The council will not let up until I have a mate.
I’ve avoided the topic for far too long. There really are no excuses left, and the council keeps hammering one specific point. Even if I don’t immediately take a mate, I should be actively looking for one.
I can’t.
There’s only one woman for me… and she’s gone.
Pain twists in my chest, churning my guts. I refuse to think about that horrible situation. The cruelty I dealt out simply because I feared my grandfather’s power.
Not just him—the entire top council. Loretta, Jones, and Derrik. They’ve run the pack by strict laws for as long as anyone can remember.
I glare at the manor again, shifting my feet as I clench my fists in my pocket. Even though it does no good to stand here and get mad at Grandfather, yelling at him in my head, saying all the things I always wanted to say—I just can’t stop doing it.
Now that he’s gone, I’ll never get the chance to tell him what I really think of him and his rules.
Some people think the dead can hear our thoughts. I seriously fucking hope so.
Kicking at the dirt, I turn away from the manor and keep walking along the edge of the lake. Even though I hated Grandfather and probably always will, I’m self-aware enough to know that I hate myself more.
I followed his orders. I did everything he told me to do—without question. Until he gave me a command I could not follow…
My training for the alpha position started early, when I was only nine. Grandfather wanted the pack kept within strict guidelines and harsh laws. Anyone who disobeyed him was swiftly dealt with.
In my early teenage years, I hunted for him. I drew blood for him.
I even killed for him.
I have to stop and put my head in my hands. My temples throb as I cling to my skull, trying to shut out the screams of the people I hurt in his name.
I couldn’t care about anyone or anything because he would immediately take it from me. “Love is weakness,” he said. “Connections are just vulnerabilities for your enemies to exploit. Be a pillar of untouchable strength—it’s the only way to keep the pack safe!”
The one and only time I took something for myself, he punished me terribly. Then, when I thought his tyranny couldn’t get any worse, he ordered me to kill to redeem myself to him and to the pack, and to claim my position as alpha through blood.
And I couldn’t do it.
By then, I’d killed so many at his command, but I finally understood how wrong it was and what it was doing to me—and to the pack. I broke the rules, I defied him, and then I tried to cover my betrayal and find some way to repair the damage I’d done.
I was still terrified of Grandfather, just like everyone else in the pack. I didn’t know how long I could keep my secrets, or if it would even be possible to overthrow him.
But before I could even get a chance to plan my next move, he and Grandmother took a holiday to the far end of Lycan Pass, in the human world, and never returned.
Search parties were sent after them. I was not allowed to search because it was decided that I would immediately become alpha, overtaking my own father for the position. Grandfather had pushed me far harder than him, and the top council members agreed this was the best way forward.
The day I was sworn in by ancient rite was the most terrifying yet exhilarating day of my life. Even if Grandfather was found and brought back, he couldn’t speak against me now. If he even tried, he’d be bound by his own law to accept the same punishment he’d brutally inflicted upon others.
But he was never found. Traces of magic were detected, and all our scouts reported that both of them had to be dead. Their hotel room had been ransacked, personal items stolen, and blood all over the walls. Our investigators said no one could have survived it, and the body parts of very old and powerful alpha wolves are exceptionally valuable.
One of the reasons we never leave Lycan Pass—the human world has more dangers in it than just ignorant mortals.
Even though it wasn’t spoken aloud, it was well-known that Grandfather had a lot of enemies. The pack accepted his death and my ascension without much protest. But it’s been a few years now, and I still feel like very little has changed in the pack, even though I’m exhausted from trying to change it.
As I round the edge of the lake and turn towards the circle of light in the drive, I look up into the windows again. So many of them are dark. The manor is empty except for a couple of caretakers, and as much as I want to change that, it still feels like Grandfather is stalking the halls, yelling about pack politics, insubordination, and enemies at our gate.
Charity was a foreign language to him. The idea of opening up the manor to use as a community center or shelter would have made him gag.
All the more reason to do it. Wherever he is, I hope he’s turning over in his grave.
With one last look at the towering mansion, I turn towards the back doors and slip in through the service entrance. The front of the house is purposefully imposing, but the kitchen is always warm and cozy. When I push through the old wooden door into the low light, I see old Susan happily taking cookies out of the oven.
