27. Ryan

Chapter twenty-seven

Ryan

I gripped the steering wheel, maneuvering my black SUV along the winding road that led to Bridgetown. Mai was in the passenger seat next to me. Mason sat silently in the back, his gaze fixed out the window. The faint hint of Mai's jasmine perfume mingled with the earthy pine scent wafting in through the cracked open windows and part of me wanted to swing the car over, order Mason to fuck off, then kiss every inch of her, and sink my cock into her fucking amazing pussy. But we had a job to do. Today was the day we nominated someone for the Wolf Council. We had until twenty-two hundred to find Jem.

We were headed to the Bridgetown Pack to meet with Michael and Camille. As our Beta, Derek was in charge back at Three Rivers. I hated leaving him behind, but I needed someone I trusted to look after things while Mai and I were away. Derek was beyond capable; he'd stepped up as acting Beta numerous times when Jem was alive, and I'd been away searching for Mai. Still, unease gnawed at me. We were entering foreign territory, and I felt the absence of my Pack bonds keenly, like something vital was missing. My wolf was unsettled and didn't like it. He wanted us to turn around, take Mai back to the safety of our home, our territory.

As we got closer, I could see the vibrancy and life pulsing through the town. Flowers bloomed from every window box, shops displayed wares proudly behind gleaming windows, and people milled about the tidy streets. Under Michael and Camille's leadership, the place was a prospering community that drew both humans and werewolves.

We followed the winding streets until the facade of their Alpha House emerged. I pulled up in front of the building and put the car in park.

I inhaled deeply as we got out, sorting through the mingling scents of unfamiliar wolves and humans. The air was thick with scents, far more than I'd encountered at the Alpha House before. There were several vehicles parked along the street, and groups of people milled about the front lawn. Laughter and chatter filled the air, punctuated by the occasional excited squeal or shout.

A group of three women and two men hurried past us, their arms full of bolts of fabric in various shades of red, cream, and gold. They were discussing color schemes and floral arrangements, their voices rising with enthusiasm. Two men followed close behind, carrying large wooden crates that clinked and rattled with the unmistakable sound of glassware.

The front door swung open, and Michael stepped out onto the porch, his sharp First Nation features set in a polite smile. Beside him stood Camille, her chestnut hair swept back in a neat chignon that highlighted her graceful neck and the delicate curve of her jaw. They made a striking pair—Michael's tall, lean frame softened by Camille's taut elegance. Both of them exuded an air of calm authority .

"Ryan, Mai, welcome," Michael greeted, his gravelly voice warm. Camille nodded, in her usual reserved but not unfriendly way.

"Mason, you've returned," Michael continued, and his voice was a lot colder now. "Camille and I have said all we intend to say about the matter."

Mason folded his arms across his chest and stared directly at Michael. It was a challenge. "I'm aware," he replied gruffly.

What the hell happened when Mason and Derek came here? And why the hell hadn't Mason given us a heads up?

A scuffling sound emerged from behind Michael and Camille, followed by a teenage voice. "Tucker, it's mine!"

"Not again," Michael sighed, stepping aside to reveal two boys in the foyer. The taller of the two clutched a book to his chest, glaring down at the smaller one.

"I just want to look at it!" the younger boy insisted, jumping up to try to snatch the book. He was all spindly limbs and tousled hair.

The older boy held it out of reach. "Tucker, you got ice cream over one book and then jelly all over the last one I was reading. Just let me read in peace!"

"Enough, both of you," Camille interjected, her voice sharp. "We have guests, in case you didn't notice."

The boys looked over at us, recognition flashing across their faces.

"Ryan! Mai!" Tucker exclaimed, his grin growing even wider. He darted over to give me a quick hug before bouncing over to Mai. He ignored Mason. Henry hung back, offering us a polite smile and nod, just like his mother.

"Sorry," Henry said sheepishly. "We didn't mean to interrupt. "

"No need to apologize, Henry," I assured him. "It's always good to see you two."

I meant it. I liked Michael's boys.

Tucker was already chattering excitedly to Mai. "Did you bring presents? You have to see the go karting track dad made for me out back, it's so cool! And Henry got another new book, but he won't share it." He looked up innocently at Mai. "Maybe you can make him?"

Yeah, he wasn't fooling anyone here.

Mai laughed as Henry rolled his eyes in exasperation. Camille placed a gentle hand on Tucker's shoulder. "Alright, let Mai and Ryan come inside. You can pester them later."

