Chapter 3
Nix
Ihated politics. There were far better—and far more enjoyable—things I could be focusing on.
My evening had been totally taken up by dinner with Dillon, the Alpha of West Lake. We had a few trade agreements and old marriage ties between our hordes, so we visited frequently to avoid the friendship going sour. Couldn’t have that, now, could we?
Still, it wasn’t Dillon’s fault that our horde had been slowly falling apart for six years. No matter what we did, my brothers and I just… Well, we didn’t have that same spark of life anymore.
It had died with our mate.
And yes, technically, we weren’t actually brothers. We were horde mates, but when we all learned that we shared a fated mate, that solidified us as an Alpha clan, as brothers, despite lacking the matching DNA. We would all lead the horde—together.
And damn, it had been good too.
Only, our time was cut short when our Emmeline had vanished without a trace, taking away everything that was good in this world, all the sunshine and smiles.
Caring for her, being a brother with the others, had been my entire purpose, and I wasn’t too big a person to admit that I’d been lost since then. Hell, we all had.
Ever since, we had coasted by. We took control of the horde as a group because it felt wrong not to, but our hearts weren’t in it. I was trying. Genuinely. But even now, six years later, we struggled.
Worse, I knew our horde was suffering because of it, and I hated that. Taking care of people was my thing. Making sure everyone was happy and knew I cared? That was a fundamental part of my personality, and watching them be miserable was torture.
I’d kill to just have fun with my horde again.
By the time dinner was finished, and I was able to pull myself away from the festivities—those rare moments when I could sneak in a bit of fun—and return to my room, it was already late.
All of Dillon’s enforcers had joined us too.
We were staying with a horde nearby, talking about land disputes.
Utterly boring. Thankfully, we had a good relationship with them, so most of the discussions consisted of heavy drinking and a lot of good food. And that I could get down with.
During the meal, Orsen had texted Griffin, asking for an update on the horde. He was an enforcer who lived in the den, and was the most reliable at messaging back. I kept an eye on it, wanting to make sure they were all good to go, just as much as Orsen.
“God damned politics,” Orsen sighed, throwing his pillow across the room before sitting down on the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s part of the job,” I shrugged, grabbing the discarded cushion.
“I know. I just want to get home,” he said, his usually hard expression giving way to vulnerability for a moment.
“Just another day or two, then we can get back. It’ll be over before you know it,” I smiled, trying to remain positive. Being away from our horde wasn’t pleasant, no Alpha particularly liked leaving their lands.
I had already been pretty attached to the North Oak Horde myself before, so when I became an Alpha that sensation only intensified.
Despite the late hour, his phone started to ring. A swift check of the screen told us it was Griffin calling. He was dealing with the healer who had come to see Rory, so Orsen was quick to answer.
My chest tightened slightly at the thought of Rory. Poor kid.
For some unknown reason, my horde was failing.
People were getting ill way more than they should and not healing afterward.
Our birth rate was in the toilet, and we were generally miserable and sickly.
We’d been a strong, proud horde, once upon a time.
One of the most powerful in the world, and now…
Well, we’d been reduced to a fucking footnote.
The horde deserved better than four Alphas who’d utterly checked out of life. Unfortunately, we were all they had, and it was going to take a lot more than some cordial drinking with our neighbors to put things right. The buzzkill continues.
“Orsen,” he answered gruffly, putting the phone on speaker so we could both listen in.
“Hey. How’s everything going with Dillon? Is he being friendly?” Griffin asked.
“As good as can be. I think he can tell our horde isn’t as strong as it once was. I’ll be back tomorrow evening. Did your friend get in okay?”
Maybe that was saying too much, but Griffin was an enforcer, and we trusted him implicitly. He was our closest friend, after our clanmates of course.
“Yeah, she’s here. Sleeping at the moment, but first thing in the morning, she’s going to see Rory and anyone else in the horde who wants a second opinion.”
I raised my brows, ducking my chin toward the floor. “Oof. Jenkins is not going to like that.”
Orsen sighed, holding the phone between us, looking intently at the screen like he could glean more information from it despite being unable to see Griffin.
Our healer was what you might call stubborn. So, we’d been reluctant to let Griffin call his friend to help Rory because we needed Jenkins around. Healers were hard to come by these days, and we desperately needed one, what with the sorry state of things.
If this traveling healer offended Jenkins—which could be as simple as suggesting something different—and he decided to take up an offer with another horde, we were screwed.
Hopefully, Griff’s friend could figure out that tiptoeing around the guy was the best move.
I mean, sure, we could kick ’em out, but there was Rory to think about.
When it came down to it, he had to come first.
We were already doing everything in our power to keep Jenkins with us. It was no secret he’d received other offers and had been tempted to take them more than a few times.
“He won’t, but the old bastard needs to behave,” Griffin grumbled.
“If he gets too pissed off, he’ll leave, and then we won’t have a healer,” Orsen reminded Griffin.
“He’s blowing smoke up your ass—he’ll never leave. You guys pay him way too much for that. And fuck him. Rowan is ten times the healer he is. If I thought I could convince her to stay, I would. We'd all be way better off with her rather than that old fart.”
Still, there was no question of whether his friend could heal.
When he’d been exploring the local territories and visiting hordes, Griff had accidentally gotten involved in a nasty clan dispute.
Another dragon had challenged him, and, being Griffin, he’d accepted.
What he didn't know was that the dragon he was fighting was a dirty cheat and had zero morals.
Instead of it being one-on-one, it was a group that rolled up on him, looking to kill.
He’d managed to take down a good number of them, but not without getting his ass seriously kicked. I’d seen the scars myself. The fact that he had survived was a goddamn miracle.
When he’d come home, Griff had told us of a small human healer he’d met a few weeks before his injury, who’d worked night and day to make sure he lived. We’d all been amazed by the story—especially when we saw the scars.
Now, with no indication that Rory was getting better, the guy had begged us to allow Rowan onto our lands to work her magic.
“Why wouldn’t she stay? If she’s better than Jenkins, we would happily offer her all the money she could ever want. You know that. Hell, we’d pay whatever it takes to get the horde healthy,” I said.
It’d been years since we'd had a healthy birth, and considering we were the largest in the area, that was damn frightening.
I wanted my horde happy, healthy, and living it up.
“She’s been through some shit in the past and always moves around. I’ve tried to convince her, but she’s pretty dead set on the nomad life.” Griffin sighed. “She never stays in one place longer than a few months.”
Orsen bobbed his head, his eyes narrowing. “Shame. Then again, she’s a human. If you didn’t vouch for her, I would be unsure. Update me tomorrow after she sees Rory?”
“Yes, Alpha.” He hung up, neither of them fans of long-winded goodbyes.
I was just thankful that Rory was getting the help he needed. We Alphas were going to have our work cut out for us when it came to smoothing things over with Jenkins. But whatever. If the kid was healthy, we’d do it. I’d gladly step up and tell the bastard right to his face.
Happy horde. That was my main goal. We all deserved some carefree living at this point, and while I wasn’t sure if being “content” was really in the cards for my pack after our mate’s death, I was going to get us as close as possible.