Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

K ira

Standing on the top of the building with the night wind whipping against my face, I'm watching a helicopter descend toward us and pretending that I'm not absolutely terrified of flying. I don't like the idea of planes, let alone a helicopter that is dancing through the air like a dragonfly right now.

He fucked me senseless, and now he's taking me home to meet the family. I should be happy, but I am terrified. One of the small comforts is the fact that I'm wearing a big jersey wrapped around me tightly. It's one of Cain's, and it smells like him, and I don't ever want to take it off. As the helicopter lands, Cain ushers me toward it—or tries to. As his guiding arm wraps around me, I find myself resisting.

"Get in," he says, frowning slightly, somewhat confused by my refusal.

"Can I maybe not?"

He gives me a brief look. "Are you afraid of flying?"

"Very."

He nods, picks me up, and puts me inside the helicopter. Just as I start to freak out, he puts me on his lap and snuggles me close. I'm certain this isn't how you're supposed to sit on an aircraft, but his arms and his body feel more secure than any seat or seatbelt ever could. He puts a pair of headphones over my ears, which help a great deal to cut down on the infernal noise the rotor blades are making.

Cain puts a pair on too, at which point I realize we can talk to one another through them.

"I will never let anything happen to you," he says. "You'll never be in real danger when you are with me."

Logically, I know there is two-tenths of fuck-all he can do if we start falling out of the sky, but he sounds so confident and so genuine that the part of my brain which feels fear believes him and simply stops being afraid.

We lift into the sky, and I am able to actually enjoy the way the city looks as it retreats below us, turning from a big bunch of buildings into a series of vessels of moving light. It is an amazing sight, and I am able to enjoy it with the man who has become so fundamental to my existence, I can barely remember a time before him, even though I really only met him yesterday or thereabouts.

The flight does not last long, perhaps twenty minutes or so, but the terrain has changed completely by the time we land. There are no buildings, not even a little township lit up with a few streetlights or stray houses. There is just forest, and then in the midst of it, a building that has to be the size of a small fortress. I can see the great circular shape in the middle, with two large wings coming off either side. There are extensive grounds lit up with torches or lights or something that looks similar. I can see a maze-like area and big pathways and plantings and… I don't know. This could be a fortress, or a university, or a magical school, or a summer retreat for a French king soon to be beheaded.

"This is Denholm," Cain explains as we start our descent. "This is the ancestral seat of my pack."

I forgot about his pack for a moment or two or three, or completely. I know he mentioned something about them in some way, but I only have eyes and thoughts for him.

"Do they all live here?"

"There's a small crew who inhabit the place, yes. Mostly our elders," he explains. "The younger ones tend to pursue lives out of the area. This is remote country, little in the way of employment opportunities, or entertainment besides hunting, fishing, a slower pace of life. Our pack tends to be ambitious as a rule."

We land on the roof of the mansion, and I start to become tense as I realize that there are already quite a number of people waiting to greet us.

The excitement as the rotors stop and the door of the helicopter slides open is palpable. It is almost like being greeted by a horde of over-excited puppies ever so pleased to see us. Well, pleased to see Cain, anyway. I smile politely and mumble a few hellos, but for the most part, I find myself practically hiding behind Cain. He answers those he wishes to answer and masterfully turns away those he does not wish to interact with.

I am introduced to a few people, but the night is dark, and I really don't know that I will remember them in the morning. I am tired again, worn out by the shifting, I think, and the strangeness of the situation. I can handle myself in work contexts because I know how to be professional. But this is different. I am meeting Cain's family. That makes it personal, and I don't know how to be personable.

"We are tired," Cain says, sweeping me up into his arms. "More tomorrow."

"Your room has been prepared," someone says in a tone of perfectly loving obsequiousness. I can't tell if they are male or female, only that they are elderly and clearly care for Cain very much. Not a parent, though, probably. More like an old faithful servant.

I am carried through the halls much like a baby. People keep looking at me, hoping for an introduction, but he does not give them one, or me one. He moves through the throng like an ice breaker ship moving through an icefloe. The energy of excitement does not abate until we reach a large, heavy door with iron fittings. It looks like the entrance to a dungeon, though it is located rather high up in the castle-fortress-place.

