Chapter 2 - Jet

Current day

An ache pounded through the back of my skull. It crawled up through my scalp and pooled behind my eyes. I'd been staring at the supply reports for hours now, and I'd made zero progress on the quantity revisions. I was just…fucking tired of all of this.

"What are we going to do?"

Staring down at the rows and rows of numbers in the ledger, I couldn't help but notice that the supply-demand was far less than it should be. Yeah, I'd kill for a supply chain issue in the other direction right now. The pack could always hunt more and take to the woods for a variety of game and vegetation, but there was no need. Our numbers were dwindling, and another round of miscarriages and failed breedings had filled our winter.

Sickness, death, low numbers. What are we becoming? What's happening to the wolves?

But it was pointless. These were the same questions and concerns I'd had for years now, and I still couldn't figure out a way to help my pack, help all of us.

Useless. I felt useless in the face of such a massive issue, and the only inkling I'd had for some type of plan was entirely out of the question right now. Wolves didn't intermingle. We stayed away, remained with our own packs, and didn't look outside those numbers for potential mates.

It was a fucking terrible idea. The others had to know this. But what change could I make on my own? I needed the other alphas to go along with this if we wanted to see any results.

"Not going to happen," I mumbled, shaking my head.

I reached for the rocks glass at my left. My whiskey was running low, and I downed the rest of it in a single gulp. The burn washed down my throat, doing nothing to ease the strain behind my eyes, but I could hope, right?

The pungent, distinct flavor of good scotch coated my tongue. I could pick out each note of caramel and peat and barley. I only had the good stuff in the compound, and I shouldn't be abusing it like this, but desperate times and all that. Besides, it wasn't like traditional painkillers did anything, either.

It's booze or bust.

The hard clink of the glass on my table was loud in the otherwise quiet study, and I looked up at the fire dancing in the woodstove across from me. The orange glow filled the space with a subtle tint, sunset bottled into an iron belly that needed to be cleaned. Still, it was warm, and the winters in the Rocky Mountains were not kind.

On cue, the wind howled outside my window, and my wolf itched to go running through the snowy valley. It had been some time since I'd let him out properly, and my nerves were itchy and tense as a result.

I looked at the scenery, abruptly standing up and walking to the glass. I laid my fingers against the cold surface, the bite of the chill hitting my palm like a kiss. The snow was really coming down, and in the morning, many of us would be needed to dig out the cars and tools we used to keep the compound stocked and comfortable.

Rumbling low in that invisible place inside me, my wolf paced, impatient and hungry.

"You want to go outside."

My wolf silently growled, a noise only I could hear, and I scoffed. I knew what the bastard wanted, that animal part of me that was as much of me as it wasn't.

He wanted freedom. He wanted to run. He wanted to run…to her.

"Put a leash on it, buddy. That's not an option."

Stalking back over to my desk, I sat down in my chair with a humph. I picked up my glass, even though it was empty, and just held the thing. I gripped it tightly, doing everything I could to ignore that omnipresent need to go out there, which had been especially strong as of late.

There was no going to that omega, though. She didn't belong to us, no matter how my wolf felt about her, how I felt about her. She was a Collins, for fuck's sake. I was all for inter-pack connection, but not them. Not the Collins pack.

That damned pack was responsible for nearly all the trouble we had in this damn mountain. Aside from the humans, they were the most significant threat to our survival. They hunted right next to our territory, they vied for the same resources, and they were royal pricks when it came to cooperation.

My wolf didn't seem to care, however; even just remembering that tasty, blonde omega was enough to get me twitching.

I'd never felt the mate bond before her, and I was well into my forties now. Sure, we lived a bit longer, and there was no science to this thing. Still, I had started to think that I'd be one of the many wolves destined to be without a true mate, simply choosing someone to fill the time with if the compulsion arose, which, of course, it never did.

But life was a dick most of the time, so I shouldn't have been surprised that it partnered me with a Collins for a mate. Just like she happened to be one of the few destined to go without a wolf. Maybe if she wasn't…if she wasn't a Collins…

"Fuck. Stop this, Jet."

Wallowing about our shitty situation wasn't going to change anything. Wolfless shifters happened, fulfilling a different purpose. Wolves without mates happened—quite frequently, in fact. It was just a part of this stupid existence we enjoyed. Nothing made concrete sense, and I was really starting to believe that there truly was no rhyme or reason for any of this.

And still…

We didn't choose our mates, our lives. I was an alpha by birthright and some innate part of me. I didn't decide to be this, and a part of me knew I wouldn't have if I had been given the choice.

