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Even though the Western Pack is based in California, he’s concerned that Walker has some kind of base of operations on the East Coast near where we live. It makes sense to me. Considering I saw my sperm donor in the flesh in Muncie a little more than two weeks ago, he very well could still be lurking nearby.
There hasn’t been any sign of him yet. Ryker’s nothing but determined, though. I mean, he searched for me for a year and never gave up. If Walker is within reach, my mate will find him.
I’m sure he knows I’m here. His wolf would have alerted him to my presence long before I walked up the walkway. If he’s keeping his head down like that, it’s a good guess that he’s hiding something from me.
Like, oh, a tiny smile?
Looking back on it, my howl should’ve been more than enough to give me a mile’s head start. But if my guard was doing what their Alpha told them to? Not even my power over them is enough to shake the stranglehold Ryker has over his loyal pack council.
Dick. Luna, I love him, but he can be such a dick.
I slam the door behind me before snapping, “Really, Ryker. Really?”
He finally glances up from the map splayed out on the coffee table. His eyebrows lift, disappearing into the shaggy strands of his sandy brown hair, but there’s no denying the hint of humor dancing in his golden shifter’s eyes.
“Gemma. Sweetheart. Enjoy your run?”
I’m not even a little surprised that he knows where I’ve been and what I was doing. As the Alpha, he seems to instinctively know what each of his packmates is doing at any given moment. Add our mating bond to the mix, and I can’t scratch my ass without him knowing it was itchy.
The moon affects him, too. It’s part of who we are—what we are—but he’s much better at concealing it than I am. Probably because he’s always been free to be the alpha wolf he was born as while I’ve only allowed my wolf to have full rein in the last year or so.
Or maybe it’s because, compared to suffering from moon fever, the moon’s pull on my mate is more of an insistent tug than a fucking yank.
I still feel kinda bad about that. Only kinda, though, because how was I supposed to know that Ryker would suffer the next twelve moons after I left him? He was the one who rejected me in front of his entire pack council. Sure, he had his reasons, and I’ve forgiven him, but he couldn’t have expected me to stick around after that.
Especially since my reaction to his rejection left him with five silvery white scars circling his heart.
I jab a finger at him. “You had them chasing me again.”
Ryker leans against the couch, stretching his arms along its back. He’s reeled in the smile, giving me a deceivingly innocent expression that is such a firm contrast to his hard jaw and sculpted features.
Sometimes, when I look at Ryker, he’s so ruggedly handsome that I can’t believe that he’s really mine. Especially when he’s relaxed, when it’s just the two of us, when he can let down his guard and show his teasing side… like right now.
His dark gold eyes lighten slightly as he says, “They take your safety very seriously. I hope you don’t expect me to blame them.”
“You’re the Alpha,” I shoot back. “I expect you to stop them.”
He drops one hand to a rock-hard thigh, slapping it invitingly. “You’re my mate. So can you.”
Ugh. I hate it when he’s right.
I know I could. Just like how my howl paralyzed them long enough for me to take control, if I give them the express command, they’ll obey me.
Which is exactly why I won’t.
That’s not what Ryker means, though. Regardless of rank, now that we’re bonded, my word should be enough to get any other packmate to listen.
Except him, of course.
As his mate, I’m Ryker’s equal; even if I wasn’t a born alpha myself, I still would be. As soon as we performed the Luna Ceremony, then finalized our bond, he couldn’t use his rank against me. Only a garbage mate would assert his dominance, and for all his faults, Ryker is exactly the right male for me. But while he’s an alpha wolf, he’s also the Alpha—and in a shifter pack, the little ‘a’ to big ‘A’ is a pretty huge distinction. Rather than be just one of the more dominant protectors, my mate is the most powerful wolf in Accalia. When he says “jump”, the rest of the Mountainside Pack—the betas and the deltas and the omegas—all say “how high”.
He used to expect me to do the same. Of course, that was when I was pretending to be an omega wolf, just like my mom. For as long as I could remember, I had acted the part of the omega princess. My dad is the Alpha of the Lakeview Pack, my mom his chosen mate, and ever since Paul Booker adopted me when I was barely one, I’ve been coddled and protected. When I came to live in Accalia more than a year ago, Ryker’s intended mate, he treated me the same way.
Only, turns out that we both had a secret. Mine was that I’m not an omega. I’m only the second female alpha that our people know about, with the first being our revered goddess, the Luna.
And Ryker? His was that he’s always known the truth about me—just like he’s known since we were teens that we were fated to be together.
There’s no point in arguing with him. And, honestly, I don’t really want to. Maybe when I first walked in, I was kind of thinking about it—when both our wolves are riled up, the mating can be wild—but this is the first time in more than a week that Ryker’s been in such a good mood.
