Chapter 20
SINCLAIR brOTHERS
T he council chamber felt too small for three agitated alpha werewolves, though the circular room with its high domed ceiling had hosted pack gatherings ten times this size for generations.
Cade paced near the ancient oak table, his body still humming with energy despite the hours spent running in wolf form.
Logan leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, his posture deceptively casual though his eyes tracked every movement in the room.
Keir stood at the window, staring out at the ocean, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the glass.
The past month had been the closest thing to perfection any of them had experienced.
Since that first night after the lake incident, Finn had blossomed in their attention, his initial hesitation melting into a sweet surrender that left all three alphas constantly fighting their wolves’ urge to claim him completely.
Mornings brought sleepy kisses over shared breakfast, afternoons filled with stolen moments—Finn pressed against the library shelves by Cade, curled in Logan’s lap on the terrace, laughing as Keir chased him through the garden.
Nights were a revelation, Finn rotating between their beds, his small form fitting perfectly against each of them in turn.
The strange scar on Finn’s hip—the one he’d had since childhood but never understood—seemed more sensitive than ever, often glowing silver when they touched him.
They hadn’t told him it was a pre-marking, hadn’t explained how their parents had bound him to them years ago for his protection.
That conversation required more context than they’d been willing to disrupt their newfound harmony to provide.
But reality had intruded yesterday in the form of a thick envelope bearing the Seattle Art Institute logo.
Finn’s excitement had been palpable as he’d torn it open, revealing the acceptance letter and scholarship offer inside.
The brothers had exchanged knowing glances over his head, a silent acknowledgment of their role in ensuring this particular school accepted him while the others—particularly those on the East Coast—had mysteriously rejected his applications despite his obvious talent.
Seattle was close enough to monitor, safe enough to allow.
They’d prepared for this, had apartments secured, security measures in place.
Finn would have his freedom, his chance to grow as an artist, while they protected him from afar.
It wasn’t ideal, but they understood his need for independence, his dream of becoming a recognized artist on his own merits.
Still, the timing couldn’t be worse. Just as Finn was truly becoming theirs, just as the bond between them was strengthening, he would be leaving. And now, with Elder Miriam’s urgent summons, they feared complications they hadn’t anticipated.
“You summoned us,” Cade said, his voice carefully controlled as he addressed Elder Miriam MacKenzie. “You said it was urgent.”
Elder Miriam nodded. At seventy-eight, the white-haired seer remained the most formidable member of the council, her petite frame belying the power she commanded.
“I had a vision last night,” she explained, her blue eyes—still sharp despite her age—focusing on something beyond the room. “Brief but troubling. Something ancient is stirring.”
“What did you see?” Logan asked, pushing away from the wall.
“Blood moon… darkness stirs… ancient one awakens… six vessels sought…” Elder Miriam recited, her voice taking on a distant quality as she recalled the vision. “Fox and wolf… powers bound and broken…”
“And this concerns Finn?” Cade asked, taking a seat at the table, his brothers following suit.
“I believe so,” Elder Miriam confirmed. “The vision showed six beings of mixed supernatural heritage. Finn appears to be one of them—the fox and wolf. There was danger… a sense of being hunted… but the details remain shrouded.”
“The Shadow Harvesters again?” Keir asked, his usual easy manner replaced by deadly focus.
“Perhaps,” Elder Takoda said gravely. The ninety-two-year-old Coast Salish elder was the oldest among them, his connection to the land spanning nearly a century. “But the vision suggests something more. Something directing them.”
“We’ve also noticed the pre-marking bond has strengthened considerably,” Elder Wu interjected, her delicate features arranged in an expression of concern.
At seventy-three, the Chinese American fox spirit was the youngest of the elders, but her expertise in binding rituals made her insight invaluable.
The three alphas exchanged glances, acutely aware that they carried their mate’s scent despite their run and subsequent shower. The morning’s activities had clearly not gone unnoticed by the keen senses of the council.
“Intimate contact strengthens pre-marking bonds,” Elder Robert Washington confirmed, his deep voice resonant in the chamber.
The African American wolf elder adjusted his glasses, a modern touch against his traditional ceremonial attire.
“But yours has grown stronger than expected, faster than normal. The connection between you and Finn has intensified beyond what traditional pre-marking would allow.”
“Is that dangerous?” Cade asked.
“Not dangerous,” Elder Rory Campbell clarified, stroking his gray beard thoughtfully. The blood magic practitioner was Miriam’s brother-in-law and the keeper of the oldest Sinclair rituals. “But significant. It suggests the seal on Finn’s powers is weakening.”
“The seal was meant to hide him from the Shadow Harvesters,” Logan said. “We knew they were after him when they killed his parents, and later, our own.”
Elder Miriam nodded solemnly. “You witnessed their first attack when Finn was eight, and again when he was thirteen. Your parents died protecting him, just as his had.”
“That’s why they performed the emergency pre-marking,” Keir said grimly, the memory of that night still vivid. “To shield him when the Shadow Harvesters returned during the Blood Moon.”
“What we didn’t fully understand,” Elder Takoda added, “was the extent of what the Harvesters were seeking. You knew Finn’s mother was a fox shifter, but what you may not have known was that Sakura Tanaka wasn’t just any kitsune.
She was royalty—seven tails, from an imperial line. Her power was extraordinary.”
“Finn’s father, William Tanaka, mentioned she was powerful,” Cade said thoughtfully. “But never the details.”
“William was protecting her, and later, Finn,” Elder Robert explained. “The imperial kitsune line has been hunted for generations. Their abilities—particularly in illusion magic—make them valuable targets.”
