I lift the edge of the curtain a touch, just enough to glimpse the fields that lay beyond the cabin. I don’t spot any wolves, but I know the pack wouldn’t leave me unguarded despite my freedom from them, so I suspect their presence nonetheless. I let the curtain drop, inhale a deep breath, and turn back towards the cabin.
Even though I try to stay optimistic, I can’t help but suspect that my business with the Rockwell Pack has not yet concluded. Not after what’s been revealed.
Chapter Eight
Camden
The few members of the Rockwell Pack who traveled with me have set up in a spacious building a few miles away from Aesara where shifters stay when they’re traveling through. It’s on the edge of the forest, giving our wolves ample space to run about—a necessity for our more primal halves.
I received word that more members are on their way, wanting to offer their support in the face of the difficulties I’m currently up against.
Those difficulties arevast.
I sit at the head of the large chestnut table in the dining room, watching my brother pace back and forth over the stone floor in front of a fireplace on one side of the room. The rest of our packmates are littered throughout the large home—a few in the dining room with me, chatting with each other, and more occupying the many other rooms.
Both Wyatt and I had the fortune to find our mates in Aesara—but that fortune soured rather quickly. Wyatt’s mate, Leisel, is too young to be taken, as per the laws my father enacted during his reign to givethe remaining humans an illusion of protection and power. My mate, though she’s old enough to be taken by my pack, despises me with every fiber of her being and actually managed towin a duelto stay away from me.
I glimpsed her hatred each time she looked at me. Her tempting lips curl ever so slightly in disgust, and her eyes glitter with malice. It’s hatred that seems to extend to all shifters, and I’d wager all mythics as well.
I expected complications with having a human mate. There have only been a handful of cases where humans were accepting of mating with mythics from the start, and I can’t entirely blame them. This world was theirs before we made it ours, and the changes we imposed caused much damage and discontent to their ways of life. Not to mention the fact that all but a few hundred thousand humans were killed off without the aid of technology they’d come to rely on, along with their silly attempts to fight off mythics.
I never expected the complications to be a soul-deep hatred from Sierra, however. I assumed there would be fear that my mate would need to be coaxed past—even a strong dislike. But Sierra doesn’t fear me whatsoever, nor does shejustdislike me. If I’m reading her correctly, she simply wishes to see me suffer and most likely drop dead.
Wyatt casts a glance at me as he paces. “Our mates are earthly witches. Leisel’s an even more powerful healer than Claude, and she’s a child. Your matehas the Black Flame. We need them, for more than just the strength to be gained through bonds; the pack will need their powers.”
I nod. “Quite so.”
I only got a small glimpse of the fire Sierra manifested—but that fire wasgolden and black. If the lore surrounding that particular variation of magical fire is anything to go off of, black flames destroy anythingthey come into contact with. That ability will beincrediblyuseful in the war that’s brewing.
I recall overhearing the plump man Sierra was speaking with after the duel ask her what her fire did. I looked at her just in time to see her eyes darken, and hear her solemn response, “Nothing good.”
As for Leisel, the healing capabilities I saw her display are remarkable. If she’s already able to heal extensive wounds within the span of a few seconds, it stands to reason that she’ll be able to do a great deal more in the future.
“We can’t leave without them,” Wyatt says, running an agitated hand through his dirty blond hair. “Irefuseto leave without Leisel, and I doubt you’ll leave without Sierra.”
If Sierra lost her duel, I’d have no problem tying her up, throwing her over my shoulder, and forcing her to come home with me. Once there, I’d have plenty of time and space to build a relationship with her—to attempt to bypass her innate hatred of mythics and of me. It's impossible to do that at present, though, because she won her duel.
I must admit, watching how soundly Sierra beat Aspen both angered and impressed me. It should have been impossible that a mere human—even if she’s an earthly witch—could beat one of the warriors who always travels with me for protection, yet Sierra didn’t use any magic during the fight—just blurring speed, and unbelievably accurate strategies. She seemed to know the few weaknesses shifters have and capitalized on them brilliantly.
I respond to Wyatt, “Legally, I have no power to take her with me; Sierra won.”
Which means I’ll need to get clever with how I go about this. I could appeal to the shifter high court, as I know and work closely with all the counselors seated on it, but that would be a lengthy legal process requiring time I don’t have.
“There has to be some loophole we can use,” Wyatt rumbles, rubbing his temples with his index finger and thumb. “If we don’t have our mates, the pack will end up crumbling.We’llend up crumbling.”
He’s right. Aside from the fact that I need to be bonded before facing war with the vampires, I now understand that Sierra will prove quite a dangerous distraction until we’ve completed our bond—or at least reinforced it with a mark and consummation. A bond can take a long time to reach completion as it requires a couple to achieve a certain level of openness and emotional intimacy, but once the bond is sealed with a mark and consummated with sex, it’s mostly formed and highly functional. Until those two cornerstones are reached, though, it seems the bond will only torture me with mental images of Sierra, memories of her taste and scent, serving as the most alluring distraction.
The few times we’ve been in proximity, she held my attention so soundly that I struggled to form coherent thoughts. When we’re apart, I can’t think of anything but her. Last night I tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep, our kiss playing on repeat in my mind, experiencing a growing desperation to kiss her everywhere. I know that’s the bond at work, but it’s also the fact that she’s so singularly unique and captivating.
Everything about her is enthralling to me. Her flaming long red hair, her remarkably unique golden eyes, the light dusting of cinnamon freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her lithe, toned body that gives me an erection the likes of which I’ve never felt in my thirty-four years of life.
I’ve known her for less than twenty-four hours, and I’m already a man obsessed. I want to know everything there is to know about her. I want to fucking consume her—body, mind, heart, and soul. I’m already addicted, and an Alpha with an addiction is a very dangerousthing, especially when it’s for someone who’ll go to the grave with resistance.
It doesn’t help that my inner wolf is pushing me to seek her out, to fuck her in any and every way possible. To hear her compelling, lilting voice without the coating of anger it’s carried the few times she’s addressed me.
I glance up as Aspen strolls into the room. Her embarrassment of losing a fight to a human is still vast, and she apologized to me profusely after the duel, begrudgingly admitting that she’s barely seen any warriors of my pack move with the speed that Sierra did. I gave her a stern scolding before instructing her to venture into Aesara to gather all the information she could on Sierra and Leisel as penance—a task achievable with enough gold coins.
She approaches me, eyes downcast, and motions with a hand towards a seat to the left of me requesting permission.
