AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He already bore the heavy burden of responsibility for his entire pack as the alpha. The Silver Claw wolves depended on him for guidance, provisions, and protection. How could he possibly take on the monumental responsibility of caring for a child as well?
Callum ran an anxious hand through his dark hair, his ordered mind in chaos. He had overlooked proper precautions, a slave to his irresistible draw to her.
Would the pack accept his mistake? Siring a child with a human mother?
As he paced the garden, the raucous sounds of the masquerade partygoers seemed muted and distant compared tothe thunderous pounding of his heart. Oh, what he would give to be one of them! How could he have let this happen?
He was always so meticulous about protection, the duty embedded deeply from years of steely self-control. She was the only time he had slipped up, so recklessly indulging his primal and unrelenting desire.
He growled under his breath. There were still so many goals he wanted to accomplish for the good of the pack before settling down. And now this bombshell threatened to upturn everything.
A breeze picked up, and he welcomed the soothing chill of the night air, seeking fleeting calm amidst the storm raging within him. And yet, barely contained just below the surface, his wolf reveled at the notion of being a parent, directly clashing with his rational forethought.
"There you are," Connor, one of his enforcers, exclaimed, throwing an arm casually over Callum’s tense shoulders. "Why the long face? You're missing out on all the fun."
Callum shrugged him off, but he didn't seem to notice, gesturing exuberantly at the pandemonium of pleasure unfolding around them. Risqué scenes abounded, the very air choking with sexually charged energy.
Connor waggled his eyebrows. “Come on, let loose. You never let yourself enjoy the animal side of things.”
Callum gritted his teeth, wanting the excited wolf out of his face while his rage simmered under the surface. None of these foolish wolves had life-altering issues like him tonight. They would never understand the dark tempest laying waste to his mind. There were no words to convey the maelstrom within.
Bidding a bewildered Connor farewell, Callum stalked the masquerade, straining for any minor issue he could fasten onto and distract his mind. But the night was disappointingly lacking in obstacles, the guests steeped in bliss.
His mood remained foul as he toured the estate grounds, barely acknowledging those who greeted him. Oblivious intoxication prevailed, and no one seemed to notice his turmoil.
As a group of females bickered over an indisposed werepanther, Callum paused to address the scuffle, thankful for the petty disruption. But their hysterics only intensified his building headache. Controlling his snarling frustration took the last shreds of his energy.
Callum's ears pricked up as shouting echoed from the eastern gardens. Some dispute had arisen among a lust-driven pack of jackals. He strode in that direction with intent, ready to impose order on at least this small chaos. Anything to shake the choking thoughts of his impending fatherhood from his frenzied mind.
As Callum dealt with their drama, a harried servant rushed up to inform him they were nearly out of liquor to serve. Cursing under his breath, Callum dispatched his most trusted valet, Stefan, into town to procure more spirits from their backup suppliers.
The trivial task helped ground his chaotic thoughts briefly. But as soon as Stefan departed, Callum's mind circled back, a moth to flame, to the revelation that had derailed his night.
Fiona. Pregnant. With his child.
He could not escape the truth no matter how deeply he drowned himself in the petty concerns of keeping this party operational. He had lost himself to reckless desire for Fiona, tossing aside a lifetime's adherence to practicality and control. Now, they would both pay the price for his carelessness.
As alpha, he had a duty to behave more honorably, his every decision affecting the entire Silver Claw pack. Instead, he had surrendered mindlessly to the animal lust storming inside him.
Would his wolves lose respect for such thoughtless carnality? Even now, he could barely remember their coupling through theraging red haze of urgent need that overwhelmed his senses at her touch.
Thumping music battered his sensitive eardrums as he roamed the chaotic revelry, struggling to rein in his confusion. He nodded at the popular DJ, Fang, a crowd favorite who played the masquerades. Under better circumstances, Callum might be reveling right alongside his pack mates in the pounding beats and sexual energy Fang spun into the night.
As he wandered in a daze, random partygoers attempted to pull the resistant alpha into flirtation and suggestive dances. He declined again and again. The thrill of wild sex with the pack held no appeal, only reminders of the life he may have accidentally created.
As the night wore on, he realized it had been far too long since Fiona rushed off. Concern eventually overpowered his avoidance, and he cautiously extended his mating sense to locate her. However, the moment he did so, his gut clenched with the harsh truth … she had fled the estate completely.
Every primal wolfish instinct howled at Callum to hunt his pregnant mate down immediately. But the more rational, responsible part of himself sadly admitted what he must do. He would carry on dutifully as host to all these guests who were relying on his hospitality.
As alpha, these wolves depended on him. He could not simply abandon them because his wolf was overexcited.
As the night wore on, he desperately needed some escape from his cyclical worrying and self-recriminations. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he approached the DJ booth, signaling Fang to cut the pulsing music. The sudden silence drew the attention of the confused partygoers.
"Who's up for a co-pack run?" His voice boomed with forced enthusiasm. Howls and cheers met his invitation. The shifterseagerly shifted into true forms, ready to run freely under the full moon's glow.
Tomorrow, he would find Fiona and fix this mess between them. But for now, he relished the analgesic salve of pounding paws and panting tongues under the moonlight, leaving his human worries behind.
As word of the run spread, the party shifters roared with anticipation. Those already morphed took advantage, playfully knocking leftover drinks and shots straight into their elongated muzzles, lapping happily amid cheerful howls.