The room that belongs to him is more like a medieval king's suite than any normally furnished boudoir. He sets me down on my feet among velvet and gilt edging and lets me take a few cautious, exploratory steps.

"Am I going to meet your parents at this event?"

"No," he says. "Unfortunately, my parents both passed when I was young."

"I am sorry," I say, filling with horror as I realize how callous that sounds. I should have known that. I think I did know that. I read his Wikipedia page. I should never have said something so thoughtless…

"Don't beat yourself up about it," he says. "You didn't do it."

"I know, but I'm sorry to bring up such a painful memory for you," I stammer. "I've been such an idiot, between being afraid of the plane, and afraid of myself, and afraid of you, and now I'm saying too much, and none of it is good…"

"You're tired," he says. "And you're going to bed. I have to handle pack business, so I will not be able to nap with you yet, and I am going to lock this door, because I do not want anyone coming in to see you without me, and I certainly do not want you getting out."

"Is it not safe here?"

"It is safe enough, but this is a place of powerful forces for our kind. There is history in the terrain, and in the pack themselves that you have no knowledge of. I want you by my side when we are in public until you properly understand the lay of the land. Understood?"

I nod quickly. "Understood."

Left to my own devices, I go to bed.

It's the easiest way to avoid having to think about what is happening to me, or where I am, or who I am or anything of that nature. I hope that by the time I wake up, he will be there with me and I won't feel so odd or out of place.

My plan fails.

When I wake up, I'm not entirely sure what time of day or night it is. There's a lot of light coming in the window, but it's not a warm glow. It is more of a silvery shine. It must be late at night. I sit up and look around. Cain is not in the room.

A pang of loneliness and anxiety gets me out of bed. I don't like being alone in an environment this strange. Day before last, I was hoping to make enough money to not have to sleep in my car. Now, I'm alone in the grandest bedroom I've ever imagined. I should be thrilled, but it's all so strange. Everything has happened so swiftly that I barely know what to think about it. It would have been one thing to date my boss, but I fucked him on the first day and then turned into a wolf, and… wait. Am I just having some kind of meltdown? Like a mental break? Did the stress of being fired snap something inside me that has been pulled taut for years?

I go to the window and look out. The sight of the rest of the fortress and the grounds and the walls beyond them makes me feel like a princess in a fairytale.

"This is nice," I say to myself. "This is a good thing. It's weird, but it is okay. I'm going to be okay. I've always been okay. I was alright before this, and I will be alright after this."

This is the mantra that has kept me sane for years, through a bunch of things nobody should ever really have to live through.

I just need fresh air and to breathe. I'm already doing one of those things, and the window provides the other.

I stand in the shaft of the moon glow and feel my skin prickling ever so slightly. There's a part of me that freaks out at the sensation. It's far stronger than anything I've felt before just from standing in a window, and the paranoid part of my mind wonders if I am somehow allergic.

Then I realize that there is fur growing out of my forearms.

I'm shifting.

I didn't start it, and I don't know how to stop it.

I try to call for Cain, or anybody, but my mouth has already begun to elongate, becoming a muzzle. My body is growing more powerful and larger, and my mind is… well, my mind is feeling much, much better, because wolves apparently don't have the same capacity to ruminate that I do.

Before I know it, I'm jumping out the window. There is a ledge below, which makes this fun and not suicidal. My senses are heightened, as is my hunger. I want something sweet, and I want it now.

I move down the outside of the building, jumping from ledge to ledge until I hit a roof. If I were to do this as a person, I'd be breaking all my weak, stupid human joints, but as a wolf, all the inner parts of me flex with strength and power, easily absorbing the impact. I can smell food everywhere. This place is absolutely packed with all manner of freshly cooked dishes, mostly of meat.

I can also smell other wolves. The scent of the pack is strong, in both human and beast form. I have already decided that I am going to avoid them. Their smells are unfamiliar and frightening to me. They are predators, after all. And it's not that I am prey, but I am not part of their pack. The same senses that tell me to get food are telling me that they are dangerous to me.

