Chapter 8 - Arthur
Arthur heard about the party before he heard about his mate.
He was in the training yard behind the Nordan compound, breath steaming, sweat cooling on his back as he watched two young wolves spar on hard-packed snow.
Matthew dropped his opponent with a neat sweep. Arthur grunted approval.
“Again.”
The lad groaned but got back up. Chase snorted from where he leaned against the fence.
“You’re driving them into the ground,” his brother said. “Half the pack’s in The Anchor already, and you’ve got them practicing footwork.”
“Hybrids aren’t going to ask if we want a night off,” Arthur replied.
Footsteps crunched in the snow. A runner skidded to a halt at the edge of the yard, chest heaving. Volkhov scent clung to his clothes, overlaid with beer.
“Alpha,” he said, bowing his head. “Layla sent me.”
Arthur’s shoulders tightened. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. She just thought you’d want to know…everyone’s gathering at The Anchor. Volkhov, Severney, Juneau. Some of the witches.” He hesitated. “Your mate and the girl are there, too.”
Arthur’s pulse thudded once, hard.
Dani.
Aurelia.
In town. In a bar full of wolves and witches and Severney strangers. Without him.
A growl rumbled low in his chest before he could stop it.
Chase made a soft sound that might have been a laugh. “Well,” he said. “That didn’t take long.”
Arthur ignored him. “Who’s on watch?”
“Volkhov at the door, Nordan at the back. Layla and Dominic are both inside. Rory and Kiara, too.”
His mate. His daughter. In there.
Arthur’s wolf didn’t like it. Arthur didn’t like that the wolf wasn’t entirely wrong.
He clapped Matthew’s shoulder. “That’s enough for tonight. Rotate guard as planned. Chase—”
“Already on it,” Chase said. “I’ll tighten the patrols around The Anchor. Try not to start a fight in Dom’s bar, yeah?”
Arthur grunted something that might have been assent and headed for the gate.
He told himself he was going to make sure things stayed civil. Witches under his protection were in a crowded public place. This was about safety.
The fact that his mate hadn’t seen fit to tell him she was going out had nothing to do with it.
Nothing at all.
***
The Anchor was already in full swing when he reached it.
Lanterns spilled warm light onto the street. The smell hit him as he stepped inside—beer, frying, woodsmoke, the dense layering of wolf-scent. Under it, a thinner tang, witchcraft. The iron scent of vampires.
Volkhov and Nordan wolves crowded the tables. Severney wolves sat together near the back, laughing. Layla perched at the bar, one hand around a mug, the other on her belly. Dominic leaned behind her, listening to Rory with that thin, amused patience.
For a moment, Arthur saw his town like a stranger might. Cramped warmth, mismatched furniture, wolf hierarchy in every inch of space.
And somewhere in all this, the female who had once been his entire world.
His wolf surged, scenting the air. Dani, Dani—
He didn’t smell her. He smelled something else.
Apple shampoo and young fear held bravely in check.
“Excuse me,” a voice said, somewhere near his knees. “Are you Arthur?”
He looked down.
Aurelia stood there, chin up, hands jammed in the pockets of her borrowed coat. Up close, the resemblance hit harder. Dani’s mouth, Dani’s nose, but the eyes, bright and steady, were pure Nordan blue.
His blue.
“Aurelia,” he said, and his voice came out rougher than he’d intended.
She frowned. “You know my name.”
“Of course, I know your name,” he said. “What kind of…” he caught himself before he said father out loud. “What kind of Alpha would I be if I didn’t?”
Her mouth twitched, just a fraction. “The kind who didn’t say hello this morning,” she said.
That stung more than anything her mother had thrown at him.
“I was…busy,” he said. It sounded weak even to his own ears.
“So was Mom,” Aurelia said, unimpressed. “We went to the bookshop, and then we had to go to a meeting with High Sister Lavinia. But you still could have come and said hello.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “You’re right,” he said. “I should have come.”
Aurelia blinked. “So, um…what should I call you?”
“What?” he asked warily.
“Mom said to the other witches that they should call you and Alpha Dominic Alpha, but you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“My dad.”
The word hit like a punch. His wolf’s ears went flat, then pricked, confused and hopeful.
Arthur forced himself to breathe. “I’m—” He stopped. Tried again. “Aye, little wolf. I’m your dad.”
“I’m not a wolf,” she said, matter-of-fact, “I’m a witch. Nice to meet you.”
Despite himself, his mouth twitched. “Nice to meet you, too.”
They regarded each other for a beat. She didn’t fidget or look away. Her scent was threaded with shyness and a curl of anxiety, but underneath was something steadier.
Bravery. Or stubbornness. Hard to tell which.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked.
