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“You still looking for Cilla? I thought Maddox had a couple of packmates on her trail.”
The ghost tipped his see-through derby in Colt’s direction. “And maybe they’ll find her before I do. I’m thinkin’ it’ll still be easier for me to move on if I know that that psycho witch can’t get to my boys. Now go on. Terrence will have a fit if you don’t answer his summons straight away.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Alright. We’ll talk later,” Colt promised.
But not about Shea. And not about Dodge’s missing key, either.
The pair of friends might not have much in common, but a self-destructive desire to die—and in Dodge’s case, die again—without giving in to a destiny they hadn’t chosen for themselves was the biggest common factor they shared.
Colt refused to let fate tell him he had to take a mate. Dodge refused to track down a female only because it would extend his afterlife. And while each one of them thought the other was being ridiculous, they respected the other’s decision because they were friends.
Plus, they’d both always gotten one hell of a kick out of messing with Maddox.
So, yeah. Best friends.
* * *
Colt’s Bumptown was more than an hour out from the center of pack land where the Alpha made his home. Because of the drive—and, okay, maybe he hadn’t left as early as he should’ve—he was the last one to make it to the meet.
The Eastern Pack boasted more than a hundred fifty members. While most of them lived in the territory claimed by the Alpha and his mate, some lived on their own patch of land. Maddox lived in Wolf’s Creek. Colt lived in the Bumptown at the edge of Grayson and Woodbridge. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unusual, especially when a shifter had alpha instincts.
The inner circle of the pack was notably smaller. They were also the same packmates who were trusted enough to have an important position at Wolfe Construction, the pack-run business.
As he let himself into the house, heading for his father’s open office out back, he spied seven other shifters waiting for him. Terrence and Sarah, Maddox, Sloane, Kelly, Hank, and Ralph. His family, one member of Colt’s team, two of Maddox’s foremen, and his father’s most respected Omega. Ralph might be considered a runner, but his was often the most thoughtful—and peacekeeping—opinion among the more vicious predatory shifters.
As he strolled into the office, his father grunted a greeting at Colt. Sarah tutted over his lateness. The other men in the room all called his name and nodded at him as he took his position next to Maddox.
Sloane smiled shyly over at him.
“Hiya, Colt.”
A touch of pheromones mixed with the earthy notes of big cat wafted over to him. The petite brunette was a lioness when she shifted, so even if he wanted to believe that the lust he picked up on wasn’t directed at him, it was pretty damn obvious.
Sloane was a nice girl. A talented architect, too, which was how Colt got to know her. She joined their pack at t
he beginning of the year, impressing Terrence with both her blueprints and her hunting skills. She got assigned to Colt’s team once she was admitted to the pack. It wasn't long before she started putting out a signal that she was interested in him as more than her boss.
At first, it surprised him. Then it bothered him.
She wasn’t his mate. He wasn’t hers, either, obviously.
That didn’t stop Sloane.
While male shifters couldn’t get an erection until they found their fated mate, female shifters had it a little bit easier. Because the concept of mating was a biological quirk more than anything for the shapeshifting paranormals, females didn’t ovulate until they were bonded and claimed by their fated mates. They couldn’t bear pups, but they could have fun with other males—just like humans could, Colt thought bitterly.
Sloane made it obvious she was attracted to him almost immediately. Colt made it equally clear that he had no intention of fooling around with the lioness. Luckily, she’d stopped searching him out whenever he was on pack land as soon as she heard the whispers that he might’ve found his mate.
Colt squashed those quickly, then realized he probably shouldn’t have. When he refused to settle down with Shea, refused to follow through with any kind of mating, Sloane started eyeing him with interest in her amber eyes again.
She was a good architect. One of the best on his team. He would never think of shutting her out when it came to her work, but when she was giving him that come hither look?
Colt locked down his expression, standing next to Maddox with his hands folded behind him, his focus forward as if he couldn’t wait to hear what his Alpha had to say.
His father was standing in the front of the office, his mate standing next to him, providing balance and strength to an already powerful alpha wolf shifter. More than twice Colt’s age, Terrence was still in the prime of his life. He was built along the same lines as his eldest son, with wide shoulders, strong arms, and thighs like tree trunks. In fact, the only way to tell the two apart was by the scars lining Terrence’s face.
He was the force behind their pack. He’d cobbled it together in his youth, following the big reveal fifty years ago when paranormals were forced to come out in the open. Too many shifters tried to challenge him for control in the decades since, with every gash and scar on his weathered face another fight he survived.