I can't just wander around this place smelling like an intruder. They'll be onto me instantly. Fortunately, nature provides. There is a pond, one rich with weeds and fish and ducks and other things that smell a lot more than I do. I dive into it without hesitation, splashing around at the edges of the pond and collecting all the rich smelling stuff that has been festering on the edges.

I emerge, shake myself off, and am deeply satisfied with my new scent. Nobody is going to know that I'm here. They're going to think they're near a pond, which probably won't arouse nearly as much suspicion.

I still try my best to avoid directly meeting anybody. Even though my scent is covered, their eyes will still work if they see me. I'll be busted. I have a faint memory of Cain telling me not to leave the room, but that was when I was in my human form, and he was technically talking about the door. The thoughts pass through my mind swiftly and without too much consequence. In my wolf form, I just do stuff. I follow instinct and impulse, and both of those things feel great.

I sneak around through arches and doorways, following my nose. Every now and then I catch a brief whiff of something sweet, and also the scent of my mate. He's here. I want to get to him, and I want to get to an ice cream cake. Is there an ice cream cake? There might be.

I pad through the shadows quietly, catching snippets of conversation here and there. Most of them don't sound that interesting. General chit-chat, gossip about people I don't know, small talk about the weather and hunting conditions. Maybe I'd find it interesting if I was a human, but as a wolf, I just don't care. At least, I don't care until I hear a voice.

"This is a complete waste of time. I don't care what they say. Cain doesn't have a mate, and if he does, it's not some random domestic dilute who appeared out of nowhere a couple of days ago."

There's a round of laughter.

"She's a domesticated dilute ?" An amused voice full of barely veiled outrage responds with a derisive laugh. "He's brought us a fucking pet dog?"

More laughter.

My hackles are rising, not because they're mocking me, but because their words stink of jealousy and hostility. Those tones don't verge on disgust. They dive right into it and emerge covered in it.

I creep closer, wanting to see who is saying these horrible things. I can't go into the room, but I can hide underneath a side table in the hall and crouch beneath it. It has some kind of a fabric throw on it that keeps me hidden from casual view. It's perfect.

Well, right up until Cain's concerned tones ring out through the halls, carrying as if they're coming through some kind of public address system.

"My mate is missing. Please keep your eye out for a young woman answering to Kira."

"Someone call the dog catcher," the unseen voice snarks under their breath. There's a mixture of males and females in the room, and none of them are being particularly nice.

I, of course, am not missing.

But I am hiding, and I don't want to come out of hiding. One, they'd know I was here, and two, if I come out of this wolf form somehow, then I'll be standing naked in front of a bunch of strangers.

Maybe I can sneak back up to the room without being caught. I know Cain is going to be very unhappy about this. He didn't like it when I got out of bed back at his apartment. I have to wonder what kind of thrashing this is going to earn me.

Still, there's a chance I can talk my way out of this somehow. Especially if I can get back to his room. I might be able to convince him I curled up behind a tapestry or something.

"She's close."

Oh my god. He's already here. He must have come down the stairs and down this hall and… does he have my scent? I can hear Cain's voice far too near to be of any comfort to me. I don't know who he is talking to, and I don't care. All I care about is what he wants, and what he's going to do to me.

Hopefully he will walk right past my hiding spot, and…

I hear him sniff. My entire body stiffens. I know in this moment that I have fucked up. Horribly. Irreparably.

"What is that smell?"

Oh no.

His feet move closer, expensive shiny shoes approaching my position. I feel a wave of fear. Oh god. Oh no. He's going to find me.

What am I going to do?

The same instincts that got me into trouble in the first place now get me into so much more of it.

Cain

Suddenly, a side table erupts into a streak of pale caramel chaos as none other than my absolutely filthy mate decides to flee. She is covered in bits of green and brown, which must be from a poorly maintained pond judging by the way they absolutely reek.

She runs a great deal faster in her wolf form than I can in my human one, but she is not hard to track due to the fact that her paws leave big muddy stains in her wake. In her panic, she rushes through scores of people, knocking a few of them over and leaving them covered in pond scum.

