Chapter 4
I'm not looking forward to this.
A sense of foreboding hangs heavy in the evening air. Like the clam before the storm, something is amiss and everyone knows it.
The alpha has set the meeting for six o'clock. I want a relaxing Friday evening. To kick back and relax, watch a movie or two, hang out with my friends, maybe attend that party one of the popular people at school are throwing.
But Jace would be there, and the meeting could not have come at a better time. With our bond manifested, I would be compelled to want to be near him and it's expected that Sasha would be at the party too. Attending means putting up with the pain of betrayal seeing them together as a couple.
I hope that the meeting doesn't run late. At least that way, if Jace becomes intimate with Sasha, I can lock myself in my bedroom and wallow in misery and agony.
"They're here," Dad grits out.
Tensions are running high. I could feel it coating the air like a thick balm.
Neither Dad nor I are keen on the meeting because we have a deep personal feud with Lativa's former alpha and we hardly know much about the new one.
For all that we are aware, Ezra Atkinson's request to negotiate truce terms could be a fa?ade.
As the head of pack security, Dad typically escorts guests from the main gates to the meeting hall.
If we're venturing into another pack's territory usually on invite, the gamma strategizes safety protocols to protect the alpha.
But given the sour history between Dad and Lativa's former alpha, Alpha Isaiah ordered Beta Chad to escort our guests.
Better too because Dad is seething. He's no better than a caged animal growing agitated and apathetic with each passing second, quietly observing his surroundings, strategizing, before attacking.
Jessop Atkinson is as psychotic as he is unpredictable and neither Dad nor I trust the man. None of the heads do. But they hold their tongues for the sake of keeping peace.
And yet, they're about to put Dad and Jessop in the same room. It'll be the equivalent to a ticking time bomb.
The members of the four prominent families and a few warriors are gathered outside the conference hall located at the heart of the pack. Headlights flash around the corner as Beta Chad's vehicle cruises into view. Two SUVs, black and polished to perfection follow closely.
Beta Chad and Carter step out of the first vehicle as me and Dad go to stand with the others. All the pack heads and their successors are present. So Dale and Asher are here. Jessica – Dale's sister – is also in attendance of the meeting, alongside her mother.
It is the norm that the luna attend, and in the case of the alpha family, both children must show.
It's another custom that all children of the higher up ranks be trained and taught as if they would succeed their parents.
If the eldest is to perish, is unable to perform their duties, or be mated into another pack – the latter more common with daughters – the next child advances to the role of successor.
In Marcana, the women of the high ranked families are not expected to exceed their required responsibilities.
Their main duty is to raise the upcoming generation of leaders.
Though tasked with the most crucial job in the pack, they are still expected to understand the ins and outs of the duties of their spouses.
She should be prepared to take his place at any given time.
Jessica is the firstborn, but Dale has been named the next alpha because Jessica has always been vocal about moving in with her mate when she finds him.
It's a decision designed to cater to the possibility that her mate be from another pack.
Otherwise, she would be next line for succession to the alpha rank.
And speculations hold that she'd be great at it.
"Are you going to be alright?" Carter asks from next to me, his voice hardly above a whisper.
"I'm okay. It's him I'm worried about. He doesn't look too good."
Dad is barricaded between the alpha, the luna, and the pack's commander, much like a rabid animal. Alpha Isaiah has a hand on his shoulder while speaking to him, and for once, I don't need to eavesdrop. I know what he's saying.
He lectured us on the importance of maintaining control, practicing restraint, and being the bigger person bearing in mind that we hail from an influential pack and thus, need to be the example.
This is a meeting of truce. Not war.
The doors to the SUVs open and Dad turns tail. He disappears inside the conference hall, unprepared to confront his demons.
From the first vehicle, it's four men who step out.
Jessop Atkinson is an old man in his sixties with a head full of grey and a matching dusting of facial hair, a face set in stone, and a stare so sharp it could cut concrete. Tall and intimidating to most, he frightened me years ago.
I'm no longer that weak, little five-year-old child who once trembled in fear, brought to tears – nearing a mental breakdown – in his presence. At seventeen, I stand proudly at six foot and six inches. I tower over Jessop's frame that is beginning to shrink with age.
