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LUKE
Istrode into the council meeting, late but ready to rumble with anyone who gave me a hard time.
Instead, Reed called out to me with a big smile, waving me over.
The burly bear shifter was lounging in one of the weird ergonomic chairs the council ordered from the IKEA in Philadelphia. He had the chair tilted back so far it looked like it would tip over any minute and spill the big guy to the ground.
But Reed knew his limits. He was as graceful as he was large. And his good humor was just what I needed to take the edge off my fury.
“Hey, Reed,” I said, making my way to the back of the room and pulling up the chair next to his. I considered all the members of the council to be my brothers, but Reed and I had always been especially close. We’d been close with another once, but this job brought many risks.
I pushed the dark thoughts aside and concentrated on the matters at hand.
“Nice of you to join us,” Jonah said, smoothing back his already smooth hair.
Our group was a democracy, but Jonah called it to order for meetings. He was another wolf shifter, like me, but a little older. He’d seen his share of action, and bore the scars to prove it. Some days he handled his modest power lightly, others he forgot he wasn’t really management.
“I don’t know what was on the agenda for today, but we have bigger problems,” I said, without acknowledging him.
“What’s going on?” Reed asked, concern clear in his deep voice.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jonah grumbled. “What are you even doing here? Why haven’t you claimed your mate yet? Until you do that, there is no council matter big enough to warrant your attention.”
There were murmurs of agreement from around the room. I gazed out over the space, wishing any one of my brothers in arms could have been the one to hear the mating call instead of me.
It was lonely on this mountain, and while there were willing women in the village to scratch the itch for companionship, none of us could commit to more. It was our solemn duty to choose a witch for a mate when we heard the call.
Without shifter guardians here, where the veil was dangerously thin, the safety of the world would be at stake. It was bigger than all of us.
While the witches might think we just sauntered over and made our selection, like a TV housewife at a fifties butcher shop, the truth was much more complicated.
A bond could not be forced.
So the monthly ceremony might be quiet from the women’s point of view as they chanted without incident month after month on the courtyard. But there were always at least a few of our kind prowling the woods at the edge of the castle, praying to feel the tug of a potential bond mate.
Except for me.
I had never looked for a witch’s love. I resented the imposition of my brotherhood’s requirement, even though I understood it. Our kind was dwindling, and there was no chance of continuing our line by mating with an ordinary human. Only a mate with magic had hope of bearing another shifter to carry on our duty.
It had to be a witch.
But I sensed the danger in these woods, growing every day. This was no time to bring cubs to the world. Now was the time to defend it.
My brothers needed to know.
“A hellhound followed her to me last night,” I said.
The room went silent. I could read the emotions though, a blessing and a curse that came with my heightened senses. Shifters didn’t waste time with lies, at least not to each other.
There was some doubt washing off of Jonah. But I mostly sensed fear and anger. My brothers had my back. They believed me, always. I might not share their desperation to land a mate, but they knew I put duty first.
“Did you follow it to its source?” Reed asked, unknowingly cutting to the quick of my shame with his question.
“I pulled the girl into a cave,” I said, shaking my head. “To protect her. Then she used her magic to seal us in. By the time we left in the morning, it was gone.”
“So you didn’t take the girl, or take out the hellhound,” Jonah said mildly.
I clenched my fists by my sides, willing myself not to respond, but knowing he sensed my anger.