Suffice it to say, this is not the introduction I had planned. The debuting of a new alpha's mate is usually a big affair. The beautiful woman is honored in a ceremony including a banquet. Kira should have come down these stairs while wearing a beautiful gown dripping in ancestral jewels.

Instead, she has spread a trail of filth and destruction which requires me to stop and pick up several of my pack members, one of whom I suspect has sprained an ankle. A shift will mend that, but still. This is not acceptable. Not in the slightest.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, my alpha," Fenella says. Fenella is in her sixties, and the nicest person I know. She is wearing one of her best dresses, and that dress has clearly been ruined by her brief, rough encounter with my feral little mate. "I am sorry for getting in your mate's way," she apologizes timorously.

"Don't apologize for that. I owe you an apology for my mate's behavior."

"Of course you don't. I'm sure it was just an accident," she says, submissive and generous to a fault.

"Do you need any help?"

I could not be more pleased to see Bardo. He has appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to come to my aid. Thank God.

"Could you please help Fenella? I need to find my mate."

He takes over, which seems to please her. There is nothing like a handsome, virile male to settle the nerves of a female, and vice versa.

I continue up the stairs, taking them two at a time. There are so very many of them, giving me enough time to consider the situation I am in.

This is the problem with fate assigning our mates based on instinct and karmic influences beyond our understanding. We don't get to choose someone who shares our temperament or traits we value. Human compatibility doesn't come into it, and neither does choice. Kira and I might never have come together sexually under any other circumstances, but we are bonded now.

The traditional wisdom of our pack says that an alpha must take responsibility for his mate by shaping her behavior and ensuring she is pleasing. That's an old-fashioned take, but I understand it even more now than I used to. I know it is up to me to bend where I need to bend in order to be a compatible partner, and to help her to become compatible with me. In the short term, that means chasing her up this never-ending flight of stairs and spanking her ass red once I catch her.

If I'd had a week or two with her first, we would have had the chance to get more in sync. We could have discovered and worked through some of our differences. We could at least have reached a point where she didn't cause absolute bedlam. Fucking Abel calling the conclave immediately has given me no chance whatsoever to do any of that necessary training.

I find Kira at the door of our bedroom, which is still locked tight. She is pressed up against the wall, looking at me with big, pleading eyes and whining in a manner that suggests she doesn't want to be in trouble.

It's too late for that.

I unlock the door and point to the interior of the room that should have been more than secure. I thought, for a brief moment, that I might have forgotten to lock it properly, but it turns out she decided to jump out the fucking window. This realization makes me even more displeased than I was.

"Get in the shower," I order, striding across to the ensuite.

She hesitates to follow me. On top of the rest of her insubordination, this is too much.

I go back to her and grip her by the scruff of the neck. Yes, she is a wolf, but it does not matter what form I am in, I am her alpha. I am her master. I own her. And we will never have another repeat of this evening's behavior. I intend to see to that.

"Bad girl!"

I give her a little shake by the scruff. It barely moves her, but I know she senses how displeased I am, and that is what matters.

"I told you to stay in the room, and the next thing I know, you are turning my ancestral home into an organic water feature. Don't you laugh at that. That was not a joke. You have behaved incredibly badly."

She slinks and cringes under my lecturing.

"Bathroom. Now."

This time, she does as she is told.

She can stay in her wolf form for the moment. Cleaning her off is going to be easier before she shifts than after. The last thing I want is for all the filth she's managed to embed in her fur to end up on her naked body.

She pads across the floor, leaving a trail of mess in her wake, and proceeds to fill the shower with mud, algae, God-knows-what, and fur. I do not say anything as I wash her off with the shower head, rubbing shifter safe shampoo into her thick undercoat which has absorbed so much of the pond filth. It takes a good half an hour to get her clean enough that when she takes her human form again, she won't immediately be covered in potentially infectious garbage.

"Alright, my girl," I growl when I am satisfied she is sufficiently clean. "Shift out of that wolf form. I want to hear what you have to say for yourself."

Kira

I come back to myself naked and almost immediately shivering in the shower. Every time I take my wolf form, it feels like I've run a marathon, but this time, I doubt Cain cares. I've really caused a scene and a problem, and I know he is not happy with me.