To anyone else, Jessop packs a powerful image of a brute. He was built like a war machine and was absolutely ruthless in his prime – so the horror stories say. That power still radiates off of him.
Next, is the man of the hour. Ezra Atkinson. The new alpha of Lativa looks nothing like the senior who graduated high school three years ago.
At the beginning of my freshman year, I had a one-on-one collision with Ezra in the hallways.
I had been nervous. Young and impressionable, high school was like stepping into a completely different world.
I was preoccupied navigating the hallways to the administrative office to collect my textbooks while waiting for my friends to arrive.
Back then, I was shorter, so he towered over me.
Tall, dark, menacing grey eyes that seemed to decimate my fourteen-year-old soul, piercings, and decked out all in black like a ninja assassin, it's a memory I would not forget, left mildly traumatized by the glare Ezra had given me.
It had been all the proof I needed to believe many of the rumors about him.
Fourteen-year-old me did not want to die at the hands of Ezra Atkinson.
The Ezra of present looks like a different person.
He still favors dark clothing but is dressed smartly in a black silk shirt tucked into dark pants and a navy-blue blazer.
Gone are the piercings but the tattoos remain.
In fact, there are more, and they cover his exposed forearms. He looks mature and the no-bullshit type.
It's in the way he walks, and in the way he carries himself. It's in the way the others respond to him that speaks volumes of his maturity and influence over them.
He is respected by his in-commands.
I won't be quick to jump to conclusions. Buying this persona is stupidity and it invites trouble. I'll remain vigilant until Ezra proves himself a changed person and someone worth trusting.
Two more men step out of the first SUV. They are closer in age to Ezra and respond to him with greater respect. They are the in-commands of the pack directly under him.
From the second vehicle, three men step out. One is another of Ezra's in-commands. The final two are older, and the former in-commands under Jessop's rule: respectively, the former beta – Brendan Cruise, and the former commander – Grant Wright.
I hold my head higher, squaring my shoulders.
I meet Jessop's gaze without flinching, face void of emotion.
My intention is to show the former alpha that his presence does not faze me like it had on that forsaken night twelve years ago.
Jessop holds my gaze, an acknowledgement of the harmless challenge and when I raise an eyebrow, he turns away in mild annoyance.
It's better that Dad went on ahead to the conference hall. He would have reacted bearing witness to the wordless communication. Dad would perceive it as a direct threat.
And then, to hell with a peaceful alliance.
"Ezra," Alpha Isaiah greets stiffly as the younger alpha approaches.
Ezra's men follow, assessing the two warriors under Commander Rick's order. They flank Alpha Isaiah's side, keeping careful watch of every visitor from Lativa. They carry weapons – a taser and a Glock – which are standard issue for every warrior assigned to security details.
They won't attack. The warriors are here as a precaution and Marcana won't attack unless we're threatened.
"Stand down," Ezra tells his entourage and immediately, they submit.
The current leaders of the pack under his command, that is.
The former commander of Lativa bears an air of nonchalance, staying close to one of Ezra's in-commands who bears a striking resemblance to him, hands folded behind his back.
The former beta carries an air of arrogance and belittlement that matches Jessop's.
Ezra makes a clicking sound in his throat, frustrated, but he chooses not to address the blatant disrespect.
"Alpha Isaiah. Thank you for hosting us. Allow me to introduce my in-commands. My beta, and second-in-command, Franklyn Doyle." He gestures to one of the men closer to his age.
Franklyn is a tall, lanky man with jet black hair pulled back into a ponytail.
He has a scruff goatee beard and piercing blue eyes.
His general appearance does not command the respect and attention that someone like Carter does.
At first glance he doesn't look like he holds a candle to Carter's influential stature, but appearances can be deceiving.
Franklyn greets our alpha respectfully, speaking with an assuredness that signifies his worth to his pack.
"My gamma," Ezra continues, "and head of pack security, Gavin O'Malley.
" A ginger with brown eyes whom I notice is sizing me up.
I take mild offense to the attitude because Gavin's appearance is as if he hit a growth spurt, but his body hasn't quite caught up.
He is at least three inches shorter than me.
His complexion is an odd contrast to his bright ginger hair, a sure result of hours training in the sun though his muscle mass doesn't suggest it.
