2. Chapter 2
Adrian
I slump into my office chair, wrapping my fingers around the steaming mug like it's a lifeline. The black coffee burns my tongue, but I welcome the pain. Anything to kick-start my foggy brain.
Another night, another exercise in staring at the ceiling.
Sleep and I have never been on friendly terms. Even before I took over from my father as sheriff of Saltford Bay, rest came in fitful bursts. But these days? Two, maybe three hours if I'm lucky. My body runs hot, restless, like an engine that can't idle properly.
I scrub a hand over my stubbled jaw, feeling the fatigue settled deep in my bones. My wolf paces anxiously inside my chest, the beast ever restless.
My cell phone's ringtone cuts through the morning quiet like a scalpel. The screen pulses with a familiar name as I consider letting it go to voicemail. It's six thirty in the morning. She could have at least waited until eight before ruining my day.
I take a deep breath of coffee-scented air and answer anyway.
"Morning, Mother."
"Adrian, darling." Her voice carries that distinct high-pitched note that I've come to dread, the high-pitched note that means she's prepared for an argument. “Good morning to you as well.”
For fuck’s sake. It’s too early and I’m too goddamned tired for this. But I know her well enough to understand I have no choice. If Meredith Wolfsbane wants to argue with someone, no one is going to stop her.
She’s the alpha's mate, after all.
“I sent you an email last night,” Meredith continues without losing a beat. “Have you had a chance to review it yet?”
I grip my department mug tighter, staring out the window at the fog rolling in from the bay. The town below my office is just beginning to wake, the baker unlocking his door, fishing boats returning with the morning catch.
"It's six thirty, Mother. I've been reviewing security reports since five. Between the strawberry festival and the Draak wedding, I’m swamped."
"Always the dedicated sheriff." Her tone softens momentarily before sharpening again. "Well, if you have a chance to look it over, the email contains profiles of several eligible females from respected packs along the Eastern Seaboard. All would make suitable mates for you."
My jaw tightens, and I feel my wolf stirring beneath my skin, bristling with annoyance.
"I don't need a dating service."
"What you need is a mate, Adrian. Your father is looking forward to retirement, and you cannot fully ascend as alpha without a mate. It's tradition."
"I'm aware of pack tradition." I shuffle papers on my desk more aggressively than necessary. "I don't need reminding."
"Then perhaps you need motivation." Her voice takes on that infuriatingly reasonable tone she uses when she thinks she's being clever.
"I understand there's a dragon wedding happening at Windfall Manor in less than two weeks.
Several prominent werewolf families will be attending.
It would be the perfect opportunity for you to—"
"I'll be overseeing the security," I cut in. "Not socializing."
"One can do both, darling. The Blackwood alpha's daughter will be there. And the Silverclaws are sending their twins. I’ve been told the Silverclaws in particular are looking for mates."
My wolf paces restlessly under my skin as the familiar pressure builds.
I'm thirty-six years old, for God's sake. I won’t allow pack politics to rule over my personal life. Not even if it means upsetting the tradition when I finally take over my father’s place as alpha.
Not that my mother would ever understand that.
"I need to go. I have work to do."
“Of course, dear. Just look at the profiles.” She pauses, then adds, “Do it for me.”
She ends the call before I can refuse again.
I set my phone down with more force than intended and run a hand through my hair.
The sun creeps higher over the harbor, painting Saltford Bay in watercolor oranges and pinks.
The old Victorian buildings along Main Street catch the light just so, their windows flaring gold.
On days like this, my territory's beauty almost balances the weight of protecting it.
Almost.
I take several deep breaths, pulling air through my nose and letting it fill my lungs completely before releasing it. The coffee cools in my mug as I center myself, reclaiming control from the irritation my mother so effortlessly stirs.
My enhanced hearing picks up familiar footsteps in the hallway, the steady rhythm of Deputy Chemko's gait, along with the paper bag rustling in his grip. The scent of sugar and butter reaches me before his knock does.