His shirt is soaked from the shower, his hair slicked back from where he has run his hand through it in frustration several times. He looks as handsome as I have ever seen him look. I just wish it wasn't because I just made him so mad.

"I'm sorry," I whimper. "Things got out of hand. I went into the moonlight, and then there was fur on my arm, and then before I knew it…"

"You had shifted."

"Yes."

"That explains you being in your wolf form. What it doesn't explain is you being underneath a table in the hall, covered from head to toe in filth."

I think for a second. I could just tell him I don't know. That it was like last time, that I panicked and ran on instinct. But that would be a lie, and the idea of telling him a lie suffuses me in guilt.

"I was hungry."

He stares at me blankly for a moment. Then his cheek twitches. "You were hungry. So you jumped out of a window that is high enough to kill you if you were to fall, rolled around in a pond, and hid in a hallway?"

"I didn't want to be any trouble."

"Didn't want to be trouble…" he repeats my words incredulously. "I'm afraid you've failed in that regard. That was, without a doubt, the most disastrous introduction to the pack I could have imagined."

"Must lack imagination," I mutter under my breath.

"Excuse me?"

"It wasn't that bad. I didn't kill anybody. I just followed my instincts. Isn't that what I'm meant to do?"

"You've earned yourself a good, long spanking," he says sternly.

I've submitted to a lot with Cain Lupin. I've allowed him to entirely redefine my life in the last forty-eight hours, and I know I am dependent on him in some ways as his mate. He and his kind are like me, and I am something I never knew I was.

But I don't want a serious spanking from him. The idea is absolutely terrifying, and I think if he insists, I'm going to have to resist.

"Don't you give me that look," he says. "You know you've misbehaved. You could have killed yourself. I could have come and found you dead on the ground, neck broken, our life together over before it had a chance to begin. You will learn to obey me, Kira. And I will do what is necessary to ensure that learning happens."

He doesn't know me that well. He doesn't know what will happen if he ever dares to do anything like that. I let him smack my ass that one time, but if he thinks he can beat me for disobedience, he'll learn a lot about me all at once.

He cocks his head, reading the thoughts in my expression again.

Before he can tell me that he's going to punish me, I ask him a question.

"What is a domesticated dilute?"

Cain's face transforms quite fiercely for a moment. "Where did you hear that term?" He asks the question with a dangerous level of calmness that is quite scary.

"Uhm. I'm not sure. I just did, I think."

"Do not lie to me, Kira. Tell me where you heard that."

"It was just something people were saying. I heard it when I was in the hall. It's not that serious, is it? What does it mean?"

He hesitates for a very long time before answering the question. I see a half a dozen answers flash across his eyes and be dismissed as unsuitable. I know it's a really bad answer when he comes over to me and cups my face in his hands with tender care.

"It is a very toxic phrase that refers to purity of blood and coat color. Most of our pack prefers to eat freshly killed meat and has the natural coloring of a wild wolf. You have a paler pelt, and your tastes run more to the sweet. There is nothing wrong with that. I adore it about you."

No sooner do I discover I am a wolf than I find out that I am the wrong kind of wolf. That sounds precisely like my kind of luck. It takes me several minutes to process the news, during which time Cain doesn't whip my ass, but instead leads me out of the shower, wraps me in a big, soft, fluffy bathrobe, and somehow manages to get me chocolate cake.

I sit on the edge of the bed and eat the slice, taking in both the sweet, sweet calories, and the ramifications of what he just told me.

"What are you thinking?" He asks the question after a really long time, probably because I haven't said anything.

"So they're… bad people. The pack has bad people in it. People who didn't get the memo about judging others based on their genes? It just feels very…"

"I know," he says. "Don't worry. I will ensure that phrase is never used again. I will erase it from the lexicon. I will wipe it off the face of the planet."

His fury is evident, yet controlled.

"Were you disappointed when you realized that was what I am? You must have expected a big, ferocious, beautiful mate to match you," I say. "Instead you got… this."

"There is nothing wrong with you. You are absolutely perfect," he says.

I note that he didn't actually answer the question as to whether or not he was disappointed. I try not to be hurt by the omission, but I don't ask again. I don't want to force the question and hear an answer that will feel like a stab to the gut.

