24. Tyler

It's been exactlytwenty-four hours—give or take a heartbeat or two—since our world turned upside down. Alpha Hughes is pacing a path into the luxurious carpet of the clan house's entertainment room. Shadows from the silent news flicker on the TV, deepening the lines of concern etched into his rugged, once carefree face. Every so often, he pauses to shoot a withering glare at the screen, as if hoping his alpha intensity could somehow alter the grim reality we're facing.

Hunters are attacking on clan lands. It's all over the news.

"What's the latest, Zane?" he probes, his voice a mix of gravel and velvet—evidence of the sleepless night we all had.

Zane, my biological father, with his salt-and-pepper ginger beard that's more salt these days, gives the alpha a slow blink. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now reflect our collective exhaustion. Despite the tension clinging to us, Zane's calm presence is like a rock. The attack put us all on edge, especially after it targeted one of our youngest—a cub too young to shift, who was guilty of nothing more than enjoying the sunshine.

When the hunter went after the cub, an ordinary human stepped in. His weapon, a sawed-off shotgun turned tool of justice, was the last thing anyone anticipated. And he didn't flinch in using it.

Zane finally answers, his voice as rough as worn leather. "We've tallied two less hunters in the world, a cub with shadows in his eyes, a beta with a head ringing louder than the clan's alarm bells," he enumerates, pausing for dramatic effect to snap his fingers, "and let's not forget a whole clan running on fumes."

Alpha Hughes, in his state of rumpled authority, throws his hands up in a gesture of frustrated surrender. "What's your grand plan, Zane?"

"Sleep, Alpha. It's the only option that makes sense right now," Zane advises, his gaze sweeping over us. Beside me, Ethan's head bobs in a tired nod, his battle against sleep almost cute. Mom has already given in, her soft snores mixing with the tense air like a soothing melody. The rest of our clan, warriors to the core, sprawl across the furniture, their exhaustion a heavy blanket in the room.

With a heavy sigh that seems to carry the weight of the world, Father concedes. "Go sleep. Dawn will bring a new council."

As the room empties, a muted parade of shuffling feet and subdued yawns, the electric tension between the alpha and Zane lingers.

Then there's Natalie, who's trying to blend into the shadows. Her tangled curls and wide, hopeful eyes speak volumes of her inner turmoil.

The alpha's gaze lands on Ethan, heavy with authority yet soft around the edges. "Do you question my decisions, Ethan?" His voice is low, almost gentle, but it vibrates with an undercurrent of power that fills the quiet room.

Here I am, right in the middle of what could only be described as a supernatural strategy session, with Ethan standing tall, despite the weight of the world—or at least the clan—on his shoulders. Through our bond, I feel his unwavering determination to protect us all, Ava included, and underneath that, a flicker of something he's keeping close to his chest.

"Alpha, it's not about disagreement. It's about adapting our strategy. The hunters are getting bolder. We can't just keep reacting. We need to anticipate to protect the clan—and Ava," Ethan reasons.

Alpha Hughes, with a quick, thoughtful glance toward Natalie, focuses on us, his expression holding a hint of worry. He looks like a man who's seen a few centuries, which, let's face it, he kind of has. "I know you're worried about her, about all of this, but understand, our ancestors have dealt with hunters for generations. We've survived, thrived even," he responds, his tone echoing the resilience of our kind.

"But at what cost?" Ethan retorts, standing a bit taller. "Yes, we've survived, but now, more than ever, we need to ensure not just survival but the safety and freedom of our clan. Ava's presence changes things. She's not just another member, she's a catalyst. The hunters won't stop, not when they've smelled what they consider blood in the water."

My heart races, echoing Ethan's resolve. The thought of hunters targeting Ava, of us being in their crosshairs, sends a chill down my spine. Why are they fixated on her?

"You think I don't know that?" Alpha Hughes' voice cracks with a hint of vulnerability, revealing the weight he carries. "Every decision I make, every order I give, is with the safety of our clan in mind—including Ava."

Ethan nods, a gesture of respect and understanding. "I know, Alpha, and I respect that, but we need to be more proactive. We can't wait for another attack, another tragedy. We should consider strengthening our patrols, maybe even reaching out to neighboring clans for an alliance. If we are united, the hunters might think twice before attacking."

The suggestion hangs between us, like a potential lifeline in turbulent waters. "An alliance," the alpha muses, the idea swirling around him like a new scent on the wind. "It's a bold move. It could deter the hunters and show them we are united, but it will take time."

"It's a risk, but one worth taking," Ethan insists, his voice firm. "Our best defense could be a stronger offense. By showing unity and strength, we can protect our own and ensure that Ava, and every member of this clan, can live without the shadow of hunters looming over us."

Silence blankets the room as the alpha weighs Ethan's words, the gears of leadership turning behind his thoughtful gaze. He finally nods, making a decision in the face of uncertainty. "I will have Zane begin working on an alliance tomorrow," he concedes. "For the clan."

