Zayne
“There’s something wrong with this pack, Alpha.”
I turned to Jacob, my beta. His eyes were narrowed as he watched the wolves of the Ridge pack with open suspicion.
“My wolf is restless. It doesn’t like it here.”
I nodded but didn’t comment. I’d felt the same wrongness the moment I stepped out of the car, a greasy film of disharmony that coated the air.
But we needed this trade route open, not just for my pack, but for all the packs west of the ridge.
“As soon as we secure the route, Jake, we’ll have access to the eastern packs,” I said, making my way toward the small cabin assigned to us.
He scowled but didn’t protest further. He knew the stakes.
If we couldn’t secure trade rights, we would be forced to take the territory by force or watch our pack slowly fade. That was not an outcome I would allow.
We entered the cabin to find Soren passed out on the bearskin rug. Jacob groaned and kicked his brother’s leg.
“Up, you useless whelp.” Soren groaned, a theatrical sound of mock pain. “Have mercy, brother. I’ve been laid low by a devastating illness.”
“Is that what we’re calling a hangover now?” Jacob crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Pathetic.”
“Hey, I was gathering intelligence,” Soren said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He winked. “People talk more when they drink. That’s why I keep the drinks flowing and the good times rolling.” Jacob went to cuff him, but Soren ducked, laughing.
“Did you discern anything useful during your ‘misadventures’?” I asked, cutting through their antics.
“Of course,” Soren said, his smile smug. “I am the best, after all.” Jacob glared, but I simply waited. I was well acquainted with Soren’s ego.
“Their Alpha is a brute,” Soren said, his tone sobering as he scrubbed a hand over his face. I poured a glass of water and handed it to him.
“He rules with fear and force,” Soren continued. “You wouldn’t believe the stories his men told.” I leaned against the rough-hewn wall of the cabin, my arms crossed.
“They say he keeps a wolfless shifter as a pet.” I straightened, my gaze snapping to his. Jacob’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What?” I asked, my voice low. Soren nodded, taking a long drink of water.
“I didn’t believe it either, but I saw her myself. A pathetic little thing. Looked like a strong breeze would snap her in two.”
I narrowed my eyes, disturbed. A wolfless shifter was a tragedy, a deep flaw in the natural order.
To keep one as a pet… as a trophy… was a perversion of our laws. It was cruel.
“If it’s true, I feel for the girl,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “A man who owns a woman should treasure her, not break her.” He was right. I remained silent, my mind turning over the implications. The very idea made my stomach churn.
“Anything else?” I asked, my voice tight with a rage I struggled to suppress. Soren shrugged.
“Nothing of note. Marcus is the greedy, primitive oaf you guessed he was.” I nodded. I’d expected nothing less, but confirmation was power. The council of Alphas had sent me to secure this alliance. We needed open trade or we would stagnate. Dealing with Marcus was a necessary evil.
“You did well, Soren.” I walked to the window, gazing out at the clearing.
A strange tingling ran up the back of my neck, raising the hair on my arms.
There was more to this place than Marcus’s unpleasantness.
It was a persistent, low-level hum, a dissonance just beneath the surface that I couldn’t place.
I forced the feeling down as we made our way to the dining hall. The noise of the Ridge pack hit us like a physical wall. My eyes scanned the room and found Marcus immediately, seated at a long table on a raised dais, stuffing his face with a greed that was almost feral.
He stood and waved us over. I carefully schooled my expression, ensuring none of my disgust showed. I approached him, plastering a diplomatic smile on my face.
And then I caught her scent. It hit me like a physical blow—a soft, clean scent like roses after a spring rain. My steps faltered. My eyes landed on her, kneeling on the floor at his feet, her head bowed, a dark curtain of hair hiding her face.
MATE.
My wolf howled the word inside me, clawing at my skin, screaming to be free to rip Marcus’s throat out for daring to touch what was ours.
I staggered, a barely perceptible misstep, and Marcus shot me a confused look.
I took a sharp breath, my mind racing. This had to be the wolfless shifter Soren mentioned.
It explained her position, but I didn’t have to like it.
It didn’t matter. My wolf had claimed her. The heat would start soon. I had to get her away from Marcus before it did.
I glanced at Jacob, then back at the girl. He gave a single, sharp nod. He’d been my beta long enough to know what that look meant.
“Marcus,” I greeted him, taking the seat beside him and strategically placing the girl between us.
Her head snapped up as I settled, and for a breathtaking moment, our eyes met.
Not losing myself in the sapphire depths of her eyes was the hardest thing I have ever done, but somehow, I managed to wrench my gaze away and back to Marcus.
He smirked and cuffed the girl on the shoulder.
“Lysaria, pour our guest some ale.” She rose, moving with a practiced grace to the serving tables. She returned with a pitcher, her steps silent. It took everything I had to keep my wolf leashed, but my own rage was a roaring fire, quickly matching his.
Lysaria filled both cups, then knelt again, her movements fluid and submissive. My rage bloomed into a cold, hard fury.
“She’s something,” I forced myself to say, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Where did you get her? I’d consider a bargain if you’re open to selling.”
Marcus laughed, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Perhaps,” he said, reaching down to stroke her hair possessively. I had to fight the urge to break his arm. “That depends on what you’re willing to part with.”
I leaned back, projecting a nonchalance I didn’t feel. I had him. It was only a matter of finding the price he couldn’t refuse.
The negotiation took longer than I anticipated. Marcus was greedy, but not entirely stupid. In the end, he relented, selling her to me for a small fortune. Throughout it all, I was aware of her heart hammering in her chest, a frantic, wild beat, but her face remained a perfect, blank mask.
We concluded our business as the meal ended, shaking on the agreement. I nodded to Jacob to handle the payment. Then I reached down, my touch gentle, and took Lysaria’s arm, pulling her to her feet. I led her out of the hall and away from the only life she had ever known.