But I wasn't. None of us were.

I was the son of the former alpha and his mate. No matter when he died, whether it was from old age or, as the case actually was, due to a lousy fucking human hunter who'd shot them both, I was destined to lead.

I hung my head, sighing. That headache had definitely not gone away, and it had definitely gotten worse.

My computer screen had gone black at this point, and I looked at my reflection in the dark abyss of my sleeping laptop.

"You're a barrel of fucking laughs, aren't you, Jet."

Sighing again, I closed the thing and stood up. It was no use trying to get any work done at this point. The reports could wait, anyway. We weren't in dire straits for food and supplies, and I needed to walk this off. I crossed the thick rug in my office, my boots making a shushing sound against the tightly woven strands of fabric.

I'd been fighting off this headache for too long, and since it was picking up steam now, I needed to just step away and distract myself. Plus, on top of that, my shoulders ached from sitting at that desk for too long. It was not how I enjoyed spending my day.

"Scotch. More scotch is necessary."

My stash in the office was gone, so I stalked to the kitchen, hoping that my beta would be back soon with some good news about the hunt. Even the deer around here seemed to be dying out, and that wouldn't fucking do.

Going into town and purchasing things from the humans too often was risky. They could catch on to our differences, and we had no desire to draw them up into the mountain so they could keep an eye on us with their gun-happy officers.

No, they didn't know we were here, and we needed to keep it that way. Humans were worse than any rogue pack or slow disease that might be killing us; they were fueled by rage and prejudice, two things that did not mix well with others and spread worse than wildfire.

"Ugh, hurry back, Deacon. I need some good news."

Entering the kitchen, I immediately noticed Kaiden and his sister, MacKenzie, playing cards at the long wooden table. The room was low-lit, with just the roaring hearth and a smattering of candles providing a warm glow. Aside from my office, this was my favorite room in the house, and it was filled with my favorite people.

These twins were the closest thing I had to true family and the last set of youngsters that the pack had seen. I smiled as I walked up, my nerves already relaxing as I let the power of nostalgia thread through me.

The kitchen was massive but homey. The large table that stretched across the far end matched the deep brown counters—aged mahogany that had stood the test of time. The walls were stuffed with cabinets and shelves of the same make, and a combination of MacKenzie's healing herbs and Sonja's for cooking hung from the ceiling alongside all the copper cookware.

This was the center of the house, the meeting room for dinners and war counsels alike. Of course, we did have a proper chamber for that, but when it was just me and those closest to me, we were in here—the command center.

"Hey, Jet." MacKenzie's cheery voice eased the frown plastered all over my face, and I smiled. "Wanna play?"

I walked over to them, standing behind MacKenzie and looking at her cards over her shoulder. Flicking my eyes over to Kaiden with a smirk, I nodded.

"Sure. When you win this."

"Oh, don't start that now!" Kaiden sighed, tossing his cards down on the table with a light chuckle. "Well, fuck. Guess I'm out, then."

Doing a little dance in her chair, MacKenzie giggled heartily, grinning from ear to ear and making her tight copper ringlets bounce in place.

"Thank you, Jet!"

I couldn't help the laugh, and Kaiden got up from his chair, offering it to me with a subtle bow of his head that sent his sleek black hair spilling over his face. Slipping into the seat, I smirked at him as he leaned against the island in the center of the room.

"Ha! Well, you know better than to play MacKenzie in Texas hold 'em, don't you?"

He just rolled his black eyes playfully. "I guess I should. Kenz, you need to let someone win for a change if you want to keep any friends."

"Absolutely not!" She shook her head, holding her cards to her chest. "I will keep them with my charming personality."

The room erupted into a chorus of laughter. Damn, I loved these two. They were as different as siblings could be, from their looks to their skill with card games. But they were loyal, some of my dearest friends and basically my pseudo-children. The evening was shaping up to be much better now.

"Jet! Pack!"

Shouting boomed from the front door, and I exchanged worried looks with Kenzie and Kaiden. We all sprinted from our chairs, hurrying to the entrance hall in a flash of movement that sent the cards flying to the floor.

"MacKenzie!" Grayson hollered, dragging one of my pack across the floor. "He needs you!"

The copper scent of blood hit my nose gunshot-hard, and I reeled backward.

"Deacon?!"

Kenzie and I shot forward, the healer going straight to my beta's side. I was there at his other, and Kaiden was right on my heels, taking the place at Deacon's head.