“Over there.” Aurelia jerked her chin toward the far end of the bar.
Arthur followed her gaze.
One of the central tables had become a small island of attention. A loose ring of wolves, Volkhov, Severney, and a couple of Nordans stood watching something with rapt focus.
Magic.
Arthur could feel it from here, a low fizz on his skin like the air before a storm.
He moved before he quite realized it, Aurelia falling into step beside him. The crowd parted automatically, habit bowing around the alpha weight.
Dani stood on one side of the table.
Black jeans, soft grey sweater, hair down around her shoulders in a wild mass that made his fingers itch. The mark on her neck was mostly hidden by her collar, but he could scent it, warm and faintly metallic, calling to his own.
Kiara stood next to her, sleeves rolled up, eyes bright, a playing card between two fingers.
There was a small pile of junk in the middle of the table: coins, bottlecaps, someone’s lighter.
Kiara flicked the card.
It dissolved into smoke halfway across.
Dani lifted her hand above the pile. The smoke twisted, then with a sharp little crack, the card reappeared under her fingers, whole and unburnt.
A few wolves laughed or clapped.
Arthur felt the punch of her voice before he registered the words.
“All right,” she said. “One more, then we stop before something important gets set on fire!”
Her hands were steady. Whatever had happened in Layla’s shop, she’d found enough confidence to play in a crowded bar. He should have been relieved.
Instead, his wolf paced, uneasy. She was using magic. In his town. In front of his wolves. And they were…entertained.
“Thanks for teaching me that trick,” said Dani with a worryingly cheeky grin. “Lavinia never lets us use magic for stuff like this.”
Kiara huffed in amusement. “Please, I was doing this as a kid. I’ll teach all your young witches to misbehave. High Sister Lavinia will just have to deal with it.”
Dani rolled her eyes and glanced up, and saw him.
Everything in her stilled. The humor drained from her face. The bond hummed, sharp and sudden in his chest, tugging him toward her.
Dani set the cards down. The crackle of gathered power faded.
“Show’s over,” someone muttered. “Alpha’s here.”
Wolves drifted away, grumbling. Kiara stayed where she was. Rory lingered nearby, gaze flicking between Arthur, Dani, and Aurelia like he was watching pieces on a board.
Arthur barely registered them. The world had narrowed to the witch in front of him and the girl at his side.
“You found us, then,” Dani said. Her tone was light. Her eyes weren’t.
“Aye, it’s hard to miss,” he said. “You left the compound without telling me.”
Her brows hitched. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to walk into town.”
“You’re Luna of the Nordan now,” he said. “There are expectations.”
“Right now I’m a witch in a bar,” she said. “At Layla’s invitation. With your daughter. Who, by the way, is also a witch. Not one of your soldiers.”
He was acutely aware of Aurelia at his elbow, listening. He’d intended to march in, find them both and haul them back somewhere he deemed safe. It sounded different out loud.
“I came to make sure you were all right,” he said stiffly.
“By ruining my evening?” she asked.
“By making sure you weren’t about to blow the back wall off The Anchor,” he snapped, before he could reel it in.
Kiara’s brows rose. Layla, at the bar, went very still.
Dani’s face cooled. “And there it is,” she said softly. “I was wondering how long it would take.”
“How long what would take?”
“For you to stop pretending this is about me,” she said. “And admit it’s about my magic.”
Heat flared in his chest, a tangle of shame and defensiveness. “I saw what happened at the border,” he said. “And I heard about the bookshop. Forgive me if I’m not ecstatic about you practicing in the middle of my pack.”
“Your pack,” she echoed. “Not ours.”
He flinched.
Aurelia edged closer to her, fingers brushing Dani’s hand. Dani caught them automatically.
“You were throwing sparks in a bar full of wolves,” he said, forcing his voice level. “I’m allowed to be concerned.”
“You say concerned,” Dani said, “I hear terrified. Of me. Of what I am.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he said.
“No,” she replied. “You’re afraid of what you think I represent.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“This is who I am now, Arthur,” she went on. “Witch. Mother. Mate, apparently. All of that comes with me. I’m not going to apologize for it. And I’m not going to pretend to be less for your comfort.”
She’d been shy once, younger than this, desperate for the pack’s approval. Now she stood in the center of the bar, ash-smudged and steady.
Part of him admired it. Part of him wanted to shake her.
“You could be more careful,” he said, aiming for compromise. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Careful is what kept me alive this long,” she said. “I know how to handle my magic. I know my limits.”
“Do you?” he shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like the bond’s changed things. Amplified them.”
For a heartbeat, surprise cracked through her annoyance. “You felt that?”