"I don't want anybody to get into trouble," I say. "I don't want to give them any more reasons to hate me, now that they all dislike me because of the… thing."

"They will never have any right to hate you, no matter how many reasons you might give them. You are the most important thing in the world to me, and this is my pack. You are the center of my world, and by default, the new center of theirs. You have authority and power. They will prostrate themselves at your feet. They will treat you with the utmost respect, or they will suffer."

The way he growls the word suffer makes me think he might be capable of very terrible things. Cain and I are strangers who have been deeply intimate, but still strangers. This situation we find ourselves in is like an arranged marriage. We're stuck with each other while wondering who the other person even is.

This time, I ask the question, even though it scares me. "How?"

"How what?"

"How will they suffer? What will you do to them?"

"It depends who it is, male or female, rank or age."

I look at him with reservation. "But what does that mean? Is anybody going to be hurt?"

"I will do what it takes to defend you, and your reputation."

He's not answering me. He's also not spanking me, though. I feel sleepy right now. A yawn overcomes me, in spite of my efforts to stifle it.

"You need to rest," he says immediately.

I am happy he is predictable that way. As annoyed as he was with me, he was even more annoyed at his pack for calling me names. I hope he's forgotten about my misbehavior.

Cain

I have not forgotten about her misbehavior, but I want her in bed. Asleep. I am starting to feel as though she is only under control when she is unconscious. It is not as though she is trying to be bad. She is simply prone to engaging in unfortunate events.

"Get into bed," I tell her. "And stay there. No going to the window, no getting into the moonlight. Sleep and sleep alone. Understand?"

"Will you sleep with me?"

Her request is so sweet. She has a way about her that makes me want to forgive her every sin. I can't let her get away with what she did tonight, though. It was one thing to shift, but the series of decisions she made after that were calculated. Even asking me about that awful phrase was probably designed to distract me. My pretty mate is already learning how to get what she wants from me. I can feel myself starting to become wrapped right around her littlest finger.

A light tap at the door calls me over to it, but not before I point my finger at her and issue a very firm command.

"Stay."

She salutes in response, a slightly sassy retort that she should be far too sorry to indulge in right now. God. She's already spoiled.

I open the door to reveal the kindly, slightly concerned face of one of the pack's elders.

"May I have a word, my alpha?"

Linus has served the pack for longer than I have been alive. He presided over the ceremony in which my parents were married. He is gray now, his long hair streaked with whiter shades in between darker lines that hint at the long raven locks he used to have. His face is lined, and his eyes are deep set, seeming to grow deeper every year.

This might be the man I most respect in the world.

"Of course. My mate needs to rest. Let's go to the alpha's lounge."

I lock the door, though it didn't do me or Kira much good last time, and hope that she will obey me. I am trusting her in a way I probably should not. She has a talent for trouble and only just demonstrated her complete lack of interest in doing as she is told. But I also have pack affairs to attend to, and I cannot babysit her every moment of the day. My mate will have to be able to moderate her own behavior.

"Stay in bed," I tell her before I leave. "If you so much as move from that place before I get back, your introduction to the pack will be a public caning."

Her gasp of horror in response makes me hope the threat will be effective.

Linus and I go to the alpha's lounge, a quiet, refined space where every alpha in the pack has conducted private business since Denholm was founded. There are armchairs, and there's always a roaring fire. Bookshelves hold the leather-bound records of our pack. There's more information here than I'll ever be able to absorb. That's why members like Linus are so important. You could take all the information in this room, double it, and he'd still have more in his head.

"What can I do for you, Linus? Would you like something to drink?"

"Not at the moment, my alpha," he says, his tone respectful, bordering on obsequious. "I have matters of some importance to discuss with you. I am pleased you have found your mate. Unfortunately, she is not listed in any of my files. As you know, I maintain records for generations. I do not have any Kira Smith. Smith is not a wolf name. If I could speak to her about her parentage…"

"Now?"

"As soon as possible," he says, with a note of impatience he can barely restrain.

"She is asleep for the moment," I say. "You are probably aware of the incident earlier. She has little control over her ability to shift at the moment."

