CHAPTER 2
BREKKER
The morning wanes, the soft glow of the suns replaced by blistering heat as they reach their apex in the Wulfric sky. Most of the citizens of my domain have long been indoors, where the suns’ rays cannot harm them.
I blink as the automatic shutters fully close, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the change in light.
I see better in the dark.
We all do.
The days on Wulfric are short, and the long nights are cooled and kissed by gentle moonlight—the only thing gentle about the planet where my people made a home.
The moon calls to us.
Especially to me—to my family.
Troubled, I blow out a breath, leaning back in the chair at my desk.
I should find a place to curl up and sleep during the Hallec, the name for the hottest hours of the day.
There is no doubt in my mind, though, that sleep would not come to me, not today, not when the latest results of the Scion test sit on my data pad, the same as they were the last three times I was tested for it.
The Scion test is required for a mating match to be made. It weeds out poor genetic matches, encouraging the strongest Wulfric bloodlines to blend and strengthen our people.
It also determines genetic markers for those who are forbidden from breeding.
The bloodlust gene is the anomaly most clans are concerned about spreading—no one in their right mind wants their beast or their offspring’s beast to manifest bloodlust.
I swallow, opening the test results on my data pad again. The joints of my fingers ache from clenching my fists, and I force myself to take a few deep breaths, stretching them as the data pad slowly loads the latest report. Technology doesn’t always work as well during the Hallec, the heat and proximity of Wulfric’s suns interfering with communication.
Another reason my kind sleep during these hours—there is no point in fighting the sun in addition to our biology.
“Fuck.” The word explodes out of me, and the chair goes crashing to the floor as I stand abruptly, pacing behind the desk.
The first time, I was sure the results were an error.
The second time, I tried to convince myself of the same.
The third time should have been enough—but I decided on one more test to rule out any errors, any possible contaminated results.
The latest results are the same.
I carry the bloodlust gene.
The Wulfric Scion system will never match me with a female, will never let my genes dilute another clan.
Any hope I had at offspring vanished as soon as the first test ran, and I’m the stubborn fool who made them test three more times.
A notification pings through my data pad, and I blink, surprised out of my reverie that the suns still allow any communication through.
It’s unlikely that it’s another Wulfric, as most are asleep now.
Intrigued, I stalk back to the desk and the damned data pad. A distraction is exactly what I need right now. I take a moment to put the chair back upright, breathing through the heightened awareness gripping me, the need to shift as my adrenaline spikes, riding me hard.
I control it, though. I always do.
A shiver racks me as the urge to shift heightens, goose bumps pebbling across my skin.
Closing my eyes, I breathe through my nose, concentrating on each millimeter expansion of my lungs, on purging the anger and frustration raging in every cell.
Finally, somewhat calmer, I pick the data pad up, my still-lengthened claws clicking against it.
The screen glows in the dark, and the comm that dinged in appears at the top of the inbox. I click it, confused to see it addressed to both my sister and me.
A hologram dances along the screen.
“Congratulations on being chosen as a recipient of the new Starlight Brides Lottery program!” a computerized voice tells me, antagonizingly loud in the silence of the room.
“What?” I growl.
“Your new bride will be delivered with the next light cycle, or twenty-four hours standard time. Thank you for choosing Starlight Jobs Lottery to fulfill all your needs. We hope to do business with you again.” The dancing animation finally ends, and I blink in confusion.
A moment later, the door to my office swings open, and a familiar bleary-eyed and panicked face grimaces at me.
“Tessa.” I hold up the data pad, and my sister cringes again. “What the fuck is this?”
“Okay, listen, listen—”
“What does this mean?” I play the message again, the obnoxious hologram dancing across the screen once more.
At the mention of Starlight Brides, my sister lets out a pitiful whine.
“What did you do, Tessa?” I demand, staring at her. Her light blonde hair casts her face in shadows as she stares at the floor, a heightened reaction to the Alpha tone in my question.
“When you were upset about the, uh, test results last time… I thought you wanted a mate. So, I uh, I acted on behalf of the whole clan and you and, ah, I put in an application with the Starlight Jobs Lottery’s new, er, matchmaking service—”
“No werewolf can be my mate,” I growl.
Does she not understand? Does she not understand that no offspring of mine that stands to mutate can be allowed to live?
“You would sentence me to a life of punishment,” I choke out, sickened by the thought of it. “To find a mate, willing, only to have our children taken away—”
“Not a werewolf mate,” Tessa interrupts, taken aback. “Obviously not.” She tsks. “You matched with a human.” She flicks her hair behind her shoulder, her tone so matter-of-fact that it takes a moment for what she’s done to register.
I gape at her. “A human?”
“Yes, a human female. Breeding age for their species.” She grins at me, and I furrow my brow at her.
“What would I do with a human?” I’m agog. Aghast.
“You do know our species are genetically compatible, right?” Tessa gives me her patented you’re an idiot look, and I glare at her.
“I am the leader of our clan,” I growl. “I cannot take a human mate.”
“Well, she’s on her way here.” Tessa’s tone is light and breezy, as if we’re discussing what to have for dinner or the latest trivial clan gossip.
Not as though we’re discussing the fact that she’s essentially ordered a mate for me the same way she would order a dessert.
“Do you want to see her?” she adds, and before I can refuse, she’s whipping out her own data pad.
A hologram rotates on her screen.
My breath catches.
The human woman is lovely, with delicate bone structure and dark eyes. There’s something sad about her, something that begs for further inspection. A haunted look to her eyes paired with a ferociousness that calls to the wolf in me.
I clear my throat.
“Uh-huh,” Tessa says knowingly. “That’s what I thought.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” She shrugs one shoulder, stifling a small yawn. “I can tell when you like something. Or, in this case, someone.” One eyebrow raises.
“A human?” I ask, but it’s not really a question. I’m intrigued by the idea.
A human woman, on Wulfric.
“Yeah, and you better be nice to her.”
“Do you think I would be cruel?” I’m genuinely curious. I have a reputation. Of course I do. When I was forced to step into the leadership of the clan as a sixteen-year-old, the only way I knew how to keep all the challengers in line was brute strength. It was all they respected, all they knew.