The Chilkat Inn smelled exactly as it always had, of old timber and beer. Members of his pack filled most of the booths, with a few trusted humans scattered among them, voices low.No one dared look at Arthur, hunched in the back corner with a beer he hadn’t touched.
Dani’s scent still clung to him. Warm, sharp, wild. The bond wouldn’t quiet. It pulsed beneath his skin like a second heartbeat.
The door opened. A blast of cold wind swept in along with four strangers.
Arthur’s head lifted instantly.
Not locals, not Volkhov, not Nordan.
Severney.
The tall male at the front moved with quiet, predatory ease. Broad-shouldered, but not as heavily built as Arthur. Dark auburn hair brushed his shoulders. His eyes were clear green, startlingly bright in the dim light. He scanned the room once, then walked toward Arthur with the measured confidence of someone who knew exactly how dangerous he was.
Rory Byrne. Alpha of the Severney.
There was a woman beside him, moving like smoke, alert and graceful, chin high. Her dark hair framed a clever, pretty face. Witch, Arthur realized grimly as he scented the air. Not wolf.
“Arthur Wells,” Rory said with a faint smile, slipping into the seat opposite him.
Arthur grunted, leaning back with a scowl. Chase, who had been hovering at the bar, immediately crossed to Arthur’s booth and slid in beside him.
“Forgive me,” Rory said with a dimpled smile and a curved grin, “I probably should have requested formal rights toenter your territory. I just figured, what with this big meeting Volkhov’s called…”
Arthur didn’t rise to the bait. He stared down the alpha, jaw tight. Chase fidgeted next to him, clearly irritated at his lack of motivation to speak, before fixing the newcomers with his signature dazzling smile. “We don’t tend to go in for all that paperwork stuff here. We’re all wolves, eh?”
Arthur chuffed out a bitter laugh, his attention turning to the petite woman standing sentinel behind Rory. “Aye, all wolves, are we?”
If anything, Rory’s smile widened. “This is Kiara, my second.”
Kiara nodded once, studying Arthur openly. Not hostile. Assessing.
Chase’s eyebrows drew together. “Second. Not your mate?”
A flicker of irritation crossed her expression before she schooled her features back into their neutral façade. “No. We aren’t mates.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Chase said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought…never mind.”
Arthur raised a brow at her, and she met his stare coolly, moving ever-so-slightly closer to Rory. With another huff of amusement, Arthur took a swig of beer. So the little witch had a thing for the alpha. No wonder Chase had mistaken their connection.
“She’s vital to the operations of my pack,” Rory said, leaning back. “I know most of our kind aren’t too fond of witchcraft, but I’ve found a more…ah…liberalapproach to running things has its benefits. Doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
Kiara didn’t hesitate. “You could say that.”
Arthur went still, fist tightening around the glass.
Noticing his white knuckles, Kiara grinned, her teeth shining white. “Is there a problem, Alpha?”
He didn’t answer. Not directly.
“You walked a witch into my territory without warning.”
“Following your example,” Rory said. “Heard it on the road in. You’ve just taken one to mate.”
Chase choked. Arthur’s jaw clenched.
“My bond is none of your concern.”
“Everything is my concern,” Rory replied, green eyes flashing. “Hybrids have been circling my mountains for months. They’re getting bold. Organized. Someone’s directing them, and that someone is using magic.”
