Being at odds with my wolf is a first for me. Typically we’re in harmony, agreeing on when to eat, when to assert our dominance, and when to mark what’s ours. As long as I give him enough time in fur, he lets me do what I need to when it comes to everything else. He doesn’t even have interest in chasing tail the way other males young and old always do, which works fine for me because I have enough on my hands managing pack matters to add juggling the attention of females who only want to fuck the alpha to lord the status over the others for a better cut of meat at dinner. It’s better if I don’t show anyone my favor to keep the rank-chasers from thinking I’ll choose them as a mate.
I don’t have time for any of this. Not with the impending summit.
This year it’s being hosted by Timber Hollow Pack’s alpha, Alistair Ryan. Packs from all over the region gather once a year as part of the accords between the groups of shifters that broke free from the Original Pack hundreds of years ago.
The pack was made up of direct descendants of the first shifters, and it died out thanks to the tyrannical rule of the successive line of power-hungry alphas driving its people away. Those that made their new settlements in the surrounding areas banded together in a treaty for alliance and prosperity while other groups went out into the world until the shifter population grew, rivaling today’s human population globally.
Beyond the harsh terrain of Wanderer’s Canyon to the far south, where feral and rogue shifters roam in their wolf forms, the wasteland known as the Deadlands serves as a warning to all shifters in the region of our history before we worked together peacefully.
If all goes well, I’ll be able to improve trade between Silver Falls, Timber Hollow, and our other nearest neighbor, Crescent Valley Pack. It’ll be my first time pushing for anything in this year’s accords. The last few winters have been harsh. Alistair’s pack and Crescent Valley both have better resources than we do on the mountain to sustain them throughout the year, which has only grown more challenging since I made the decision to cut back on unsanctioned travel off packlands.
I spent the most time in Timber Hollow’s territory when other packs hosted me as heir apparent to Silver Falls as part of the peace agreement. It’s a way for those who are next in line can build relationships between nearby packs for trade and learn different methods to lead. It’s Silver Falls’ turn to host Alistair’s heir. I’m hoping that will make Alistair want to support my bid for an updated trade agreement between our packs.
I peer through the trees as the path curves around the south face of the mountain. The forest where Timber Hollow Pack lives is just visible in the distance past the foothills and woods surrounding Ashbury between our territories.
Visiting other packs opened my eyes to many things that make an alpha worthy of leading their pack, but those weeks down in that forest only made me want to come back here. They interact the most with humans and their technology out of all of us, and it was exhausting to regulate control over my more wild behaviors for their sake. Besides, the lake in Timber Hollow doesn’t compare to the natural springs dotting the mountain. I missed hiking to the highest point for the best view in the region and the falls…and—
I cut myself off from reminiscing about what it is that makes this mountain home, tearing my gaze from a fallen leaf that’s the right shade of amber to match—
Fuck. No. I blow out a terse breath and roll my neck, stretching a tense knot from my shoulders.
The interaction with Avery refuses to leave my head, poisoning every thought and bringing my awareness back to her no matter how much I steer myself away. If I don’t address it head on, she’ll own my mind the rest of the night.
A snort jerks my head. This shouldn’t surprise me by now. After all, none of the Morgan clan turned out to be who my family thought they were.
Yet I’m stuck on her. More than I should be, noticing more than I allow myself to.
Like the dark circles smudged beneath her eyes. How lean she’s grown ahead of the winter season.
The way the afternoon light catches on her golden light brown hair. The shape of her expressive mouth. The challenge in her eyes that always makes the blood in my veins pump faster. I bring my thoughts to a halt once more.
Noticing anything about Avery is a dangerous path. One I don’t grant myself permission to venture. Not anymore.
Not since her father challenged mine a mere week after I returned home from Timber Hollow Pack.
I swipe a hand over my mouth, turning the encounter earlier over in my head. There’s something I want to pin down about it that bothers me more than usual—other than the obvious way my wolf reacted to her rebellious attitude with interest—yet it evades me. What was she doing all the way at the edge of that border when she lives by the northernmost part of the territory?
I write the fixation off as part of my dedication to ensuring my pack is safe and cared for. Even traitors like her who live one step above banishment. Every shifter within this territory is my responsibility.
“I don’t need this right now,” I grumble.
Frowning at the picturesque view below the mountainside speckled in an array of oranges, reds, and yellows, I scratch my chest to rid myself of the phantom sensation of a spark attempting to flicker to life.
“What are you doing?”
I still at the voice, shocked I was so lost in thought that I didn’t sense my second in command approaching. “Liam.”
He dips his head in greeting, attention pausing on my shirt with a raised brow. I stop scratching and drop my hand, along with the bundle of wood.
“Itching to go to fur? Me too.” He ruffles his dark brown hair with a lopsided grin. “Wolf’s been acting up even though I went for a long hunt last night. You’d think he’d found his mate.”
My lips quirk. I appreciate that he’s never one to pry. He’s been with me through everything. We’ve grown up together from pups. Once I was officially named heir at fifteen, I knew I’d appoint my best friend as my top lieutenant. There was no other choice I’d trust more than him for the role of my beta.
For the briefest second, I consider the possibility that an impending mate bond is my wolf’s problem, quickly dismissing it. He’s never taken much interest in any female in the pack before. I’ve also never heard of a fated pairing with a Wolfless shifter. An arranged mating, sure. As far as I know, no Wolfless has ever awoken a mating bond with someone.
Avery’s the only Wolfless currently in our pack. Any we had in the past were blotted out when a wolf didn’t emerge at coming of age ceremonies, driven from the territory or put down for tainting bloodlines with weakness. My jaw clenches. It’s not how things are done around here anymore.
“Always is when there's a full moon.”
“I don’t know how some of the other packs out there handle not running whenever they want.” He shudders. “It doesn’t seem right.”
I shrug. “They’re traditionalists. They go by the oldest of ways, respecting the moon goddess’ cycle. I couldn’t live like that permanently, but it wasn’t so bad when I spent time with the nomadic Tullut in the remote northern tundra during my time traveling to different packs. It makes you appreciate the shift more.” My mouth stretches with a taunting smirk. “Teaches you how to maintain a harmonious balance with your wolf so you learn not to give in every time they want you to do stupid shit.”
His expression mirrors mine. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve got us all beat there. Are you done up here? The border line is good. I checked it myself this morning.”
There’s still one stretch left, but I let it go with a nod. “I got some extra wood for the bonfire.”