2 Hangovers & Heirs

Ember

Eyeliner streaks down my face, turning me into a deranged raccoon. Half asleep, I turn on the shower and let steam fill my bathroom. It fogs the mirror, misty gray against the pristine white tile walls. My mother embraced the minimalistic aesthetic while decorating this house, and I hate it.

Twenty minutes of scrubbing later, I feel like myself again. With wet hair clinging to my neck, I yank on joggers and a sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Ember,” Sienna purrs. Others might mistake her tone for charm, but after eighteen years, I know it’s a sign she’s ready for a fight. She perches on the edge of her seat at the breakfast table, already in heels with her signature crimson lip. Her silk wrap dress hangs loose on her frame, the only sign she’s grieved her spouse at all.

I’m surprised she hasn’t taken a new mate already. There are a dozen dominant males in the pack who are more than eager, despite the risk, and it would help secure her position.

It’s hard to stay Alpha when you murder your mate.

Whispers have circulated the ranks and many of the males are reluctant to follow a single female’s leadership. But I suppose that’s the consequence of building a pack made up almost exclusively of ruthless fighters, especially ones that aren’t particularly bright.

My response is a grunt. I wait for her criticism, but the only sound is the cabinet hinge and the dry rustling of cereal hitting the bottom of my bowl, followed by the clink of a spoon.

Either she’s playing at being a good mom this morning, or she’s biding her time. Fantastic .

“So how was the gathering last night?” she asks after a delicate sip of coffee.

“Fine.”

“I’d appreciate a more thorough answer.” Her polite smile stays plastered in place.

With a deep sigh, I plop into my seat and shovel cereal into my mouth. The crunch echoes inside my head, drowning out the bleak thoughts that make up my mental playlist.

“Don’t you have minions to report to you for these types of things? ”

Her dark eyes study me for a moment. I hate that Jasper takes after our dad and I take after her. It’s why I bleach and color my hair various shades of the rainbow every few weeks.

“Yes, I do. But no one else spoke with the Alphas of the Bracken Creek Pack.” Her words are crisp, only a hint of her disdain toward her former pack shining through. If a stranger were listening, they’d never know that one of those Alphas is her oldest son from her first relationship, before she met my dad.

Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms and tuck my leg under me. “Look, we barely spoke. Hazel was gossiping about her packmates and Slate was just drinking and groping her.”

Sienna’s eyebrows shoot up.

I almost regret my harsh assessment. “Not like he was drunk. He just didn’t talk when I was there.”

Her expression turns analytical and I resume eating my cereal to escape her assessment. “Anything else you’d like to share?”

“Nope.” The answer is too quick. I force myself to meet her gaze for a moment, keeping the guilt churning in my gut from seeping into my expression.

No, Mother dear , nothing else happened. Only made out with the enemy. Yes, the same one I stabbed. No big deal. just let him suck on my neck while I ground against him like a shameless hussy. And now I’m ruined because every other man I’ve ever kissed had cold fish lips compared to him. Shit.

“I’m glad you had a good time because you’re going to spend several days with them. ”

My breakfast catches in my throat and I splutter and cough.

“Why?” I choke out.

“I’ve requested your brother come home for a visit and bring his little mate.”

“So?” My coffee does little to soothe me as I wait for her to explain.

“They suggested an exchange in order to ensure their safety, since, as their Beta, Jasper is technically also their Heir until those two have a child of their own.”

My brain blanks for a minute. So much for holding my superior position as Heir over Jasper’s head.

“An exchange,” I repeat dumbly. “Who are you sending?”

“My own Heir, of course.” Her manicured fingers press to her temple as if to ward off a headache.

“Can’t you send Orion? Maybe I want to spend time with Jasper too.” I know I sound like a whiny child, but spending time in enemy territory sounds unbearable, especially after last night.

“You can catch up with your brother on your own time.”

Anger turns my mind sharp. “When would you have allowed that?”

“You had the gathering last night, didn’t you?”

A frustrated growl builds in my throat, but acting like a petulant child won’t change her decision. I have no autonomy here. Schooling my features to calm, I ask, “What is your goal for this visit? If I’m going to be shuttled off to our enemies, at least tell me what you’re trying to accomplish.”

Her lips thin, her features appearing predatory. “Daughter, you are going to visit your half-brother and his mate. You are going to be quiet and respectful. And if I require anything else from you, I’ll tell you so. Until then, keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.”

The icy command hangs between us. Sienna sips her coffee and returns her gaze to her phone. Finally, my emotions calm enough to speak.

“Am I going alone?”

She sets her phone on the table with a snap. “Do you need a babysitter?”

“Of course not.” Masking my hurt with sarcasm, I force out a cold laugh. “Hopefully they won’t murder me in my sleep. Pretty sure you don’t have any other Heirs hidden around here to replace me.”

She rolls her eyes and with a dismissive flick of her wrist, opens her phone again.