In comparison, I'm packing twice as much muscle, but I would not underestimate Gavin O'Malley.
Size doesn't make the soldier. It's strategy, expertise, and mindset.
"And my fourth-in-command, and commander of Lativa's military unit, Caleb Wright."
Caleb Wright has the looks, the walk, and the demeanor expected of his rank.
He is as smartly dressed as the others and speaks with as much clarity.
He's slightly shorter than me with broad shoulders and a muscular build but his expression stays mainly stoic.
He looks like the intimidating sort with an extremely proud papa lingering only a step behind.
Grant Wright isn't hiding the fact that he's proud of his son.
He reminds me of my own father.
Caleb greets the heads of Marcana and moves on to greet the successors with firm handshakes, pausing to chat with Asher.
"Asher Stone. I've heard a lot about you."
"You have?" Ash squawks.
Caleb chuckles, taking Ash's confusion into stride. They shake hands in respect for the other's rank.
"It's not every day a kid with colorful vocabulary and a short fuse is named successor to a prominent rank."
"Oh!" Asher's face flushes with mild embarrassment. He has a reputation for being unfiltered. Asher Stone doesn't sugarcoat his words, and he's hot-headed, short-tempered, in the face of blatant stupidity. "Thanks, I guess."
Alpha Isaiah brings an end to introductions, herding us inside to start talks for grounds on maintaining a peace treaty. The alpha and his family lead the way to the conference room.
I linger behind to keep Jessop Atkinson within my range of sight.
It disturbs my soul that he's allowed to roam free when there is enough evidence for a life term.
I'm convinced corrupted and underhanded methods were executed at some point because with all the evidence stacked against him, he should not have been made eligible for parole eight years after the sentence and bailed out two years later.
Parole shouldn't have been considered.
He should have been executed. But one day, he was out of prison, and less than one week later, the judge presiding over his case fled town and his lawyer went missing.
Jessop's execution would have brought us peace. But it seems like that's not in the books for us.
The conference room is spacious with a large redwood table at the center of it, large enough to hold twenty people. To the front is a large projection screen. The walls are made of matching redwood panels that amplify and boast a wealthy status, the panels varnished to a shine.
Meetings between pack heads and with other packs are held here. It's also where briefings in times of attacks or ongoing disputes – that could potentially lead to a war – take place.
I sit between Carter and Dale. They've taken note of my volatile silence and put precautions in place, so no problems arise.
Such as me suddenly lunging for Jessop's throat which they know is a possibility if the perpetual glare roosting on my face is any consolation. They flit their gazes to me a few minutes at a time, mindful of my every reaction, no matter how miniscule, to Jessop literally breathing.
The current leaders take on a similar arrangement with the alpha and beta on either side of my Dad.
Commander Rick remains standing, leaning against the wall behind my father.
If something happens to provoke him into attacking – tensions are running higher in Jessop's presence – all three would band together to hold him back.
Beta Chad plays the role of spokesperson as the meeting commences.
An esteemed member of the Council, no one is better suited to maintaining order in a room brimming with suffocating pressure.
Though Dad is also a Council member and has established a concrete reputation with a notable history of his work, the fragility of our current circumstance favors a neutral face.
Alpha Isaiah sits at the head of the table listening and weighing the reactions of each person.
The heads had a private assembly ahead of time to discuss strategies on how to keep control over the meeting.
The pre-meet itself is a strategy to make sure Lativa agrees to the stipulations and regulations set down by Marcana and the Council.
The meeting is open to grounds for negotiation, but they've strategized every which way to ensure Lativa upholds the oath of preserving peace between the residing packs in town.
It's so that this truce doesn't disrupt the delicate balance or threaten the lives of human civilians or the rogue population.
"The Council has been monitoring your work since you've been alpha.
It's worth commending all you've done to get Lativa back into the good graces of the Council, Marcana, and Crescent Hill but you still have not done enough.
It is, luckily, substantial reason to believe your intent is genuine.
The Council has agreed that you'll be placed on probation.
You and Lativa with be monitored for all your movements, businesses, and projects, inside and outside of the town.
" Beta Chad is clear-cut and authoritative in his speech and it's not difficult to see why he's respected.
