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He lifted his own right hand, displaying an identical emerald signet ring. “Because there is only supposed to be one of these in existence, the ring signifying the Direct Heir to the Bryant Wolf Pack. And I’m it.”
FATED MATES
CHAPTER 21
Don’t Stop Believing
I was beyond spent, but I refused to close my eyes and give into the bliss of deep sleep as I sat with Jake Bryant, Direct Heir to the Bryant Pack, in the backseat of the Humvee headed towards their community.
The cautious side of me didn’t relax, though, until I recognized the mountain we now headed towards.
Bryant’s Mountain.
His people had settled there after all. He would have been happy to know this.
The Humvee and the three others following stopped at the gate attached to an enormous stone wall that extended far into the distance on both sides. Credentials were checked and verified, and we were allowed to pass through.
It was still a few lengthy miles before we reached what looked to be a very upscale, stunningly beautiful city, bringing theWizard of Ozmovie to my mind. I must have looked like Dorothy Gale at my childlike marvel of this shining Emerald City.
“Welcome to Timber Ridge, Miss McEwan,” Jake Bryant said, amused at my gaping expression. “The High Alpha and our family are housed there in the Great Lodge.”
We parked in front of the most incredible mountain ski lodge manor I had ever seen. Jake Bryant gave some final orders to his men, then personally escorted me into this well-named Great Lodge. If I wasn’t impressed from the outside, the inside took my breath away.
There was no time to admire all the modern architecture and plush décor though as I was guided down a series of hallways to a tall set of double doors. The assistant at the desk instructed us to go right in, and Jake opened one door for me to step inside.
The darkly attractive executive at his desk stood when we walked inside and Jake closed the door. I sucked in a breath, because for just one, very brief moment...
But only one.
This black-haired man wasn’t Bryant. Or at least my Bryant. His gray eyes were similar, but not the same. Or the chin. Or build.
“Dad, may I present Callista McEwan,” Jake introduced. “Ms. McEwan, Robert Bryant, High Alpha of the Bryant Wolf Pack of the Pacific Northwest territory.”
My heart sped up. Yes, it had to be him then. He had the look of...of a Bryant.
“Very pleased to meet you, Ms. McEwan,” the High Alpha said, walking around his desk to offer his extended right hand. “You have quite a tale to share, I understand from my son.”
Buddy, you have no idea.
Robert Bryant gave a look to said son who understood the silent instruction, nodded to me in polite goodbye, then turned and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.
“Shall we sit, Ms. McEwan?” he offered with a gesture towards the leather couch.
“Thank you,” I said. “Please call me Callista.”
“And you must call me Rob,” he said, sitting beside me. He glanced down at my folded hands in my lap, adding, “May I?”
I held out my left hand with the emerald signet ring, and he took my fingers and examined it.
“It’s my father’s signet,” he explained. “He had one made for his Direct Heir when he first arrived in America more than a century ago. When word of my brother Michael’s demise came, he had another made for me that I received when I came of age, which I then passed down to my son after I became High Alpha.”
And yet you now wear the original, his unspoken accusation added.
“Are you going to explain how you came into possession of my late brother’s ring, Callista?” he questioned. “All accounts say that Michael was killed by Arcan Hunters a hundred years ago who then incinerated his body for fear of his...Well, they hold to many false superstitions about our kind, as you can imagine.”
“No, I’m not. Going to tell you how I got this ring, that is.”
“No?” he asked with hiked brows, a man obviously not told this very often.