"What happened?" My voice was a low growl, the angry power of the alpha flowing through the words.

I knew I didn't need to use my station on Grayson like that. Still, it was instinctual. My beta was covered in too much red, and my stomach lurched as I raked my eyes over him.

"Deacon was coming back from hunting. He'd hit the southern woods. All I could get out of him was that he'd been going after a trespasser."

A furious burn radiated through my blood. Someone had come onto our land? If he'd been defending us, this was a fucking murder, and I'd have whoever did this strung up by their guts. I lowered my nose to Deacon's brown hair, tussled and matted with blood. I breathed deeply. I needed more information. I needed to know who—

There it was. "Collins."

MacKenzie's working fingers stilled as I bit out the word, and each of the other wolves with me growled low beneath their breath.

"Are you sure?" Kaiden's concern seeped into his voice, but I snapped at him regardless.

"Are you questioning me?"

"No, Alpha." He lowered his head, looking down at Deacon and squeezing his hand.

I shook my head, clenching my jaw as I tried to rationalize against the roiling fury that soared higher within me.

"Kaiden, what can you smell?"

Trusting him with another scenting showed good faith, and he nodded before moving closer to take in a deep breath of Deacon's smell along with all the others that might provide clues.

"I can smell that burn of Collins. It's familiar, a wolf we had problems with in the past. There's Douglas fir and a middle-aged buck. And…alcohol. In the other wolf's blood. They were drinking? When they were out hunting?"

Rolling my eyes, tension radiated through my jaw and made me ball my hands into fists.

"The Collins don't prioritize safety or secrecy. I've run into a few myself on the edges of our property, drunk and looking for a quick kill."

The seconds dragged on, and I returned my attention to Kenzie. As she worked to assess his injuries, she spoke her findings aloud. The rest of the pack started running in from the other rooms. The sound of their footsteps, their fucking breathing, was too loud.

"Fractured ribs. I think one punctured his lung." Just then, Deacon's eyes flared wide as he coughed, blood splattering onto his lips. "Dammit. Yeah. He's got contusions on his abdomen. There's claw marks here, and…"

We hung in stillness as she probed his neck. After a moment, her eyes widened. She sat back on her heels, and Kenzie's brows knit together as a watery sheen coated those deep blue irises.

"Bite marks. In the jugular. He's not…" She struggled to speak, her normally calm ocean air scent going haywire. "He's…not going to make it."

"No!" The word roared out of me with the force of a train. "Fix him!"

Kenzie's sobs echoed through the room as Kaiden gripped Deacon's hand. Aside from the cough, he hadn't moved. He hadn't moved in far too long, now.

"Come on, brother." I lowered my forehead to his. "Open those eyes. I'm not done yelling at you, not by longshot."

But there was just stillness, and in the seconds that passed, grating over me like a jagged blade over rough scabs, Deacon's body went utterly limp, his scent dying in my nose.

"He's gone," MacKenzie said—low, quiet, and still.

I felt like she'd screamed the loss of my beta, one of my dearest friends, to the fucking stars. I roared into the room, shaking the walls with its ferocity. How could this happen? Deacon had been one of the best hunters and fighters that I knew. He'd served me for decades as my beta.

We'd grown up together.

But we all knew it. Deacon's color had faded so damn quickly, and that fresh mountain scent of his evaporated into the air, whisked away by the breaths of those who remained living.

"No." It was a whisper at first. "No!"

Screaming it now, I looked around the room at the stricken faces. My pack, my family, was one short and dwindling by the second. Fucking hell. How do I…dammit.

Turning back to Grayson, I chewed out an order through gritted teeth. "You find who did this. You end them where they stand. I don't care if it means all-out war with the entire Collins pack. Someone is going to pay for this."

Grayson's eyes flared at me, and I jabbed a finger in his direction. "I said go! You tell the Collins pack I'll see their alpha's head on a pike for killing one of ours."

He stumbled to his feet, shaken by the force of an alpha demanding something from him. "Of course, Jet. I'm-I'm on it."

He ran off, and I was left holding the weight of Deacon's cooling body in my arms. Kaiden put a hand on my shoulder, silently offering his strength, and then Kenzie was around at my side doing the same. The twins being there was the only thing that kept me from tearing the room and its contents to pieces.

"You'll be given to the ancestors, friend. I assure you. You…" I hovered my hand over Deacon's face before closing his eyes with my fingers. "You'll be fucking avenged, brother. So long as I draw breath, not a single member of the Collins pack will sleep until this is made right."