"Yes," he says. "I am aware of the incident. And of the chatter around it. Some of the pack are quite interested in her form."

He is here to ask me where the hell she came from because domestic dilute wolves aren't typically accepted in our pack, mostly because our pack only breeds with pure bloods. It's something we don't talk about outright. It's more of an unspoken rule. I'd hope the pack had the sense to shut up about it, but my having brought a so-called domestic dilute into the very midst of the hierarchy is clearly going to be an issue.

"I thought perhaps you might have already made some inquiries as to her breeding."

"I'm afraid not," I say. "It hasn't been uppermost in my mind, if I'm to be honest. I have been enjoying bonding with my mate, as fate and instinct decided for me, rather than questioning her provenance."

"Of course." He coughs gently. "It is only that lineage is important. Bloodlines are important. All those who mate with alphas must have their provenance determined. The last thing we want, even with a strong mate bond, is for there to be inbreeding of any kind."

"We only just met," I repeat myself. "We haven't had time to have that discussion as yet."

"Of course," he says, agreeable once more. "The early days of any courtship are intense and not often filled with questions. That is why we endeavor to have all wolves registered. I would have said we, in fact, did have all wolves registered. This young lady's existence, and indeed, appearance, is most fascinating."

"Not everybody wants to sign up to be on a database. We see that across all species, humans and shifters alike. It's easy enough for a lone male to impregnate a human woman and produce a dilute."

"It's possible, and potentially unfortunate if there is a reason her birth was not registered."

"What do you mean?"

"If she does have the dilute gene and domestic tendencies, which I do not say with any disrespect, my alpha, only as a means to describe her accurately, then it is fair to say she was not born of a mother of our bloodline."

"We don't know that."

"Females born to female shifters know what and who they are."

"Not always."

"At any rate, I would greatly appreciate it if you could perhaps discover this information at your earliest convenience." He is working so hard to be polite. I can practically see a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he works to avoid offending me. "Ideally, we would invite her parents to the ceremonies. Being able to meet them before the ceremonies begin would be ideal for you. That is a custom in both human and shifter traditions for a reason."

"I'll talk to her about her parents when she wakes up," I promise him. "And I will let you know what I know, as soon as I know it."

"Thank you very much, my alpha. I appreciate the help. I know these may seem like the pedantic requirements of an old-fashioned stick in the mud, but they really do have their uses."

He is making it clear to me that I don't really know the woman I have mate bonded with. But that is not unusual for our kind. Or at least, it wasn't, once upon a time. Nowadays, our pack is the largest in the country and there are very few outliers. Most mate within the pack. Of course, that can't go on forever, lest the inbreeding Linus lives in horror of should occur. That is why we have this nonsense with the pack and the concord and the social events, and all the rest of it.

I have always taken my role as alpha seriously, and with great dedication. I've shouldered the many responsibilities of leadership without complaint. But in the face of this crass questioning of my mate, I suddenly find myself not wanting any of this.

If they are going to keep me from Kira, I don't want the ancestral seat. I don't want the hassle of answering to hundreds of pack members who think they have some ownership of me. I want my mate, and a den, and nothing else.

I am usually very pleased to be present at such gatherings, but this is being rushed.

The pack is concerned, and we can all feel it. The scent of worry is in the air.

This was never going to be entirely simple. Even if Kira had been a known quantity, there would still be disappointment and some drama. There are plenty of families inside the pack who wanted their daughters to be my mate. There are even those who are not above removing one potential mate in order to leave an alpha free to bond again.

This is a very dangerous time in Kira's life. I do not like having her out of my sight, even for short periods of time. That is the largest part at my irritation at her for leaving the room when I told her to stay. If she had been discovered by the wrong wolves, she could have been killed and left to rot in some dank corner of Denholm.

It does not feel good to mistrust my pack. I haven't felt this before. My leadership has been easy and uncontested. But the stakes of mating are high.

"I will await the information, my alpha," he says.

"Very good. I am going to ensure that no other damage was done."

