Chapter 2
Carter
The headache started dull, right at the base of my skull, before the meeting even began.
By the time I sat down in the cramped gray room with my senior pack members and enforcers, it had bloomed into a steady pounding behind my eyes.
Meetings always went the same way. Too many voices raised, too many old grudges dragging us down, and never enough solutions. Today was no different.
“We can’t just let the Ashridge wolves push into our borders,” Jeremy snapped, his chair scraping against the concrete floor as he leaned forward.
Nolan turned his gaze toward me. “They’ve been testing us for months, Carter. If we don’t push back now, they’ll take it as weakness.”
Before I could respond, Eli cut in.
“And what about the patrol injuries? Two wolves down this week alone. We can’t keep running to that damned clinic in town. We need a permanent healer. One of our own,” Eli said bitterly.
“Like hell any healer would come here,” muttered another voice from the far end of the table.
I didn’t even catch who it was. Half the room was talking over each other already.
The voices grew louder, clashing. Old resentments flared in their tones. It was the same poison I’d inherited when I took the lead alpha position from Adrian.
Adrian and his family had run Thornebane with fists and teeth. Their brand of leadership had left scars you couldn’t see but everyone carried.
A pack built on fear, suspicion, violence. Now, it was my burden to undo all of it. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to fight back the headache.
“One at a time,” I said, but my voice barely carried over the shouting.
Jeremy slammed his fist on the table, Eli’s lip curled like he was already halfway shifted.
“Enough.” The word cracked through the room, sharper than I intended. Silence fell, except for the sound of my own ragged breathing. Every eye was on me now.
I didn’t speak for a moment, pushing my alpha presence into the air. Not as my predecessor had done, through fear and through the promise of pain, but with authority that demanded steadiness.
“We cannot afford to antagonize anyone right now,” I said, slowly, deliberately. “Not the Ashridge wolves. Not any pack. We’re still rebuilding.”
Eli’s brow furrowed. “And if they keep testing our boundaries? You’d have us sit here and do nothing until they walk right over us?”
I met his gaze and held it. “We will deal with them if they cross the line. But we don’t start a war we can’t finish,” I pointed out.
The room was thick with tension. I saw Jeremy open his mouth again, but I lifted my hand and he stopped.
“When I took over, we weren’t whole. Adrian’s loyalists left us bleeding, and good riddance.
But don’t fool yourselves into thinking we’re strong enough to pick fights yet.
We’re not. Not while half our wolves are nursing wounds and the other half don’t trust each other enough to watch one another’s backs,” I said.
I didn’t sugarcoat it. They needed the truth, not false bravado.
The silence stretched until someone muttered, “So, nothing done, then. As usual.”
I ignored the sting of that and pushed back my chair. “Meeting adjourned.”
The scrape of chairs filled the air as everyone got up, still muttering under their breaths. My temples throbbed with the dull ache of disappointment.
Another meeting, another circle with no clear end. I left the room before anyone could corner me again. The corridor outside felt cooler, quieter, like I could finally breathe.
For half a second, I let myself sag against the wall, eyes shut, just trying to ease the tension in my shoulders.
“Alpha?”
I straightened immediately. Tracey stood a few steps away, hovering like she wasn’t sure she should approach. The girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen, all wide eyes and wiry limbs.
She clutched her hands together like they might steady her shaking.
My protective instincts flared sharp.
“What is it?” I asked, softening my tone so she wouldn’t flinch.
Her gaze darted past me, down the hall, then back. “I… I need to tell you something.”
“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer.
She hesitated, chewing her lip. I could feel her fear rolling off her in waves. My wolf pushed at the edges of my control, restless, sensing danger.
“Tracey,” I coaxed, lowering my voice, “you’re safe. Just tell me.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s Rose and Brian.”
A spike of dread shot through me. This morning, a pack member had come to me in tears, saying the two kids hadn’t come back after breakfast.
I’d been about to organize a search myself after the meeting.
“They’re back?” I asked quickly.
Relief flickered in her eyes, but only for a moment. “Yes. They came back to the compound.”
I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Thank the moon. Those kids were too young to be running off like that.
But Tracey’s face was still pale, her eyes still wide with fear. Something twisted uneasily in my gut.
“What is it?” I pressed.
Her voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. “They’re not alone.”
My frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
“They… they brought someone back with them.”
The words hung heavy between us. My relief soured instantly, replaced by a low, coiling tension in my chest.
Someone. On our lands. Inside the compound.
My wolf snarled inside me, not out of rage, but out of instinct. The need to protect, to shield, to act. I forced my voice to stay steady. “Who?”
Tracey shook her head quickly, her hands twisting tighter. “I don’t know. They just came in through the east gates. I saw them from the yard.”
I exhaled slowly, fighting down the anger that threatened to rise. Not at her, but at the situation. At the endless spiral of problems that seemed to tighten every day.
A pack torn apart by generations of violence didn’t heal overnight. I knew that.
But moments like this, moments where fear lived in the bones of even our youngest, it drove the weight of my role home harder than anything else.
I put a hand on Tracey’s shoulder, grounding her trembling frame.
“You did right coming to me. Go back to the common hall and stay there. Don’t say anything to anyone yet. I’ll handle it,” I told her.
She nodded, though her eyes still clung to mine like she wanted me to promise everything would be fine. I didn’t. Promises were cheap, and I’d seen too many broken ones in my lifetime.
Instead, I gave her a steady look and a firm squeeze of her shoulder. “I’ve got this.”
When she hurried away, I straightened, rolling my shoulders back, forcing down the fatigue, the headache, the endless frustration that threatened to drag me under.
I was lead alpha of the Thornebane Pack now. And no matter how broken this pack was, no matter how poisoned by its past, it was mine to protect.
I moved fast. The east gate wasn’t far, but every step carried the weight of possibilities I didn’t want to face.
Kids sneaking off was bad enough. Kids sneaking off and bringing someone back with them? That could mean anything. Trouble, danger, disaster.
The old metal gates came into view, half-rusted from years of neglect. A familiar beat-up truck sat just inside the boundary line, dust still settling around its tires.
I recognized it instantly. It was Maria’s truck, Rose and Brian’s mother. Relief shot through me at the sight, though it was short-lived.
Because there was someone climbing out of the passenger side.
My hackles rose before I even knew why. My wolf bristled, prowling under my skin, every instinct sharpened. I strode closer, my steps heavy on the gravel.
Then the figure emerged fully into view, and everything inside me shifted.
Dark hair, almost black, caught the light of the sinking sun. Eyes just as dark, steady and unflinching, met mine.
His presence carried a strange calm that washed over the edges of my wolf’s aggression. Not the silence of fear or submission, but something steadier, deeper.
My wolf stilled in a way I’d never felt before, easing in my chest.
I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart gave one violent, startling thud, then sped up like it couldn’t decide whether to run or leap.
Not just anyone. A healer.
This man carried that rare, unmistakable energy. Healers had a kind of aura, a resonance that most wolves only felt once or twice in their lives.
Gentle, steady, powerful in a way that didn’t scream dominance, but balance. Healers weren’t strong or weak, they were something apart. Something packs needed to survive.
And God, he was gorgeous. Strong, clean lines to his face, a mouth that looked like it rarely smiled but would be devastating when it did.
He moved with quiet confidence, his dark eyes never wavering even though I was standing here radiating alpha intensity.
I’d been pushed, prodded, and flat-out pressured to take a mate ever since I became lead alpha. It was tradition, expectation, necessity. Whatever you wanted to call it.
Solidify the pack. Anchor its leadership. Plenty of wolves had been paraded in front of me, each of them handsome, capable, and desirable in their own right.
And not once had my wolf stirred. Not once had I felt more than the faintest flicker of interest…until now.
My wolf surged toward him like he was something inevitable, something we’d been waiting for without knowing it.
I clamped down hard on the reaction, fighting to keep my expression neutral even as my pulse hammered. Because recognition came with dread.
I knew who this was.
Devon. A healer of the Pecan Pines pack.
The pack I’d been carefully, painstakingly trying to build ties with since the regional pack summit. Cooper and I had finally moved past suspicion into something resembling cooperation. But now…
Oh, no. My gut turned to ice.
If Cooper realized his healer had been dragged into Thornebane territory by two of my juvenile wolves, there’d be hell to pay.
Packs went to war over healers. Wars that left bodies and ruins behind. History had plenty of bloody examples. I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to steady myself.