Chapter 4 - Tyler
I card my fingers through the sleek black locks of dark hair, feeling relief washing over me as my inner wolf recognizes its mate.
My true mate, whose lips I just kissed, the tingling of the aftermath lingering and spreading through my body.
I pull back to stare into her hazel eyes, noticing the glow of green specks that aren't noticeable from afar. I've never met eyes that are so captivating, so pretty, so warm that I feel the weight of my world slowly releasing the shackles it has on my existence.
It's almost freeing, liberating, and it's probably why I needed to follow her when I noticed she was leaving the party.
“Tyler…” she whispers my name, not in resistance, but in recognition of what I can feel deep down. That's when I push her against the wall and crush my lips to hers once more, desperately, greedily wanting to taste more of her sweet essence.
The farewell party my parents are throwing for me before I leave for black ops can wait. What I need right now is to immerse myself in this she-wolf's addictive taste, and how my heartbeat seems to sync with hers.
Who would have thought that I'd recognize my true mate the moment our lips met? It must be twisted fate that it's on the night before I leave.
I must be mad for letting my hand slip beneath her skirt as I kiss her, but I'm too drunk on the taste of her lips to care that I might do something I'll regret. I swore to myself that I'd never take a mate, but this is different. This feels right.
And I must have her.
I pull away again, but it's only to pepper her collarbones with more selfish, open-mouthed kisses that allow me to taste the sweetness of her honey-golden flesh as I sink to my knees, my head disappearing under her skirt as I drink in the scent of her arousal as if it's my sustenance.
“Tyler…” she moans as I place a kiss on her wet folds. “Tyler…”
“Tyler!”
Groaning in disappointment when my mate's voice becomes my father's as he knocks on my door, I open my eyes and quickly sit upright, wiping sweaty palms across my face.
After the way I stormed out last night, I didn't expect my father to be the one waking me up. I thought they'd get the message that I was still firm in my decision not to take a mate, and since I'm the alpha now, I think I have the right to decide what's best for me.
“I'm awake,” I croak out groggily as I reluctantly climb out of bed and head to the door. Father greets me with a warm smile that bears no traces of anger, apparently unbothered by my antics.
“Good morning, son,” he greets me with a gentle pat on my shoulder. “Your mother sent over pancakes this morning. I thought we could have a chat. Just the two of us.”
My eyes squint at him suspiciously. I know exactly where this is going, but I only entertain him to make up for the way I stormed out last night.
“Okay, Dad,” I relent with a sigh as I follow him down the corridor to the dining room. It's almost as if he's trying to make up for how he badgered me last night, with the cutlery set up so perfectly.
We take our seats, and I stack my plate with pancakes, basking in the little pleasure that reminds me of my childhood when I wasn't alone.
When I wasn't the only child, I had someone to look up to.
“You're thinking about him, aren't you?” Father sighs as he picks up another pancake and lays it on his plate. “Tyson, I mean.”
My fingers freeze around my fork, and I look up slowly.
“Father, I—”
“You don't have to hide it, Tyler,” Father assures me with a half-smile. “I often think about your brother, too. There's no shame in it.”
I gulp hard, bashfully keeping my eyes lowered.
The real shame comes from having to fill the shoes of an older brother who died while he was on his black ops missions.
Ever since I returned unscathed, I'd been plummeting into the role of alpha that Tyson would have filled if he survived out there.
Coming home was a reminder that bearing the weight he left behind would be overwhelming, and I've been hanging on by a thread trying to keep my head above the water.
Taking a deep breath, I bite into my first pancake, chewing loudly enough to let my father know that this is a conversation I don't want to have. It's enough that I've been so busy these past few months; I don't need another burden on my plate.
Father clears his throat and returns to his meal. “I've set up a meeting with the alpha of Bloodclaw. They're about to go through their trials to determine who the next alpha will be, and he'd like you to attend the meeting before the trials begin.”
I nod thoughtfully as I gulp. We're back to talking business, and while I would rather have a moment of peace, I'm just glad we're not talking about Tyson anymore.
“One of the participants in the trials is a friend of mine,” I inform my father. “Hunter, from black ops. He stands a good chance of winning.”
“Which is why I've secured an alliance with Bloodclaw. They're a strong pack, even if the alpha didn't have a son to take over.”
“It's a good thing I'm going to this meeting, then. I'll get some pointers about the trials. It will come in handy when it's time for me to choose a successor.”
Father places his fork down with a deliberate clink. “So does that mean you won't have a son of your own? An heir to take over as alpha when you retire?”
I sigh heavily and look up. “I told you already, Father, I won't be taking a mate. I won't have a son, either. We'll have to—”
Father cuts me off by slamming a palm on the table. “No, Tyler!” The council will not—”
Feeling rage bubbling deep within, I rise from my seat and glare at my father. “I do not care what the council thinks. I am the alpha of this pack, and what I say goes.”
Father sighs defeatedly and lowers his head. “It's not that simple, Tyler. The Moonshine Pack has been run this way for decades. We cannot simply change the rules. If Tyson—”
“Yeah, I know,” I abruptly cut my father off. “If Tyson were still alive, you wouldn't have to tell him twice. But he's not alive anymore, and that's why the only thing I care about is protecting our pack so that no one else dies.”