"How long is the probationary period?" Ezra queries.
"You only need to know that Lativa will be held under scrutiny and closely monitored."
The meeting drags on, stretching over an hour as the adults drone on about stipulations and regulations. There are a few minor negotiations to amend some of the terms set down.
Boredom grips me. While they discuss legalities and politics, I listen with one ear, preoccupied on social media.
My family name allows me certain perks like a large online following because while my demeanor frightens people, I'm like the thing they can't touch but crave.
I'm strategic about who I follow back as it keeps me in the loop of current happenings without having to speak with many people outside of my immediate circle.
The party tonight is hosted by a girl named Katy Durnst. She's Brent Harper's girlfriend – on again, off again – and my Instagram feed is flooded with videos and photos from the party. A few of the photos are of my mate and his pretty little model girlfriend.
They aren't doing anything wrong, but it still feels like the ultimate betrayal.
In one photo, Jace has his arm resting on her lower back. They both hold plastic cups and are looking directly at the camera. Aesthetically, they're perfect together. That typical golden couple of high school. The couple that everyone wants to be.
They're matching, too.
She's wearing a figure-hugging dark blue dress that stops on her thighs, blue highlights in her hair. She looks like a model, perfect next to Jace who's wearing a shirt the exact shade of her dress, and dark jeans that does wonders for his long legs.
The further I scroll, the more jealousy grows. They're the hottest couple there. Captions on the photos posted by their friends are along the lines of 'Cutest couple ever', 'Relationship Goals' and the whole works.
I stop at another. They're extremely close: she's perched on his lap, and his arms are around her waist. She's speaking to him and the way he looks at her makes my heart clench painfully.
I don't stand a chance.
His gaze is filled with tenderness as though she's his entire world. The love in his eyes say as much and I know I could never win against someone as perfect as Sasha Vernon. What do I have as ammo against her?
I come from old money and was born into a high pack rank. I'm popular because of my family's name. Respected without having to work for it. I was slapped on the ass by a hand of gold the moment of my birth.
Sasha has earned everything. One of the school's top students while I'm barely passing Maths and four other subjects.
Sasha is a straight A-student, a B-student on her worst semesters.
She's head cheerleader and involved in so many clubs it's a wonder she even has time for a social life and a boyfriend.
Meanwhile, I'm the cold-hearted douchebag who rarely speaks and scares people away with a single glance unless I need an easy fix.
What chance do I stand? Is it any surprise Jace could look at her like that? She has so much to offer him and any fool could see I'll never be able to convince Jace that I'm the better choice.
I set the phone aside deciding that it's enough social media for one day and tune back into the meeting.
"– and I have the perfect way to solidify this truce."
The change in atmosphere is swift. Palpable.
Ezra's words, and the confidence that fuels them elicit a series of skeptical glances. The immediate regret for holding this meeting and negotiating peace with the likes of Lativa becomes too magnified.
Jessica is the only one bearing indifference. She knows all about what happened between the two packs. She knows his reputation. People barely heard of him after he graduated and suddenly, he's Lativa's new alpha.
He couldn't be trusted. He and his in-commands.
A heavy beat of silence pulses. Ezra's in-commands give nothing away. Jessop and his former beta appear clueless while his former commander carries a knowing glint in his eyes, one that mirrors Caleb's.
Our warriors discreetly reach for the Glocks holstered at their hips.
Something is about to happen. I feel it in my bones.
"My pack is dying," Ezra continues. "There aren't many Weres left to call Lativa a pack since most of them have either gone rogue or were accepted into other packs which I know, living there isn't easy for them.
I have a handful of warriors and subordinates who have now sworn loyalty to me, but it isn't enough.
If I intend to rebuild Lativa to its once, former glory, I'll need a capable luna ruling at my side.
I have a proposition that will benefit both our packs in the long run. "
"Spit it out," Beta Chad snaps. The tension increases tenfold and Marcana's heads all look poised for a fight, bodies tense and determined faces.
Ezra's calm disposition doesn't help. He turns and addresses Alpha Isaiah. "Your daughter. I want her."
Caleb turns his head, giving the best 'What the fuck' expression I have seen on a person.
