. I trust you and your pack will do the same. Should something arise, it would be in everyone's best interest to quash things quickly and quietly. Together, if necessary."

"Agreed."

The icy tendrils wove their way around my heart. If it got out that werewolves existed, that some were trying to take over the human population—rewrite the entire system of government in the United States—mass pandemonium and witch hunts that put Salem to shame would sweep the nation. It would destroy not only the werewolf population, but essentially thrust America into a dark age. No one would trust their neighbor, discrimination, enslavement, murder on a Hitleresque scale, nothing was beyond the realm of possibility.

"Mind you, I've only heard rumors. I've no concrete proof of anything," Mr. Thornehill was saying, "but I felt it wise to inform you."

"We appreciate that," Dad said as he encompassed me in his gaze. I nodded my agreement.

The rest of the meeting took a lighter tone as we discussed more trivial matters and outlined the key players in our packs, and how communications should work as we felt it would be in everyone's best interest for our packs to become more acquainted. While the shock of the uprising rumors faded, I still felt a slither of unease. Whether it was lingering nerves or worry over what would happen with Megan, I wasn't sure. My senses stayed heightened.

About eight p.m., the formal side of things wrapped up, and we stood.

"Shall we continue pack acquaintances here tomorrow or meet more informally?" Dad asked the Thornehills as he sipped the last of his coffee.

"I think having our ranking pack members meet here briefly and then interspersed throughout the festival might be the most unobtrusive." He glanced at Sarah, and she nodded. "Sarah, why don't you go on with Sam and Cade and meet a few other pack youth while we finish things up here?"

"Of course," she replied, turning a polite smile on us. I hoped Megan wouldn't be opposed to meeting Sarah, and that her wolf wouldn't overreact. My own wolf was ready to be next to Megan again. I needed the reassurance that she was still mine—and I was still hers.