“That's not what I was going to say…” Father mumbles, staring blankly ahead, but I'm too infuriated to care.
“Well, I'm pretty sure you were gonna say how Tyson would have made you prouder, right? He'd have followed all the rules, right?” I scoff, throwing my hands up in defeat. “But the mate bond isn't just something to follow to appease the council. It's my personal life, and I refuse it.”
With that, I spin on my heel and march out of my house, basking in the coolness of the outside air only momentarily. My relief is short-lived when my beta reminds me of yet another meeting, and my fists curl at my sides as I'm hauled back into my duties without rest.
***
Dragging my feet back home, my shoulders are slumped over, my head hanging with exhaustion. I can't seem to catch a break, just as much as I can't seem to avoid my father's insistence that I take a mate.
It's an ancient ruling in the Moonshine Pack that no alpha should be left unmated, to ensure that an heir is born to take the mantle. For my father, that was supposed to be Tyson, until he was killed.
As if to remind me of the grief that I'd been pushing aside, I pass by the graveyard where my brother's body lies. With a grievous sigh, I trudge ahead until I find myself standing in front of my older brother's tombstone.
Tyson Whitlock.
A name I can barely speak without a lump forming in my throat. Even now, as I read his name carved in stone, the weight of his death five years ago brings me to my knees, collapsing forward as I grab the tombstone to steady myself.
“Why did you leave me with this burden?” I choke as I lift my face, my eyes meeting his name as if it will respond to me. When his squad carried his lifeless body back to Portland, I held back the tears that sprang to the surface now, knowing back then that I'd have to step up and take his place.
I had no idea that it would be so burdensome, such a heavy weight to carry, not just the alpha title, but stepping in as the perfect son to make our parents proud, to make up for what they lost.
Their eldest son.
His death was the only reason I could never see myself mated, even though I was shown my true mate. I know her disappearance is because of the way I treated her after that night outside the party, but I just couldn't accept it.
It was something she recognized, too, and when she asked what would happen after I took her virginity, I coldly reminded her that I was leaving to join black ops, and that when I got back, I had no intention of taking a mate.
My determination to keep my pack safe led me to that decision.
How could I take a mate, or bring children into this world, when I know it isn't safe?
My brother met his demise out there, and I witnessed what horrors lie out there myself.
I could never live with myself if I took on a mate and put her life in danger, if I failed to protect her.
It would hurt too much.
As much as it hurts knowing your true mate is out there, unprotected?
I gasp when my inner wolf mentally questions me, its voice as sharp as if the words were spoken from Tyson's grave. Frowning, I trace his name with my thumb, wondering if I'm sleep-deprived enough to hallucinate when I see my brother's face with my mental eye.
His crystalline blue eyes stare at me with warmth I've been missing in these past five years.
I'd briefly glimpsed something like it on that night of my farewell party, behind the pack den where I'd stopped the she-wolf I'd been drawn to.
But in a flicker of recollection and realization that I couldn't risk another life, I'd rejected my true mate and lost the warmth I desperately needed.
My brother's death was unexpected, but seeing an apparition of him now through my imagination is even more unexpected when he nods toward the forest and then disappears.
Still frowning, I get to my feet and dust off my knees where they'd been soiled, staring ahead into the unknown darkness shrouding the forest.
My heartstrings are tugged, a silent melody pulling me forward until I'm out of the graveyard, shifting into wolf form with a sudden pang gripping my stomach. Perhaps it's hunger that causes the stir, and it reminds me that I haven't hunted for fresh meat in over a week.
But it's more than hunger that grips me, a gaping hole forming in my heart as if the tightness just released and made it possible for me to see further than my wolf eyes.
In that void, I see the man I used to be, and with every forward step as I go deeper into the forest, it's guilt I feel for the way I treated the she-wolf who emerged as my true mate.
Though it's a rare occurrence, I'm sure it's my wolf who recognized her. Now that she's gone, it makes the task of never taking a mate easier, because I'm not sure if my wolf would have been strong enough to stay away.
I'd acted like a complete imbecile, spewing cruel words that night. I'd wronged the only one whose eyes I felt comfort in, whose kiss brought me ease, whose magnetic touch made me feel invincible.
Now that she's no longer in Portland, I should be grateful that I don't have the distraction, even if I spent four years in black ops wishing I hadn’t been so cruel to her.
She didn't deserve it, but it was the only way I knew how to reject the true mate bond that threatened to turn my world upside down.
It's not like my parents or the council would ever have accepted her, but even if they had, I wouldn't have risked putting her in danger. Being mated to an alpha is a death sentence.
I did it for her own good. I did it to protect her.
My paw crushes a twig, the crack suddenly snapping my eyes up just as a figure appears ahead of me, and my wolf heart stops.
I narrow my eyes, trying to make out who the female silhouette belongs to, when my inner wolf purrs a name that has my heart swelling, filling that empty space with something that feels like hope.
Could it be possible?
Is that Arianna Hart?