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CHAPTER1
CANARI
THREE YEARS EARLIER
My brother might be the Alpha of the Sylvan Pack, but when he has something to say, Bishop usually comes to me.
He’s not the only one, either. As the Omega, I have my own cabin in the heart of pack land, about a ten minute jog from where the Alpha cabin is set. Unlike Bishop, I’m available for any packmate in need around the clock, while he will only welcome them while he’s in the den.
He never, ever goes to his subordinates—except for me.
I get special treatment. I always have. It’s partly because—except for his beloved mate—I’m the only other Dupuis in Hickory; our parents are long gone, and we were the only two pups they had. More than that, though, it’s my status as our pack Omega. I exist outside of the hierarchy, coddled and prized for the type of wolf that I shift into.
Which is why, when one of the deltas who serves on Bishop’s pack council comes to my cabin to tell me that my brother wants to see me in his den, I’m surprised. I haven’t been summoned by Bishop since the morning after his Alpha Ceremony eleven years ago when he told me that his fated mate was a she-wolf named Sofia Russo, and that she was coming to Hickory to bond with him.
That should have been my first clue that something was wrong.
My second? The fact that Tucker is the wolf who came to retrieve me.
If it was so important that I had to go to Bishop, I would’ve expected that he’d sent his Beta. His right-hand wolf, West is the male that Bishop relies on more than anyone.
Plus, he’s my chosen mate. We’re not officially bonded—at West’s request, we haven’t performed the Luna Ceremony that would make our union unbreakable—but we’ve been in a committed relationship since we were nineteen. Five years now he’s been my male, and with his possessive shifter instincts, he’d insist on escorting me to meet with Bishop.
Not that he’s jealous of me being alone with the Alpha. Ew. Of course not. He’s mybrother, for Luna’s sake.
But Tucker Madden? One of the wolves from our age group who used to sniff around my tail until I made it clear that I only ever wanted West? It doesn’t matter that Tucker’s been with nearly every unmated she-wolf in Hickoryexceptfor me. West wouldn’t like me being alone with Tucker, even if it’s on Bishop’s orders.
So… that means he doesn’t know, right?
I’m intrigued.
I shouldn’t have been.
I should have thrown the door closed when I saw Tucker’s toothy smile.
I didn’t—and now he’s holding the door to Bishop’s den open for me. Once I stride past him, the short skirt on my sundress swishing as I move purposely toward my brother, Tucker nods at Bishop before disappearing.
We’re alone. Me standing in the middle of the space when I realize that no one else is here except for Bishop. My big, brawny brother is sitting behind his sturdy desk. His beard hides his expression from me; reaching toward him with my wolf, I can’t feel anything as he blocks me from reading his emotions.
Bishop is the only one in the pack who can do that. His excuse is that he had a lot of practice since he practically raised me himself after our parents’ deaths. Spending so much time around me as an omega pup, he developed a bit of a shield against my abilities. He doesn’t often use it against me, but when he’s trying to protect me—like usual—he has a habit of locking down around me.
The Alpha’s den isn’t usual empty. Connected to the cabin that belongs to Bishop and his mate, the cozy space is a safe place. It’s where any packmate can go meet with the Alpha and know that he’ll listen to their concerns. Pack councils and meets are held in this room. It’s always open when the Alpha is in residence, and I can’t remember a time when I’ve walked inside of it and only found Bishop by himself.
At the very least, the chair next to him usually seats the other half of the Alpha couple.
Bishops waits until Tucker closes the door behind us before he lifts his big paw, gesturing at the empty chair opposite of his desk.
“Canari. Please. Sit.”
I still, my stomach going tight with instant nerves. My wolf chuffs softly, her head cocked to the side as she responds to my reaction. I can’t help it. I’d been oblivious that this wasn’t just a routine discussion with my brother until now, and I’m suddenly apprehensive.
I don’t know what’s worse, either: that it’s just me and Bishop in the den, or that he called me ‘canari’.
Canari. For as far back as I can remember, Bishop has had this little pet name for me. As we grew older, as he took on the mantle of responsibility, becoming Alpha at the young age of twenty-one, he didn’t use it as often…
He’s using it now, and I’m beginning to realize that something serious is going on.
Our parents died when I was barely a pup. I was five, Bishop ten, and while the rest of the pack gathered around us, making sure we wanted for nothing, Bishop did everything he could to take care of me.