"Come in."
Bobby Chemko pushes through the door with his shoulder, juggling a coffee cup and two grease-spotted paper bags.
He's shorter than me but solidly built, with short-cropped black hair, watchful brown eyes, and an easy smile that puts witnesses at ease. He’s also a member of the pack, like most of my deputies.
"Boss, you're making the rest of us look bad." He tosses a bear claw wrapped in waxed paper onto my desk. It lands with a soft thud next to my stack of reports. "Sun's barely up and you're already buried in paperwork."
"Someone has to be." I unwrap the pastry, my stomach suddenly growling, the scent of cinnamon and sugar momentarily displacing my lingering irritation. "You're early yourself. "
"Brought the revised security assignments for the dragon wedding." He sets down his coffee next to mine. "Figured we should finalize everything before your meeting with the inspector from the fire marshal's office."
I pull the map of the sprawling estate of Windfall Manor from the stack at my elbow and spread it across the desk, securing the corners with my mug and a stapler. The lines of the map overlay with my red markings for security positions and patrol routes.
"We'll need to close these access roads." I tap three winding paths leading up to the manor. "Redirect civilian traffic here, here, and here. Set up security checkpoints to verify guests against the list."
Bobby leans over, studying the map. "Expecting trouble?"
"I'm expecting rubberneckers. Half the town's trying to catch a glimpse of the new Draak matriarch-to-be.
Plus the usual media vultures." The paper map feels reassuringly tangible under my fingertips as I trace the perimeter.
"I want two officers at each checkpoint, rotating shifts every four hours. "
"Got it." Bobby nods, making a note on his tablet. "What about the ceremony itself? We stationing anyone inside the grounds?"
"Two at the gate, two patrolling the exterior gardens. The Draaks have their own security for the house interior, dragons mostly." I mark the positions with blue dots. "I'll be at the main entrance, overseeing the arrival sequence."
Bobby's heartbeat ticks up slightly as I continue assigning positions. When I mention the lengthy perimeter patrols, his scent shifts subtly. A touch more musk, a hint of anticipation. I smirk but try to hide it. By the look on Bobby Chemko’s face, I fail .
"I was thinking Maya and I could take the north patrol route," he says with forced casualness. "And have Jared and Mark cover the south."
I look up from the map, one eyebrow raised. "You know, you could just ask her out instead of orchestrating romantic patrol routes."
“It's not like that.” A flush creeps up his neck. "We work well together, that's all."
"Right." I don't push it further, making a mental note to pair them anyway. Maya Lorne is one of my best deputies, and if something's brewing between her and Chemko, then I’m all for it.
A new scent reaches me from the hallway, interrupting my train of thought. Expensive cologne with notes of smoke and minerals. Dragon. Specifically, Percy Ashbane. His distinctive knock follows a moment later.
"Enter."
The door swings open to reveal Percy in all his polished dragon glory.
Tall and athletic with sandy-blond hair and warm green eyes that contrast with his tailored charcoal suit.
His wings are neatly tucked behind his back, the light-green scales shimmering slightly in the low light.
His smile is genuine as he directs it at me.
“Percy.” I rise to grasp his outstretched hand, clasping his forearm in greeting. His handshake is firm, warm with the natural heat all dragons carry. “Didn't expect to see you until this afternoon.”
"Seraphina sent me to town for specialty candles at Primrose Pristine Home Decor. Thought I'd stop by while I was here."
He turns his gaze to my deputy and nods. "Bobby, good to see you."
"Mr. Ashbane." Bobby answers the nod with one of his own.
"Just Percy, please. We've known each other since middle school. "
Bobby grins. "That was what, twenty years ago? You nearly set the gymnasium on fire."
"An unfortunate accident with the emergency flares," Percy says with mock dignity. "I'll let you get back to work. I just wanted a word with the sheriff."
