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He avoided any more small talk as he weaved his way through the crowded tables and those standing trying to order a drink. As soon as he sidled up to the bar, he made eye contact with Johnny and cocked a brow, receiving a nod and a whiskey. Draven grabbed the tumbler on his way to the low stage at the back of the room where his father stood with the elders—the founding members of the pack tribes.
They were the ones who needed to be convinced Draven was ready to lead their pack.
As he approached, many of them gave him respectful nods, while a few awarded him with smiles. They were a mix of modern and traditionalist, with the latter making up the crotchety majority. The ones who valued the bloody origin of wolves would love to see his family fall from the pack hierarchy and reverse the centuries of progress made by the American wolf packs. Fortunately, though they had the power to sway the pack, they couldn’t overrule the Alpha.
His father’s eyes locked with Draven’s, and he waved him over, dismissing the elders to their seats in a semi-circle behind where his throne sat. It wasn’t anything ostentatious, just a padded chair lifted higher than the rest. His father never saw himself as a King. It was more a formality than anything. He held the power of the pack through his connection to the Goddess, and was a fair and loyal Alpha. He only ruled with the weight of his title when necessary and very rarely resorted to violence that wasn’t provoked. Draven joined his father, who raised his arms, instantly silencing the entire bar.
This was it. No turning back.
“Thank you for joining us today. I know it’s not easy to come in for those of you living in the outlands, and I assure you I wouldn’t have called you in if it wasn’t important.
“Usually, I leave all the big announcements for the monthly runs, but this is a moment I wanted to celebrate before the moon rose and our wolves joined us, because while it will be a time of joy, it will also be a time of adjustment.”
A few gasps rang out as the pack put together what was happening. Draven allowed his gaze to take in the faces of the members of his pack. Some were looking at him, sizing him up, while others kept their attention on his father. It’s not like he hadn’t been groomed for the position. The pack knew him and trusted him.
“The history of our people is a long—”
A sharp tug within his chest pulled his attention from his father’s history lesson and toward the door at the back of The Howler. The tug continued to tighten like a noose around his sternum and with every passing moment it urged him to move toward its source. He had no idea what it wanted from him, only that he couldn’t remain where he was.
Just as he was about to take a step to ease the pain, a loud bang echoed through The Howler and Mateo stumbled through the door carrying what looked like a mess of blonde hair. His chest heaved as though he’d run all the way there, and his eyes darted around the room until they landed on Draven.
Jenga. Mateo mouthed the safeword he and Kade established if ever there was a situation that needed immediate attention but wasn’t safe to discuss in present company.
“Fuck.” Draven cursed softly, bringing his hand to his chest and rubbing the spot that burned. His mouth watered instantly and his gums ached. The unmistakable smell of fresh blood filled the air, but it wasn’t just any normal blood. This blood was a fucking intoxicating blend of mint and roses. It danced in the air, and Draven only needed to open his mouth to savor its delectable taste. His eyes darted to the mess of curls in Mateo’s arms, and he licked his lips, ready to pounce.
Shit. He needed to rein in his bloodlust otherwise there would be no easing the pack into his hybrid nature. They’d get a damn show.
Draven swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of control. He wasn’t sure what the hell Mateo was thinking, barging in and interrupting his father’s resignation speech. The Howler was filled with the entire fucking pack and every single pair of eyes was on him; there was no way to handle this quietly.
Seconds passed like hours as Mateo realized the gravity of what he’d done. With calculated steps he moved toward the stage, their pack parting like the Red Sea around him.
When he reached the area in front of Draven and his father, Mateo threw Draven an apologetic look and lowered what he could now see was a woman curled in his arms. She looked up at him, her big blue eyes shining for a split second like a doe in the headlights before they hardened into a warrior’s stare.
His wolf lurched deep within him and an unexpected growl tore through his chest and echoed off the walls of the Howler.
Draven’s eyes widened, and he barely managed to hide the shock of his wolf pacing within him.
Back and forth. Tail swishing as he stalked.
What Draven was feeling shouldn’t be possible without the full moon. The curse prevented it. But there was no denying his wolf was there, present within him, though he lacked the strength he’d normally have during the full moon. He wasn’t lethargic, but his presence was muted. What shocked Draven even more was the lack of reaction on anyone else's face. Whatever was affecting him wasn’t happening to anyone else.
“Draven?” His father was at his side, his hand on his back, but his voice drifted as if it was far away. Thank the Goddess whatever held Draven wasn’t affecting his father. “Draven are you okay?”
He was the furthest thing from okay. His wolf was seconds away from tearing through his flesh to come to the surface, and the woman before him inexplicably had a vice grip on his chest making it impossible to breathe.
Draven raked his eyes over her. She was beautiful. She stood motionless, her gaze locked on him. Her plush lips parted slightly. His dick took notice, and he wondered exactly what they would look like wrapped around it. Fuck this wasn’t the time for that, but he couldn’t help himself. It was like his body had been overtaken, and this woman was the only thing that mattered. His eyes drifted to her shoulder where blood dripped from a fresh wound and trailed down her arm. Draven’s fangs broke his gums and it took every bit of willpower to stop himself from lunging at her and licking every tantalizing drop from her skin.
Fuck, who the hell was this girl? He’d done everything in his power to learn to suppress his vampire side, but the moment she walked in it was as though all those years had been a waste. His mind raced with possibilities. Had the witches sent someone to mess with his ascension to Alpha? Was there anything they could do to make him feel like he was? Why did she fuck with his control?
Draven inhaled a shaky breath. When he’d gained some semblance of composure, he gritted through his teeth, sure to hide his fangs. “Who is she?”
His words broke the silence that had fallen over the pack and with it came whispers.
“She’s not pack.”
“She can’t be here.”
“Is that…?”