It is growing somewhat late, but as many wolves are night owls, I know there will be plenty of discussion going on. I need to do some damage control. So I go for a walk through Denholm, not going anywhere in particular, simply seeing who I might encounter. It's a patrol of sorts, I suppose.

Denholm has a great many spaces for socialization. There are lounges, studies, nooks, and eating places galore. The pack is able to get together in groups, small and large. Then there are offices and areas associated with particular members who have high ranking positions. And there are wings given to some specific bloodlines. Denholm is not just a building. It is a living mass of rank, hierarchy, and breeding.

I encounter the first bit of trouble in a part of the building reserved for those of what is known as foundation bloodlines. It's not a place I spend a lot of time. These wolves tend to be stuffy and overly impressed with themselves.

"Long time no see, Cain."

Isabella Inferi smiles at me with a wide crimson smile. She is a smart, powerful, dangerous she-wolf. She is also regarded as being extraordinarily beautiful, with crimson lips and bright blue eyes matched with raven dark hair. Her features are soft with an edge of malevolence that intensifies when she smiles. Many expected her to be my mate, but the bond never manifested. She is unmated for the moment. I am sure that is frustrating to her. A while ago, she started to insist she was destined for Abel, but my brother does not share her certainty. There are rumors that she might not be a mate at all. She might be an alpha in her own right. That's a whispering that is kept very quiet. There can be only one alpha wolf in Denholm.

"Hello, Isabella. How are you?"

"You don't have to be that polite," she laughs at me. "Look how stiff and formal you've become now you have a sweet little thing to protect. Are we about to see a new side of our alpha?"

"Leave him alone, Iz."

Abel's voice cuts into our conversation, and I am glad for it. I am not in the mood to be toyed with, even playfully, by any pack member. I'm somewhat surprised to see him here in her company. I thought he would have been avoiding her, given her interest. He gives her a dark glower as he approaches us from another direction. I assume this interaction is unwilling on his part.

She turns and gives him a brighter, broader grin. "Jealous, Abel? Your brother has a pretty new mate, and you're still refusing to acknowledge our mate bond."

"You and I are not meant for each other," Abel growls. "Now leave us, before I lose patience with you and enact some pack discipline."

"Wish you would," she grins without any remorse.

He growls at her, an intense sound accompanied by the flash of canine.

Isabella might seem a little sassy and harmless, but we know better. A female with her power needs to be kept in her place ruthlessly. Her brothers used to do it, before they disappeared. There are rumors about that unfortunate event as well.

In their absence, Abel and I act as older brothers, keeping her in check.

"Would you whip me? Beat me? Pull my hair? Would you make me beg for mercy?" She asks the questions with a laughing lilt, running the tip of her tongue over the underside of her upper teeth with obvious anticipation.

"I will put you in a cell and you will not have a chance to speak to, much less torment, anybody else," he says. "Now get. I need to speak with my brother."

She gives him a fake pout. "I wouldn't mind a cell, as long as we were both in it," she says before flouncing off. Even she knows better than to taunt Abel twice and remain in arm's reach.

"She's a piece of work," Abel growls under his breath.

She is, but I also suspect there may, in fact, be some kind of bond between Abel and Izzy. I don't know if it's a mate bond, but there's something that sparks between them whenever they are in the same room. I wonder if they have mated before, without the bond. That is more than possible. Abel is popular with the ladies, and in no hurry to be tied down. I am sure he lives in horror of actually meeting his mate.

"Maybe your mate is a dilute too, Abel," Izzy calls back. "Maybe the pack is finally going to get some fresh blood. It was boring everybody being purebred anyway."

We both narrow our eyes in her wake, but neither one of us gives her the satisfaction of the attention she is clearly trying to get.

"She is a pain in the ass," Abel growls.

"She's the least of our worries. Linus wants to know where Kira comes from. Everybody wants to know. It feels like the pack thinks they own my balls."

Abel laughs. "They're jealous of her. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. Dilutes are part of the wolf world, and her domestic streak is cute. They'll learn to love her, just like you do."

"Or they'll revolt, and one of the other males will try to take my place as alpha, citing her bloodline as being unfit."

Abel laughs that suggestion off. "It would take a true monster to unseat you, Cain."

"That's the problem. We're all monsters."