Gavin purses his lips, gaze unfocused before he comes back to us, shaking his head.
Franklyn lowers his head, covering his mouth with a hand.
"Are you insane?" Luna Nicole thunders. She is on her feet before the last word leaves her mouth, the heads jumping into action, forming a barricade between her and Ezra.
Lativa's heads and former in-commands jump forward, startled by the open threat and ready to attack.
"Over my dead body!" the luna continues to spit.
Anger flows off her in waves, and we find ourselves at a point where return is uncertain.
Ezra remains seated, his calm demeanor still in-tact aggravating our luna. She has to be restrained by her mate and Dale has long left his seat, taking up a protective stance of his family.
Jessica is unfazed by the brawl threatening to break out.
Dad is dragged off to a corner, barricaded tighter between Commander Rick and two warriors. Asher and Carter form a bodily shield between me and Lativa, pushing me to the wall because my canines have lengthened and my nails have sharpened to blackened claws.
"You think I would willingly hand over my daughter after what your pack did to us?
" Luna Nicole rages. "What your father took from us!
If you want my daughter, you'll have to kill me first because trust me, Ezra Atkinson, I have not forgotten what your father did, and I will never allow you or your pack to do to my daughter what they did to Diana! "
Dad and I go rigid, struck by such immediate emptiness the reminder of her has left. It takes a full minute to return to the present. We have hardly spoken of her, hardly dwelled on her memory. It would open the floodgates, and everything would come rushing back.
Memories of Diana. My mother.
Dad was never the same after her death. He turned into a person I barely recognized and at times, frightened with how obsessive he became.
He was overprotective, obsessing over my safety at every turn once he dragged himself out of his pit of grief and misery.
He refused to let me out of sight for long and went as far as hiring a pack warrior to accompany me wherever I went without him.
The pack warrior became a temporary bodyguard who would drive me to school, remain on the compound, and drive me back home, or to Beta Chad's house if Dad was working late.
Dad amped up my training when I hit adolescence because things were changing. He knew I would want to experience new things, that I would want to spend time with my friends and many hours away from home, so he cut me a deal.
To enjoy my adolescence, I had to whip myself into the best shape of my life, hone my natural abilities – sight, scent, hearing – and master the art of combat.
Dad had become a fiend whose greatest fear was failing his son the way he failed his mate.
"Mom," Jessica snaps, the calm power in her tone reminding us that she is an alpha by blood.
A hush descends upon the conference room as all pairs of eyes center to the girl who looks like the perfect blend of her parents' DNA wearing a particularly disapproving glare.
"I understand your reaction but please, listen to Ezra. "
"Jessi!" Alpha Isaiah exclaims. Shock and hurt resonate in his firm stare.
Jessica shakes her head and goes over to Ezra. Her eyes softens when she locks gazes with him while he looks like a lovestruck fool.
We collectively feel the strings of betrayal tugging at our hearts, a definite shift that can't be brushed aside. No one feels it greater than our alpha, I'm sure. He would lose his only daughter to that terrible pack.
Jessica is aware of the grief Lativa put us through. A pain like no other, and one that we have not yet completely recovered from.
Dad is seething, looking like a rabid animal caged between the warriors and Commander Rick, a madman who would break free of his restraints and attack. He gets the words out before Alpha Isaiah can form a coherent word.
"Jessica!" he roars, startling her. I stiffen at the animalistic sound. I'm alert, hands balled to fists. At my father's command, I would jump into action whether it goes against the alpha's wishes or not.
"What's this about? Explain yourself, girl!" Dad demands, shoving Commander Rick and the pack warriors away. Beta Chad intercepts his pathway, blocking him off just in case he attacks.
Dad halts his advance but tosses a glare to Jessica and Ezra.
Jessica shakes her head. "I should've told you all before. It would've been easier, but you probably wouldn't have believed me unless you saw it."
Tension thickens. It becomes near impossible to breath easily, every pair of eyes locked onto the pair, following the slip of Jessica's hand into Ezra's, the way their fingers lock together.
Nobody misses the way Ezra lights as he stands, slipping his hand from Jessica's to her waist as he pulls her to his side.
"Jessica is my luna by the mate bond," he proclaims, proud and with all of his chest.