“So they sealed Finn’s powers,” Logan concluded. “To hide what he truly was capable of, to make him less detectable to the Harvesters.”
“Exactly,” Elder Wu confirmed. “They performed the ritual just before their deaths, as if they sensed the danger coming. The seal was meant to suppress his kitsune abilities completely, but it affected his wolf side as well, preventing him from shifting at all.”
“And now the seal is breaking down,” Keir said, understanding dawning. “That’s why his fox features keep appearing.”
“The pre-marking bond is accelerating the process,” Elder Wu added. “Your connection to him is gradually eroding the barriers his parents placed. It’s why the bond has grown stronger than expected—it’s not just connecting to the Finn you know, but to the powers that have been dormant within him.”
“Which means the Shadow Harvesters might sense him again,” Cade said, his voice hardening with concern. “If his powers are awakening, he could become detectable to them once more.”
“This isn’t the first time such visions have come,” Elder Takoda said gravely. “Since the Blood Moon massacre that claimed your parents and the Tanakas, we’ve been monitoring signs of ancient evil. But nothing concrete has emerged.”
“Until now,” Elder Wu added. “Miriam’s vision, though vague, is the strongest indication yet that something is building. Not immediately, perhaps, but in the years to come.”
“So Finn isn’t in immediate danger?” Keir asked, seeking clarification.
“We can’t be certain,” Elder Rory replied honestly. “The pre-marking offers substantial protection. As long as it remains intact, he should be shielded from direct supernatural detection.”
“And his shifting?” Cade asked. “Can we help him break the seal his parents placed?”
“It would be unwise to attempt that now,” Elder Wu cautioned. “Not until we better understand what we’re facing. The seal, while limiting his abilities, also helps conceal his dual nature from those who might seek him.”
“So we wait,” Logan summarized, clearly displeased with the lack of action. “Until when?”
“Until we gather more information,” Elder Robert said firmly. “Until Miriam’s visions become clearer or until we identify the specific threat. Rushing blindly could put Finn in more danger, not less.”
“In the meantime,” Elder Takoda added, “maintain the bond. Keep him close when possible. But don’t alarm him unnecessarily with fragments and shadows. When we know more, then decisions can be made.”
Cade nodded, processing this information.
It wasn’t what they’d hoped for—clear answers and a definite course of action—but it was better than complete ignorance.
They now knew more about Finn’s heritage, understood why he couldn’t shift, and had warning of a potential threat, even if that threat remained nebulous.
“We appreciate your counsel,” Cade said, rising from his seat. “Please inform us immediately if anything changes, if Miriam has more visions, or if you discover anything about this… ancient darkness.”
“Of course,” Elder Miriam assured him, her strength evident despite her age.
“And Cade? Remember that the mate bond between you is unique. Powerful. Finn’s dual nature makes him special, but also potentially volatile.
Be careful how you approach this. If he feels trapped or manipulated, his kitsune nature will rebel. ”
“We understand,” Cade promised, though privately he wondered if anyone could truly understand the complex being that was their mate. “We’ll protect him, however we can.”
As they left the council chamber, the three brothers moved with renewed purpose. The run had cleared their heads, burned off the excess energy from their morning with Finn, but this meeting had given them much to consider.
“What do we tell him?” Logan asked as they reached Cade’s office in the main house. “About his parents? About what he is?”
“The truth,” Cade said firmly. “Or at least part of it. He deserves to know his heritage.”
“But not about the vision,” Keir suggested. “Not until we know more. It would only frighten him for no reason.”
They entered the office, closing the door behind them. The space was quintessentially Cade—leather-bound books lining mahogany shelves, a massive desk overlooking the ocean, everything meticulously organized. It smelled of him, of pack and authority and safety.
“This is worse than we thought,” Cade said grimly, moving behind his desk. “An ancient power targeting Finn specifically.”
“We need to be careful how we tell him,” Logan said through their pack bond as he paced the length of the room. “Not overwhelm him all at once.”
“But honest,” Keir countered silently. “He deserves that much.”
Cade nodded, acknowledging both perspectives through their mental connection.
“How can it be him?” Logan said aloud, his voice irritated as he ran a hand through his hair. “He’s just a kid, a bratty little fox who can barely control his shift. Of all the supernatural beings to target?—”
“You don’t mean that,” Cade reminded him through their bond. “You’re just frustrated by the danger he’s in.”
“Of course I don’t mean it,” Logan replied silently. “I’m terrified for him. I love him.”
“Fate has a twisted sense of humor,” Keir replied with a resigned sigh, dropping into one of the leather chairs. “First making us wait years for him to mature, now this ancient threat.”
“We tell him about his parents first,” Cade instructed through the bond. “Then about the seal. But we wait on the vision until we know more.”
“We have a duty to him,” Cade said aloud, his voice firm. “To protect him, no matter what it takes.”
“More than duty,” Logan added silently. “He needs to know this isn’t just about the mate bond or obligation. That we’ve wanted him for years.”
“That we love him,” Keir agreed through the bond. “Have loved him since before the Augury confirmed what our hearts already knew.”
Their conversation continued, the spoken words focused on protection and threats while their mental exchange centered on love and devotion.
“I think we should tell him tonight,” Cade finally decided, moving to the window to gaze out at the ocean. “About his heritage, about the seal. He deserves to know who he really is.”
“Agreed,” Logan nodded, his earlier frustration replaced with determination. “No more secrets about his parents or his abilities.”
“And if he runs?” Keir asked quietly, voicing the fear they all shared.
Cade turned back to face his brothers, his expression resolute. “Then we follow. Always.”