Ethan's relief is visible as the tension eases from his shoulders. "Thank you, Alpha."

Just when I think we're wrapping up, Alpha Hughes shifts gears, his tone softening from alpha to father. "Have you given any thought to what we discussed?" It's a question loaded with subtext—a mystery I'm apparently not privy to.

Ethan glances at me, his eyes a maze I can't navigate, then he shuts down our bond. "We still have a month," he says cryptically.

Natalie strides out of the shadows, her ambition burning brightly as she lays claim to a future she envisions. "Bullshit," she declares, her gaze fierce. "You know I'd be a better fit for luna."

My jaw drops, my mind racing to catch up. "E-Excuse me?" I splutter, caught between disbelief and outrage. "What the heck did I miss?"

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Natalie's smirk is a challenge, her eyes gleaming with defiance. She turns that chilling gaze on me, and I feel a shudder of foreboding. "If your pretty little mate rejects you, Ty, then I'll be your luna."

The audacity of her claim knots my stomach with a tangle of emotions and revelations that leaves me speechless. The game has changed, and it seems I'm the last to know.

"No." I pop up from my seat, my chair skidding across the floor. "You didn't actually agree to this, did you?"

Zane gives me a look, his eyelids descending in a lazy, deliberate blink—his trademark signal of disapproval—before his gaze shifts to Mom. "Now's not the time," he says, his voice smooth, but there's a hint of an edge. He shoots a look sharp enough to cut glass at our alpha, before effortlessly scooping Mom into his arms as if she weighs no more than a feather. With a pivot that's almost theatrical, he casts a parting glare at Alpha Hughes. "The couch is yours tonight. Enjoy your handiwork."

The alpha exhales a sigh heavy enough to stir the dust motes dancing in the slanting light, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to wring patience from the thin air. "Natalie, your exit, if you please."

"But, Alpha, I'm as good as family," Natalie protests, her tone holding entitlement and bitterness. "And it's no secret that the hunters came for Ava. Just watch—she'll be the end of us all."

"Out." His command is a low growl, the kind that vibrates the windows. "This is not a debate, Natalie. Leave. I wish to speak with my sons."

As Natalie makes her grand departure, her teeth gnashing loud enough to suggest sparks might fly, she casts a venomous glance my way, her eyes brimming with a cold malice that sends a shiver down my spine.

She's up to something,I can feel it. Shaking off the chill, I seek out my pack's eyes after sending the thought out to them. Poor Brody is completely knocked out.

Natalie's exit seems to lift a veil from the room, shifting the atmosphere from charged to a blend of uneasy anticipation and simmering questions. Alpha Hughes, embodying the silent strength of ancient oaks, stands with a gravitas that commands attention, his gaze flitting between Ethan and me. He seems to be sifting through a mental labyrinth, his brows knitting together in concentration, before he parts the silence with his deep, resonant voice.

"Boys," he intones, the word alone slicing through the tension with the weight of unsaid fears. "This issue with Ava—it's like we're navigating a maze without a map. There's more here that we are missing. The pieces just aren't aligning."

Ethan and I exchange a glance, our silent communication crackling with the electric buzz of shared concern and curiosity. "What are you thinking, Father?" Ethan questions.

"I poked around Ava's past?—"

Ethan interrupts, "She's clean."

"That's the thing—she's too clean. She is the definition of a good girl," he counters, his gaze drifting to the window, where the night presses against the glass like a dark, curious creature. He settles into the couch, dropping his guard momentarily. "Her family history… What do we really know?"

Ethan and I lock eyes, the weight of his question anchoring us. "Her mother was murdered, and her father…" The anger that surges from Ethan is a tangible force. "He isn't exactly winning any awards for fatherhood."

"And his story?" Father probes, sinking back into the couch. His fingers tap silently on the armchair as he thinks.

"Entangled with the Puritas church," Ethan replies, each word carefully measured. The air thickens with the unsaid, becoming a heavy cloak of implications.

Secrets have a way of festering. I silently push Ethan toward honesty.

With a nod, Ethan unveils the bombshell. "He's plotting to marry her to Elijah Castellon."

Father's reaction is immediate—a derisive snort. "Wonderful." His voice cuts through the air with sharp sarcasm. "So the plot thickens, and Natalie might have a point." He straightens, the layers of his usual stoicism parting to reveal a trace of concern. "If hunters dared to breach our sanctuary, then it implies…" He trails off, the implication hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

"Implies what?" Ethan's voice is a growl, a warning rumble.

"It implies they were coming for one of their own," Father finishes, the statement landing with the weight of an ominous prophecy.

Ethan and I leap to our feet, our growls mingling and echoing off the ancient family portraits lining the walls, as if even our ancestors are taken aback. "Excuse me, Father," Ethan begins, his voice a low rumble. "You're treading dangerously close to accusing my mate of betrayal."

"Sit your asses back down, both of you," he orders, rising up tall like an unmovable mountain of authority. "I haven't labeled anyone here as a hunter."