Onyx

My joints ache as I drag myself from bed. Each beat of my pulse feels like a blow to my temple, and my skin feels too tight. Feet clumsy, I head straight to the kitchen, the smell of my mother’s cooking promising some relief.

Four people sit around our kitchen table, my parents and two guests. My mother pops up, grabbing a glass and filling it with water .

“How do you look so peppy?” I ask Hazel with a groan. She sits beside Slate with a tense expression like I interrupted an important conversation.

My father, Fisher, sits forward with his forearms flat on the table and his hands neatly folded. His salt and pepper hair sweeps back off his forehead. Feeling self-conscious, I rake my fingers through my hair and it out of my face.

“Well, we didn’t drink like a dehydrated dolphin last night,” Hazel answers with a patronizing quirk of her eyebrow.

The glass of water is forced into my hands. My mother’s forehead wrinkles in concern as she discreetly hands me two pain pills. Do I really look that bad? “Thanks, Mom,” I mutter before downing the medication and water.

“Come join us,” she says, settling into a chair. Her cinnamon hair gleams bronze in the morning light. With a sigh, I slump into the seat between her and Slate.

“We were just discussing a proposal from the Granite Ridge pack,” Hazel explains. My hand freezes halfway to the basket of warm pastries in the center of the table. “Not that kind, obviously. Sienna would like Jasper and Marigold to visit them for a few days, and in return, she will send Ember to stay with us.”

“What?” I blurt, my mouth hanging open.

Her brows knit together. “Jasper and Marigold will go there, and Ember will stay with us. Like an exchange.”

“Is that necessary?” I ask .

“Not really,” Slate says. He lets out an audible exhale, his arms crossing. Hazel turns, her eyes narrowing at his reaction.

“You should get to know her. She’s your sister.” It sounds like an argument they’ve had before.

“Half-sister,” Slate grumbles.

I focus on the pastry selection and grab a brioche bun filled with blackberries my brother grew. It’s a cloud melting into sweet, sticky preserves. Being the son of the pack’s baker has its perks.

“So?” Hazel says, her voice rising in pitch. Irritation trickles through the pack bond.

“She attempted to murder you when she first met you,” Slate says dryly. His mouth pulls into a grimace.

“That’s not exactly what happened,” Hazel argues.

My body leans back from her, one of my eyebrows rising. “Let’s not forget she stabbed me.” My free hand motions to the exposed scar across the bottom of my ribs.

My mother clicks her tongue, crossing the room to grab a sweatshirt. I smile at her fussing and slip it on obediently.

“It makes sense, politically. She’s their Heir, and Jasper is yours for now,” my father says. Hazel crosses her arms with a pointed look at her mate.

Slate settles back in his seat, acquiescing to his mate’s demands.

“Well, we can’t have her stay with Hawthorne. Not with how young his kids are,” Hazel says. “And Slate isn’t comfortable keeping her with us. ”

“We aren’t home enough to supervise her properly.” His hand rests protectively on the back of her chair.

“So we’re hoping you’ll host her.” Hazel says, turning to my father. “You’re next in line, as our Delta. You have the space and there will be five of you to keep an eye on her.”

My father has taken all of this in without visible reaction, but I can almost hear his brain calculating the risk. As the pack’s trainer, he knows our people and our weaknesses better than anyone.

“Four of us,” he amends. “We’ll send Briar to stay with friends, and then Ember can stay in her room.”

“Good idea,” Hazel says, turning her sweetest smile on my mother. “Clove, I know this is a big imposition.”

“No, it would be an honor.”

“I really appreciate that,” Hazel says, her eyes crinkling as she smiles.

Brioche eaten, I consider grabbing another pastry. There’s a chocolate-studded scone calling my name and the sugar softens my surprise.

“Onyx,” Slate says. His tone commands my attention and I fight the instinct to cringe. It’s never good when he uses that voice on me.

“We’d like you to take the lead on guarding Ember during her stay with us. Vale can handle your tech duties for a few days, and we’ll change up the patrol rotation to free you up.”

Is he shitting me ?

Thoughts of the scone dissolve as I rub my palm over my jaw. “Am I guarding her from our packmates? Or guarding them from her?”

“Both,” Slate says. It’s the diplomatic answer. We both know the latter is more likely to be necessary. “Are you up for it?”

“I’ll think about it. We don’t exactly get along.”

“I’m sure you can handle her.” Hazel squeezes my wrist and I already know I’ll agree. When she turns those big amber eyes on me, I’m a goner. No wonder Slate never says no to her.

“Thanks,” Slate says before smoothly transitioning the conversation to training topics. My father and my Alphas trade updates on recent developments and I tune out their voices.

My mind replays the feel of emerald hair brushing my cheek, her soft curves under my hands. It was supposed to be a thrill, just a bad decision in the dark. But now she’s coming here and staying in my home. Heat prickles over my skin at the thought.

Something is truly wrong with me if I’m excited by an enemy sleeping in the room across from mine. One with a soft mouth and soulful eyes who would very much like to hurt me. I’m fucked.