Werewolves, as shifters, could change small things about their appearance at will, but with the help of the type of dark magic Alex had access to when he possessed the amulet, complete transformation was not only possible but could be permanent. After taking down Alex, Silas had wanted a DNA test to prove the body they thought was Alex’s was actually his, which meant he’d needed a family member’s cooperation. Alex’s sister, a society member herself, was more than happy to oblige, but supernatural DNA testing took time.
Even Laina had to admit that was a good enough reason for her brother to adopt a more totalitarian leadership style. To keep the pack safe, Silas had to lead with an iron fist. It was understandable. She simply wanted no part of it. She envied the freedom of the human woman sitting at the front desk, blissfully unattached and unencumbered. Laina wanted a life free of both pack politics and Silas’s overreaching protection.
She wanted to be her own alpha.
Laina lifted her gaze to meet her brother’s. “Seriously, Silas, I know you wouldn’t risk the life of this sweet pup on my table unnecessarily. What is so important that it can’t wait?”
“We confirmed the body we recovered from Silver Sparrow Mountain was Alex’s.”
Laina paused midstitch and released a relieved breath. “Alex is dead, then, without a doubt?”
A smile spread across Silas’s scruffy face. “Sister was a match. It’s him. He’s dead.”
She finished her last stitch, shaking her head. “You did it, Silas. If Mom and Dad were alive, they’d be so proud of you.” She gave him a genuine smile.
“The society seems happy about it.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his blazer. “They’re throwing a party in our honor tonight at Rivergate Manor, formal attire.”
She groaned. “I can’t go. I have a date.”
“A date? With whom?”
“A guy.”
“What guy? All the society members are going to be at the ball.”
“Not a wolf.”
“A human?” he scoffed. “Come on, Laina. Be serious. You can reschedule your playdate. This is part of your royal duty.”
“You know how I feel about these things.”
“Yes, I do. You hate being a princess. You think that because I’m the alpha, your involvement in the society isn’t necessary. And you would prefer to simply live your life in the human world, only joining us for an obligatory run on Rivergate Manor’s protected property three days a month.”
“Exactly.” She cleaned Ginger’s stitches and applied a sterile dressing. “You’re the heir. And frankly, even if something happened to you, Jason would get the crown—not me. I’m completely dispensable, and that’s okay. I prefer it that way. I didn’t spend eight years in school to leave veterinary medicine behind and raise a litter of werewolf pups.”
Silas frowned. He opened his mouth as if to say something and closed it again. She backed off the anesthesia and removed the intubation. Ginger whined softly. Laina whispered, “You’re going to be fine, sweet girl.”
“It’s not all about you, you know,” Silas said.
She straightened, gritting her teeth. “If my life isn’t about me, who is it about?”
“The pack. Whether you like it or not, you are Fireborn royalty, which means the largest pack in North America looks to you for leadership. They also look to you to provide the future of the pack.”
“You mean children.”
“Royal children. You are a descendant of a primary family, a pureblood. The society is going to expect you to choose a suitor from within its ranks.”
A drop of werewolf blood was enough to technically make someone a werewolf, but such a person might never shift. The greater the concentration of primary werewolf blood, the greater the chance of displaying werewolf qualities: strength, speed, ease of shifting, enhanced senses. Pureblood babies kept the pack strong and preserved the werewolf way of life. It was why mating with humans was discouraged.
“They expect the same of you, Silas, but I don’t see you picking out your wedding tux. Hell, the last woman you dated wasn’t even a werewolf.” Her brother had dated a celestial fae for ages. Although the relationship was casual, he’d enjoyed her company regularly enough.
Silas scowled at being called out. “I can father children into my senior years. Your biological clock is ticking.”
She scooped Ginger into her arms and carried her through the doors to the kennels they used for recovery. Silas followed, parking himself against the wall while she made the spaniel comfortable.
“I’m not marrying someone simply to appease society elders,” she said. “I will marry who I please, and I will marry for love or not at all.”
Silas drew a hand through his wild brown hair, his bushy eyebrows giving him an unquestionably wolfish appearance. “Listen, Laina, you know how this works. You can have something on the side. Marriage among werewolf royalty has often been more contractual in nature than anything else.”