"Sure thing. I'll distribute these assignments and check on the equipment order for the strawberry festival." Bobby gathers his paper and coffee, nodding to me. "Back in thirty, boss."
When the door closes, Percy relaxes visibly, loosening his tie and dropping into the chair across from my desk.
"Thanks for handling this personally, Adrian. I know a society wedding isn't exactly your idea of a good time."
I return to my seat, leaning back. "You'd do the same for me."
"If you ever actually settled down, absolutely." His smile widens. "Though I'm beginning to think I'll be gray before that happens."
"Considering dragons don’t turn gray, I’d say it’s rather pessimistic of you." I take a sip of coffee, find it's gone cold, and set it aside. "How are the preparations going? Silverine driving everyone insane yet?"
Percy laughs, the sound rich with genuine amusement.
"She's actually been surprisingly reasonable. It helps that Seraphina handles her perfectly." His expression softens. “She’s going to be one fine matriarch, that’s for sure. I can’t believe my luck that she’s marrying a nobody like me. Can you?”
"No, I don't," I say dryly, but with a smile on my lips. "And I don't need the details on how you made that miracle happen. I remember how wild you were as a young dragon."
Percy’s laughter fills the small office, as warm and contagious as when we were kids. He always had a way with people .
"You're missing out." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Being tamed isn't half-bad."
"I'll take your word for it." I flip open the file on the security detail about the wedding.
“We’re already preparing for a sizeable crowd wanting a peek at the next Draak matriarch.”
I pause for a moment, wondering if now is the right time to bring this up. Then I decide now is as good a time as any.
“Should I be worried about people looking for Kraxon as well?”
Percy’s natural, warm smile stiffens and his eyes lose a bit of their softness. The scent of smoke coming from him increases subtly, enough to tell me I’m right to bring up the issue.
"You’ve heard?"
I study Percy more carefully. His posture remains relaxed, but there's tension around his eyes and his heartbeat has picked up a fraction.
"Not directly. There are rumors, of course. Some scandal with an elven royal client?" I keep my tone neutral, watching for reactions. "Should I be concerned about any impact on the wedding security?"
Percy's scent shifts again, the ashy undertone growing stronger.
"He's keeping a low profile. Trying to avoid fueling the press. You know how it is. Guilt by association. But so far, the clan thinks we can keep the disruption to a minimum. I’ll let you know if things change."
His heartbeat quickens almost imperceptibly. The smile on his face tightens at the corners.
"I understand discretion," I say carefully. "My team will handle everything professionally. "
Relief visibly washes over him. His scent warms again as he squeezes my shoulder in gratitude. "I knew I could count on you."
I've known Percy long enough to recognize when he's not telling me everything, but I also know when not to push. Whatever's going on with his brother, Percy will share when he's ready. Or when he needs to.
One way or another, a wolf knows better than to intrude on a dragon’s business.
"The town’s aspect of the security measures are all covered," I assure him. "We'll coordinate with your private dragon security for the ceremony itself."
“Perfect. I should get back before Seraphina sends out a search party.” Percy stands, his smile genuine once more. "Or worse, comes looking herself."
He moves toward the door but pauses with his hand on the knob.
"By the way, have you met the wedding planner yet? Julia?"
"No," I reply, returning to my maps. "Been focused on perimeter security rather than the event itself. I'm meeting with her this afternoon to go over the sequence of events."
A smile spreads across Percy's face that immediately puts me on guard.
"She's certainly something. Organized as hell. Impressive for a human."
I offer a noncommittal grunt, but Percy doesn't take the hint.
"Actually, I think you'd like her," he continues. "Doesn't take nonsense from anyone. Reminded me of you, actually."
Then I don’t suppress my growl .
"I don't need another matchmaker," I retort. "My mother is more than enough."
Percy raises his hands in surrender, but the amused gleam in his eyes remains.
"Just making conversation. See you at the walk-through tomorrow."
After he leaves, I stare at the door for long moments. Just what I need, Percy joining my mother's campaign to get me mated off.