Tucker sighed dramatically but allowed Camille to usher him down the hall. Henry shot us an apologetic look before following. I bit back a laugh. Tucker always had a way of lifting everyone's mood.

Michael waved us into the spacious central hallway. "My apologies for the disruption. Tucker is full of energy today."

"Just today?" Mai teased as we followed Michael.

Michael dipped his head at Mai and smiled. "Good point. This is Tucker every day, as you all well know, having spent some time here. It just feels more taxing today because of all the arrangements."

"Arrangements?"

"Yes, Shya is to be mated to Edmond. I'm not sure you've met him yet. His work takes him traveling every now and again."

Mason didn't seem in the least bit surprised. Just extremely pissed off .

"When the fuck did that happen?" I blinked, trying not to laugh as the words tumbled out of Mai's mouth. She definitely hadn't quite got the hang of this Alpha diplomacy thing yet.

Michael and Camille looked taken aback at Mai's outburst. I placed my hand on the small of Mai's back.

"My apologies," Mai said quickly. "It was surprising news, that is all. And when is the, er, happy event?"

Camille seemed slightly mollified when she replied, "We're going to have the ceremony in two weeks. So, as you can imagine, the place is abuzz with preparations and Tucker is a little more overexcited than usual."

We followed the Bridgetown Alphas through the hall. The inside of the house was just the same as the last time we were here, as sleek and modern as the exterior, yet punctuated by warm accents and furnishings that lent a certain hominess. Michael led us straight to a set of carved wooden doors which opened into an expansive study. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined two walls, packed to the brim with leather-bound volumes. In the center sat an imposing antique desk, meticulously organized. Two plush leather couches faced each other near the windows, angled to take in the view of the gardens outside.

"Can we offer you any refreshments?" Camille asked, motioning us to sit down.

Mai sat down on the nearest couch. "No, thank you." I sat next to her as Mason stood behind us both, watching our backs. He wasn't the only one who hadn't forgotten that Mai and I had been attacked in this study by one of the Bridgetown Pack.

I leaned forward, elbows braced on my knees. Time to get down to business. "We have an update on Brock. "

Michael and Camille's attention sharpened, their postures tensing. I quickly summarized our findings, along with Talia's warning about ripple making Shifters feel impure to the extent that they were breaking their Pack bonds.

Mai finished for me. "And we're pretty certain Brock is framing Ronnie for the ripple shipments."

"Are you sure about this? You have the proof?"

Mai shook her head. "Not yet, but it all adds up. And we still don't know where he disappeared to after Jem took over Three Rivers. All of this could have been years in the planning."

"I'll be damned," Michael muttered. "Nothing suggested Brock was capable of this. If it's true, he's cleverer than we gave him credit for."

Camille smoothed her skirt. "I'm having difficulty believing Brock, or indeed any werewolf, is capable of spearheading something so destructive to our kind. What's his motive?"

"We think it's about a power grab. Ripple gives him immense power over the Shifter communities. We know he's working with the witches. It's speculation at the moment, but if they have a spell to reverse the effects of ripple, to mend the bonds, then he can unveil it at the right moment and be the hero of the Shifter community."

"His ultimate goal is to rule the northern Packs," Mai continued. "With ripple, he can weaken them, create chaos. Leaving the door open for him to step in and take over."

Michael and Camille glanced uneasily at each other.

"Do you have any clues as to Tristan's whereabouts?" I asked. "He's a known associate of Brock's. If ripple is involved, he likely is too. "

Michael grimaced. "Unfortunately, we have yet to locate Tristan since his disappearance last month. However—"

"We've received intelligence he is still fixated on our daughter," Camille interjected, her tone tinged with steel. "He taunts her periodically with messages, insisting she's meant to be his mate."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mason stiffen.

"It's one of the reasons why it's important that she is mated to Edmond as soon as possible. It will protect the succession of our family and bring much needed stability to this Pack."

I'd forgotten that Alphas in the Bridgetown Pack tended to pass the role on to their children. Other Packs fought it out, but Michael's family had been Alphas here for the last hundred years. Shya, as the oldest, was next in line. It was a good political move, mating her to someone within the Pack. Of course, if it was my mate, I'd burn the world down before I'd let her mate with someone else. And if I knew my brother, he definitely had plans to do the same. This changed things. Whatever Mason did, we couldn't afford to have a hostile Pack on our borders, not right now.