Kent nods. "That makes sense. But why not ask Marcus for help? He's even more powerful than I am, and the help he can give would be above board.""Marcus is Charles's family now," I say with a shrug. "He can't truly help me, and I can't truly trust him.""You could seduce him," Kent says. "Create a rift within the family.""Absolutely not," I say automatically. "That's not who I am."Kent looks skeptical. "Or is there maybe another reason?"I look at him in surprise."Come on, Nicole. I saw the way you looked at him at the wedding reception," Kent says. "You have feelings for him. I just don't think you realize that yet."Annoyance and self-consciousness crackle through my veins, and I scowl at Kent."That is none of your business," I snap in a whisper. "If you're going to poke into my private life like that, you can forget about being partners. It'll never work.""All right, all right!" Kent raises his hands in a defensive position. "I'm sorry."I take a drink of my fresh whisky and
"Nicole? Are you still there?" Kent sounds like he's asked this a couple of times, and his voice sounds impatient. I shake myself from where I'm standing at my hotel window, staring through the dingy gray curtains out onto an even dingier gray street."Sorry," I say. "I'm here. I'm just – well, Kent, I'm really freaking terrified."Kent's voice softens immediately."I know, Nick," he says. His tone becomes low, soothing, steady. I latch onto it, letting it ground me. "Trust me, this is big, and I'd be scared shitless if I were you, too.""Gee, that makes me feel better," I say, trying to make a joke of it. Kent laughs, softly and kindly."It should," he says. "Look, Nicole, you'd be an idiot if you weren't scared. I'm scared. I'd feel a lot less confident in this plan if you weren't feeling scared.""Really?" I ask, wrapping my worn wool cardigan more tightly around myself. The light in my hotel room is dim, the walls bleak and cheerless. Everything around me is colorless, just like m
"Boss?" One of Charles's staff is bobbing outside his open office door, hovering like he isn't sure he's supposed to knock or not. Charles refrains from rolling his eyes."Yes, Mickle, what is it?" Charles is tense. He had to pull a couple of big strings to get the police to jump on chasing Nicole's car, and he's nervous about the outcome. So much for the war on drugs; if Charles hadn't offered a substantial bribe, the Chief of Police couldn't have cared less."We have news," Mickle says, still hovering. Charles perks up at that."Well, for god's sake, get in here and close the door, then," he snaps, sitting upright behind his desk and reaching for the decanter of whisky on the bar cart behind him. He pours himself a healthy glug and drinks half of it in one go, not bothering to offer any to Mickle.Mickle scuttles inside and shuts the door behind him."I just got a call from our officer inside," he says, sounding breathless. "It's over. It's done. Nicole is dead."Charles chokes on h
It's Monday, which means it's an Alpha Meeting day. Marcus sighs to himself. These meetings are important, and he'd never miss one, but he's not particularly looking forward to this one.It's the first Alpha Meeting after Daisy's wedding, which makes Marcus the only unmarried Alpha child. It weakens his position – an Alpha must be part of a mated pair bond, someone who can offer the strong promise of heirs.Daisy is already pregnant, which strengthens her position quite a lot when paired with Charles's substantial role within the pack. Joel has been married for three years already, with one small son.Marcus is the youngest, and he's the only one without even the hint of a mate on the horizon. In fact, he has a reputation as a bit of a playboy, which works against him. He's put off sorting out that side of his life for far too long, and he knows it.He knows that his family thinks he's cavalier about it, that he's neglecting that side of his responsibilities, but nothing could be furt
Daisy, Joel, and Charles can barely contain their excitement, Marcus notes with distaste. It's tactless, the way their eyes gleam and they practically bounce in their seats.Yes, this is a moment that all three Alpha children have been anticipating for some time, but it's hardly graceful to be so obvious in their eagerness. Father retiring means that he no longer feels that he can keep up with the duties of his role.Marcus is firm on how he feels about this: he wants to be Alpha as much as either of his siblings, but he cares deeply for his father as well. Family politics can be messy, but at its core, an Alpha's family is supposed to be a pack all in itself. They're meant to lead by example.A werewolf pack functions best when its members are loyal to one another, genuinely care for one another, and have each other's backs. There will always be some competition, of course; that's only natural. But at its center, a pack is meant to be a family.Strong, unbroken family bonds are the t
I stare around me at the villa that Kent has brought me to under the cover of night. It's beautiful: an airy, spacious house nestled in the countryside outside the city. The furnishings are modern, clean, and bright, and the large windows will surely light up the entire place during the day.It's gorgeous, and I don't want any of it.Kent takes me on the tour anyway, leading me through the expansive kitchen and dining room toward the staircase that leads to the upstairs bedrooms.There are four bedrooms, the largest of which has been turned into a sort of detective office. Photos of Charles and his associates, the Alpha family, and various copies of documents are pinned to all the walls."Sorry to take over the master bedroom," Kent says. "But we need all the space we can get if we're going to bring these assholes down. The other bedrooms are just as nice, I promise.""It's fine," I say dismissively. "I don't need a fancy bedroom. I'm going to sleep in that little servant's room.""Wh
Marcus paces around the meeting room behind the library, feeling uneasy. There is still no word of Nicole, despite his staff's best searching. Everything they investigate turns up only the news that Nicole is dead, plain and simple. She isn't, Marcus can almost swear to it. He doesn't know how he knows – despite their other supernatural gifts, werewolves aren't psychic – but he just knows. Or, more accurately, his wolf knows. Marcus still isn't sure what to make of that.
"Are you ready?" Kent asks me. He's sitting at the kitchen table in my villa, drinking a cup of coffee from the fancy espresso machine on the countertop and scrolling through his phone. He hasn't even looked up, and I clear my throat impatiently. "What?" he asks, finally raising his head. "You look great. I told you that you would – you don't need me to approve your outfits." "Well, excuse me for being a little nervous on my first day a