"Jessica." Alpha Isaiah's voice is soft – quieter than I've heard from anyone in all my life, lacking the confidence and command of his rank. He sounds as he looks. Hurt.
Destroyed that his only daughter would betray him – the pack to the enemy.
"Say that it's not true. Out of everyone! Don't you remember what they did?" he challenges, and as quickly as that hurt was there, something else flashes in his eyes, and it morphs into anger. "Did they do something to you, Jessi? Are they forcing you to do this to us?"
"No, Dad!" Jessica retorts, mortified by the suggestion. Perhaps the man is getting ahead of himself. She's loyal to her people and pack. Loyal to her family. But she has a new duty, so it seems.
But her father doesn't want to hear it.
Neither does mine – Hell! Neither do I – amped up on anger, so rattled by the turn of events that he's visibly shaking. Dad doesn't give the alpha a chance to scold Jessica. He does it himself, schooling her on the absurdity of her decisions.
"You would betray us like this? Out of all the Weres in Jasper Falls, this scum had to be your mate. It'd have been better if you were fated to a lowlife rogue than this bastard!" Dad seethes, his breath hollow.
He glances at Jessop and his mouth curls into a snarl.
Jessop is no longer confused about half the things that have left Ezra's mouth.
He's intrigued. A sinister gleam brightens the old bastard's face, widening his mouth, and it sends Dad closer to the edge of sanity.
My skin prickles with a sudden desire to break that guy's face in half.
Jessop is gloating.
"You'll be in danger if you choose this," Dad argues. "You don't know the cruelty they're capable of –"
"I am not Diana!" Her words hit a sensitive spot as silence dwarfs the conference room.
I can't believe she went there. No one suggested she was. But it can't be denied the danger she would ultimately be in, whether or not Ezra means well.
"I'm not Diana," she repeats. Lower. Softer. Her eyes are misty, filled with something I don't understand but when she looks at Ezra, her feelings are clear as day.
She loves him.
"I know what happened has scarred us all, but Ezra isn't like that. He has the loyalty of his pack, and I know he would never hurt me. He won't allow me to be hurt in any way. Please give him a chance to prove himself."
"Jessica –" Luna Nicole starts but her daughter raises a hand, silencing all protest.
"Mom. Don't. He's my mate by the bond. Maybe there's a reason we're fated together. Maybe we're supposed to fix the mess between our packs. Give us a chance to do that. Please."
I don't like this at all.
"Let us bridge the alliance between our packs. We're not the only ones who've suffered as I've met the Lativa Weres suffering from a dying pack. All of those livelihoods compromised because of the actions of a past alpha," Jessica replies.
Her words carry a punch and are meant for a single person among us.
Jessop scoffs. His stern glare of displeasure directed at Jessica promises retribution.
That, there, sums up why we're against their bond. So long as Jessop is alive, her life will be in danger no matter how upstanding Ezra is.
Jessop is cruel, vindictive, and evil. They would continuously butt heads, and he might hurt her just to get back at Ezra.
His silent demeanor and responses to his own son throughout the evening makes it clear that he doesn't approve Ezra's approach to his reign as alpha.
They can't be more opposite as I see it now.
Jessop is all about power and dominance. Ruling with an iron fist built on a foundation of instigating fear, manipulation, and corruption.
Ezra is all about diplomacy and building the pack to push it forward to a better future. He allows his in-commands to add their own takes. He agrees with their points and suggestions. He delegates and leads but his in-commands respect him as the one who has the final say.
The father and son are as different as night and day.
"You don't trust me because of my father's actions," Ezra finally speaks up. "I understand that. You fear for her wellbeing. That too, I understand perfectly." All the while, Jessica remains at his side, a testament and assertion of her loyalty to her mate.
"But trust me when I say that I love her.
She's a capable alpha female, but it won't stop me from protecting her any way I can.
She'll help me rebuild my pack and our bond will strengthen the alliance between our packs.
With her as my mate and luna, I don't dare to betray you.
Lativa has suffered enough and it's about time something was done to fix it.
We should look at this as an opportunity to build Jasper Falls because so long as there is conflict between the packs, can you really say the town's moving forward? "
"We've been moving along just fine these last twelve years," my father grits out in defiance.