"Ah, but the insinuation couldn't be clearer," Ethan retorts, the edge in his voice sharp enough to slice through steel.

"I hinted," Father concedes with a nod, his demeanor calm, "that there is more here than meets the eye."

"Then spell it out for us, Father. She can't be a saint and a sinner," Ethan challenges, standing like a warrior in his own right.

"The world, my son, is painted in shades of gray," he intones.

I can't resist jumping in. "Could you clarify?" My hand drifts to my chest, attempting to smooth out the ache building there.

The alpha continues, "I surmise that her father's dalliance with the Puritas Umbra might be more, uh, intimate than we realized, especially if he is?—"

"A preacher for one of their ministries," I interject, slicing through the mounting tension, only to catch a sharp look from Ethan. With a nonchalant shrug, I dodge his icy look. "Ava was more than open about what she knows about her father."

"Perhaps she herself was kept in the dark," the alpha suggests, his tone wrapping Ava's innocence in a protective cloak, yet a silent alarm rings. If it turns out she was playing us, well, that's a plot twist we're not ready for. "I'm tasking you three with a deep dive into her father's history."

"I thought you wanted us to expose the Puritas Umbra's puppet master?" Ethan's body language screams defiance, and his skepticism is palpable.

"True, and Zane shall lead that charge. Humor me. I have a weird, gut feeling regarding Ava and her father," the alpha says, his voice steady and strong, which only irks me. "I wonder if there is a connection," he muses to himself.

The room grows quiet, kind of like the calm before a really bad storm, and I can almost hear our brains ticking over. The whole thing with the hunters being obsessed with Ava? It smells like they are playing a sneaky game, preferring to lurk in the shadows rather than come at us with guns blazing.

"They've been tiptoeing around. What's their endgame?" I wonder.

In the silence, the realness of the alpha's words seeps into every corner of the room. Here we are, trying to figure out our next move in this weird game of hide-and-seek with enemies we can't even see. The urge to protect Ava and keep the clan safe lights up something fierce inside me.

"Their boldness is a fa?ade. We need to uncover their true intentions," I muse, feeling a protective urge surge within me.

The room's thick with a kind of hush you'd expect before all hell breaks loose, buzzing with our unspoken jitters. The hunters, dipping their toes into our turf with their sneaky vibes, really shines a spotlight on Ava. It's like they've marked her in a secret game of tag we're all just catching onto. It sends a protective shiver down my spine, and I want to wrap Ava in a big, invisible bear hug.

Alpha Hughes, his mind a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies, breaks the silence. "They are skulking around, but oh, they are bold about it. They know our moves, which means we need to be one step ahead, unraveling their intentions and preparing for any eventuality." His words cut through the fog, sharpening my focus. Ethan and I exchange a look that says game on.

We have a mission now—crack the code on Ava's father and outwit some monster hunters. No biggie, right?

"Her date tomorrow…" I let the words hang, not wanting her to go. I want to tie her to the bed and keep her there until everything blows over.

"Let her go. Keep a shadow on her. Stay close, but out of sight," Alpha Hughes instructs with a measured tone, a hint of weariness creeping in, "and be discreet. For now, return to your mate. I, apparently, have a date with the couch tonight."

"Well…" Ethan starts, only to catch one of those looks from the alpha that could freeze lava mid-flow.

"Don't even think about it," he warns.

"Your mate crashed on the couch," Ethan blurts out, inching toward the door, ready to run after riling up our father. "I mean, it's only fair that you sleep there."

"Beat it," Alpha Hughes says with a half-hearted chuckle, settling into the couch like it's a life raft. "And hey, hit the lights on your way out?"

Ethan turns off the lights without a beat, and I quietly close the door behind us. We meet at the hall's end, the clock whispering midnight. We move upstairs in silence, our footsteps the only sound in the vast, sleepy house.

We each have our own rooms at the clan house, but we pile into Brody's. The dim light reveals Ava and Brody, tangled together in the most innocent of embraces on the bed, their breathing a lullaby.

I love lullabies. I bet Ava has an incredible singing voice.

I make a mental note to ask her tomorrow.

Seeing Ava so peaceful, it's hard to picture her in any sinister plot, but Natalie's whispered doubts are like gnats—annoyingly persistent. I strip down to my boxers and slide into bed beside Ava, and she instinctively snuggles closer, her arm finding its way over me. It's a comfort, a silent vow of trust that fills the room.

Ethan climbs into bed on the opposite side, lying as close as he can to Brody.

In just a handful of days, Ava's become this beacon of hope, a piece of home I didn't even know I was missing. Imagining a future with her sparks something fierce inside me—a desire for a forever that suddenly seems within reach. She stepped in front of danger for Brody, for us, without a second thought. That bravery, that unwitting acceptance, lights up the dark.

She's a dream worth defending and a future worth every challenge, because if we're not here to fight for love, then what are we doing?