“Tennessee,” the guy replies as if that tells me anything. Apparently, my brain doesn’t come up with a response quickly enough, because the guy adds, “Not too far outside of Nashville.”
I’ve at least heard of Nashville and have a vague idea where it’s located, but that still doesn’t explain anything about what’s going on or why this guy thinks I need to go up there.
“Okay,” I say slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers. “But before we get into all that, who the hell are you?”
“Oh.” Some of the confidence has left the guy's voice, not that there was a whole hell of a lot to begin with. “Given the circumstances, I suppose we weren't exactly introduced before. This is Ezekiel.”
I stare blearily at the wall, trying to put a face with the name, or really, anything at all with the name.Nothing.I’m drawing a complete blank. I have zero idea who this guy is, and with a name like that, I’m pretty sure I’d remember him.
After a few seconds of silence, the guy clears his throat. “Doctor Ezekiel Stevens? Most people call me Doc.”
The words filter through my ears, but it still takes a second for the name to register in my brain. When it finally does, I about drop my phone in shock.
I'm definitely awake now.
“Stevens?” I ask tightly, my voice moving into a low rumble. “As inZachariahStevens? You’re related to that asshole?
“Um, yes?” He lets out a strained chuckle. “I’m his brother. We met at—”
“What do you want and why the fuck are you callingme?” I ask in a flat tone, remembering quite well the circumstances under which I met this guy. They involved Doc kidnapping my cousin Keir and planning to hand him over to Zachariah.
“Well, er, you're my—our Alpha?” He pauses. “Technically.”
It’s way too damn early for this shit.His words make sense generally speaking, as in I understand the definitions, but… I blow out a breath. “Look, I have no idea what the hell you'regoing on about. I already have a pack and you’re not in it. I think I’d know.”
Wouldn't I?
“Technically, you have two packs,” he replies as if I should be expected to know this. He waits a beat then adds, “Zachariah died in a challenge.” He pauses. “A challenge fought by proxy,yourproxy…”
I shake my head even though the guy can’t see me. He can’t possibly be implying…
“That fight was ages ago. Are you saying your pack has considered me their Alpha for over ayearand you’re just now getting around to telling me about it?”
“Well, we haven’t needed anything before now.” Another long pause. “And there's not much of a pack left up here. As I'm sure you're aware, my brother was not well-loved. When only his body returned from Wisconsin, and I told everyone the Sweet Water Alpha was in charge now, most pack members chose to leave and join packs farther away.” He huffs out a weak laugh. “Your father was even less liked than Zachariah.”
“Yeah…” I draw out the word, my irritation growing. “I still don't see why you're contacting me. You may be correct that I’m technically the Alpha of the—where was it? Smyrna?—pack, but if there aren’t enough shifters up there to be considered a pack…”
“Since the triumvirate makes the laws regarding packs and shifters in general, unless they officially disband a pack, then one still exists,” he replies. “No matter how few the members.”
I let out an exasperated breath, gently banging the back of my head against the bed. “I don’t want to debate legal definitions or whatever with you. I want to know why you’re calling me after over a fucking year to drop whatever this is in my lap.”
“It wouldn't be necessary except, like I said, we have an issue that requires an Alpha.”
“Whatkindof issue?”
“There’s a shifter here who is stuck in wolf form.”
That gives me pause. Being stuck in wolf form is not a common problem. “For how long?”
“I'm not entirely certain,” he replies. “He’s been this way for at least twenty-four hours, but almost certainly longer.”
“Is he feral?” I ask, hoping for an answer in the negative. Feral shifters—those who spend too much time in their wolf form and get lost in the animal mindset—are almost always put down by the triumvirate, and I don’t want to be responsible for calling them in.
“Not that I can tell.”
I release a quiet huff of relief. “Whatcanyou tell me then?”
He’s silent for a beat. “Not much?”
