Chapter 1
“It’s going well, really,” Brian Berger said. He was lying on his bed in the middle of the day, hair disheveled from dragging his fingers through the curls, forearm draped over his closed eyes, and cell phone on his chest, all but whining to his oldest friend who was also his former pack’s Alpha. He didn’t need to see Jobe Root’s face to know he likely hadn’t believed a word he’d said.
“Brian?” As usual, Jobe’s voice was even, his tone calm, and he asked a lot without using many words.
“I mean it.” He cleared his throat. “All things considered.”
“Do you want to talk about thosethings?”
“Not really, no.” Except wasn’t that why he had called Jobe?
“I’m here when you do.”
“I’m a little lonely,” he admitted.
“You hoped you’d move to your new pack and meet your mate. It’s understandable that you’re disappointed, especially after everything that happened with Ricky Marx.”
Ricky was a Psi Omega, a male omega who could birth children. He was also sweet and meek. Ricky fit the criteria of Brian’s ideal mate, so Brian had been disappointed that he was fated for someone else. Especially when Brian found that someone else lacking.
“That was a cluster fuck,” Brian agreed. “But Ricky and his parents insist that Morgan Peters is a great Alpha and a caring mate and they’re happy in Golden Valley now.”
Jobe chuckled, predictably reading his tone. “You don’t believe them?”
“If I believed them, I wouldn’t have attacked Morgan when he came here looking for Ricky.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
He grunted, not sure he had been wrong and unwilling to give any more mental space to that possibility.
“Mother Nature will bless you with a mate who’s perfect for you.”
“I’m thirty-three years old. She needs to hurry it along.”
“Sick of playing the field?” Jobe asked knowingly.
“Done playing the field,” Brian confirmed. “I’ve lost all appetite for it.”
“Maybe that means it’s time.”
If he hadn’t grown up with Jobe, he wouldn’t know what he meant because the man often spoke in concepts more than words. But Brian’d had a lifetime to learn his good friend’s language, so he understood the implication—the time for him to find his mate was near. “From your mouth to Mother Nature’s ears.”
“Is not meeting your mate yet what has you down?”
“Partly.” He sighed. “And I’m homesick.” He had spent his first thirty-two years in the established, flourishing, harmonious Red River pack, same as his parents, their parents, and every one of his relatives. Even though people born in Red River generally stayed in Red River, at some level Brian had always known that he’d have to leave because he couldn’t be the Alpha of that pack and his soul itched to lead. But knowing and experiencing were two different things.
“That’s expected,” Jobe said. “But I imagine it’s still a challenge.”
“It is. I miss the obvious big things like my parents and my sister and you. But it’s the more subtle things too. I miss the sense of community, the underlying joy in my packmates. I even miss the land in Red River.”
“Our packlands exude strong energy.”
“Sure, and I don’t expect other packs to have that much power, but it’s more than what’s beneath surface. The landscape here is dry, more dead than alive. Nothing thrives in this land.”
“That’s worrying,” Jobe said thoughtfully. “If the land in your pack doesn’t flourish, how can your shifters?” Jobe was the most spiritual person Brian had ever met, and while his words could sometimes come across as hokey, he was rarely wrong. “Maybe that’s why they lack joy.”
“That’s a good point.” Brian evaluated the connection Jobe had drawn. “Everyone here believes that Purple Sky was languishing because of the previous Alpha’s age and the succession gap. They have this idea that my being here will be enough to turn it all around, but as flattering as that sounds, it hasn’t struck me as completely accurate.”
“You’ve been the Purple Sky Alpha for almost half a year now. If you sense there’s more going on, then there probably is. And if you’re feeling a shortcoming with your land, that may be a big part of it.”