"But not as quickly as we can," Ezra replies. To that, he makes a good point.
A throat clears, and all eyes turn to Alpha Isaiah. "I will consider your proposition. Until you have my permission, Jessica stays in Marcana and you two will only consummate the bond once I see it necessary –"
"Dad!" Jessica gasps in abject embarrassment. She quiets finding a this-is-not-up-for-discussion stare directed at her.
"Those are my terms, Jessica. You expect me to move past what Lativa did and accept him as your mate, this is how it will happen. Do I make myself clear?"
"It's a fair agreement, Jess," Ezra reasons. "He is giving us a chance after all and he's doing it to prioritize your safety. Once we consummate the bond, he'll have to let you go. Give him this."
Jessica isn't happy with her father's decision but knows better than to challenge the alpha when he's made up his mind. She heeds her mate's advice.
It could be worse. Her father could choose a different approach and force them to reject each other. He could be the type of father who would gladly tolerate his daughter's hatred so long as it means she is safe.
But once again, he's proven himself to be a fair leader.
"Yes, alpha," Jessica replies, lowering her head in submission.
Alpha Isaiah, now placated by his daughter's agreement, turns his attention to the room.
"The regulations have been set, and terms negotiated accordingly. Unless there are other pending issues for discussion, we will end this meeting." He pauses, waiting and leaving the floor open to anyone to come forth with a problem.
When no one speaks, he calls the meeting to an end and addresses Ezra, alpha-to-alpha.
"You're now the alpha of your pack. Keep your packmates in check.
Any upheavals on your end that threaten the truce between Marcana and Lativa, you can consider yourself an alpha without an alliance and a mate.
Any disturbances your father creates to disrupt this truce will result in his execution. Am I clear?"
"Oh, crystal clear," Ezra replies, a sinister twinkle gleaming in his gaze at the mention of Jessop's execution. No love lost there.
"Good. Chad, see to it that our guests leave Marcana peacefully. Five minutes with your mate, Jessica. I want a word with you."
Alpha Isaiah makes his exit with his mate in tow. Dale stays behind while the newly announced alpha couple exchange words.
She still doesn't like her father's terms, but Ezra takes hold of her shoulders and straightens her posture. Says a few words, then hugs her and kisses her forehead.
With his men in tow, and his father watched for every step he takes, Lativa makes their exit. They pile into the SUVs they came in, and I execute responsibilities as Gamma in my father's stead, sitting in the backseat of Beta Chad's car, with Carter in the front passenger's.
"Sky?" Beta Chad calls. I glance to him in the rearview mirror. "Are you alright?"
"I don't trust Jessop."
"Nobody does," Carter pipes up. "He's a snake. We should watch him carefully."
"And Ezra?" Beta Chad prods. "What do you think about him?"
We know what he's doing. It's become commonplace since last year for the heads to enquire our opinions over pack matters.
There will come a day when Dale will replace Alpha Isaiah.
When Carter replaces Beta Chad. When I'm handed my father's rank, and when Asher becomes the next commander of Marcana's military unit.
'What would you do in my place?' is the question they ask.
"I haven't spoken to the guy so it's hard to make a definitive judgement. Can't sense anything off about him, though."
"He seems genuine enough," Carter adds. "Just..
.Ezra's been alpha for one month. Lativa may have sworn its loyalty, but it doesn't mean he can't be dethroned and kicked out.
Jessop held a lot of power in Lativa. I think if he wants, he could sabotage Ezra's plans and create a new war between the packs. "
Carter's right. Just because the pack swore loyalty to a new alpha, it doesn't mean they are.
Jessop has a way of manipulating people and corrupting the best of intentions. It would come as no surprise if somehow, he overthrows his own son and reclaims Lativa.
His reign as alpha was marked by ruthlessness and his method of using fear to control subordinates, manipulating situations to favor himself. If he wants, he could order Lativa to dethrone Ezra and launch an attack against Marcana.
Everyone knows he never got over the death of his firstborn and blames us for it despite the fact that his son's demise was of their own making.
"Then it's best if we keep a close watch to them," Beta Chad agrees with finality.
I'd like that. We don't need another war.
My father might seem alright, but part of him never came back from the last one.