Chapter 1
The late May mist was hanging over the forest as she sniffed the air leading to the valley where her mother and former pack resided. Her teeth bared and a low growl left her throat. The scent was worse than Terrence. Bloodthirst and hate were mixed with the violence and steel. She slunk back into the thicket she had stepped from as silent as a shadow.
Her powerful legs took her back up the hidden path to the cabin high on the mountain range above. As she neared it she shifted. "Terrence. Twenty seven rogues, heading to the pack." She didn't have to raise her voice for her father to hear her.
His massive frame ducked out of the low doorway. Two bags in his hands as he crossed the short distance to the jeep. "I told you to not go down there." He growled. "Now we have to leave." He opened the hatch on the jeep. "Get your weapons."
"Leave?" She asked even as she ran to do what he told her. She hated that about herself. Hated that she was so fast to obey when she was stronger than he was. Her wolf stronger than his. She had overpowered him once.
That's when he had gone inside to call a friend. An old friend. It had been strange when a day later a vampire had come to the two room cabin on top of the mountain. No car, no truck, a backpack over his shoulder. She had been twelve when her education started and the prophecy had been told her.
She glanced to the indoor plants she had bought two years ago online and had delivered to the post office at the human town fifty miles east. Beautiful white moonlight butterfly begonias in full bloom against dark green leaves. Other colors lined the far wall below the only window in the room that was both kitchen and living room. She would grab them after she grabbed her weapons.
Her huge duffle of weapons, her bow, and her quiver of arrows slung across her shoulders and in both hands. The bow was an old style longbow that had been a gift made for her by the vampire. The arrows were specially made. Silver tipped and perfectly made for taking down wolves.
Outside Terrence had just finished loading the back of the jeep with everything that was necessary. He had a bottle of liquor in his hand with a rag stuffed into it. "Terrence?" She asked as he marched past her into the cabin and lit the rag with his Zippo lighter from his pocket.
The red flames caught the rag and he threw it at the outer wall of the living room. She ran to save her precious plants but he caught her with both arms around her waist to haul her out of the small cabin. Remembering to duck as he went. "No. Margarette. We have to go. No trace of your scent must linger here. Get into the jeep."
He didn't let her go until they were at the passenger side. "But-"
"You did this to yourself. I told you not to go down there tonight." He growled shoving her into the jeep and closing the door on her. "Remember our deal. Nothing I tell you is for my own amusement just to deny you something. Keep your alpha in check."
She gave him a curt, tight lipped nod and remained in the jeep. He caressed her cheek gently before darting around to the driver's side and climbing inside.
For three days they switched off driving. The GPS in the jeep leading them down to Colorado. A valley called Atsila. Cheyenne for fire. She had just crossed into Colorado on a cold stretch of winding road that she could barely see with how tired she was.
"Terrence. You need to take over. I'm exhausted." She pulled the jeep over as far as possible so they could switch. He had been asleep in the passenger seat. That was the only way. While one of them drove, the other slept.
He snorted awake as the jeep stopped. "What?" He scrubbed his face with his hands. "What's wrong?"
"I can't go one more mile. We're twenty miles from our destination. I won't die in a fiery car crash thanks." She told him taking off her seatbelt and opening her car door.
They switched places and she settled into the comfortable seat and let her eyes close as exhaustion took her. Twenty miles wasn't that long, but it was better than nothing.
King Stephan sat listening to the arguing among the two hundred seventy seven alphas in the estate room of the huge counsel house. It was giving him a headache but there wasn't much he could do about it until Terrence got there. It had been a miracle that the other alphas had been easily assembled here in three days. Many of them flying in at spare of notice. Gerome and Wilhelmina Sharpclaw doing the runs to Denver to get the alphas and betas.
The only two others who seemed to be suffering were Nathan Warsong and Marcus Olander. Nathan was sitting with his fingers in his ears in the third chair from the royal table against the far wall of the huge room. Marcus Olander at the far end of the long table was motionless in his chair. His beta, Joseph Alderson next to him.
Slowly Marcus rose to his feet with a nod of respect to his king. This was getting annoying. He shouldn't be here. "What do we know?" His thundering voice silenced the rest.
The room fell into a hush as Stephan stood from his own chair to answer. "Twenty three packs have been destroyed in eight months." His declaration started a murmur through the room again.
"The latest?" Marcus asked looking around the room at the empty seats.
"Washington. The report is on its way. Three days ago." As he spoke the door to the left of the where he stood opened.
An Omega ran to him dressed in the dark blue and green colors of the royal house. "They have arrived, my king. She's exhausted." Was whispered in his ear.
He gave a nod for them to be allowed into the room. Their scent entered before they did. Heavy with sweat and unclean. The female was dressed in a black tank top and black jeans. Even her shoes were black. Terrence was in a grey t-shirt and blue jeans. "Explanation?" Stephan asked.
"Three days in a car, sire." Terrence replied. "My daughter, Margarette." He introduced the strange smelling young female of about twenty three next to him. The female gave a small bob of her head but remained silent. Her eyes though were alert and scanning the room. There were dark smudges under the yellow green she had gotten from her father. Same with her flames of red hair.
"She smells interesting." A voice said from the table behind Stephan. Edmund Bloodstone, brother-in-law to Stephan and a pain in his ass.
A low growl filled the air and all heads turned to Marcus. His eyes were white as he strode the length of the table. "Mine." The wild minty scent of her had swept to him when the air conditioner had kicked on as father and daughter had entered.
Margarette's eyes were glued to the huge male striding her way. Tall, handsome chiseled features. Black hair held between his shoulders. The grace of him was alluring. The size of him intimidating. Mate. Her brindle wolf stepped forward as Margarette's nostrils flared seeking his scent.
He stopped a foot from her. His hand raised to her. "Alpha Marcus Olander of the Ozark Pack." He told her formally.
She felt her father nudge her to comply. "Margarette Lashay." She replied lifting her hand to rest in his. Her eyes holding his. His scent filled her lungs as he stepped closer.
The effect was instantaneous. Nothing else mattered on earth except him. This unknown male who held her hand while looking deeply into her eyes. It wasn't the crash of lightning or a charge of electricity that she had read about. It was a sudden shift of what mattered to her. A realigning of her priorities. Things she never thought she wanted flashed before her eyes. A home, family, a pack. These things had been abhorrent to her. Now she craved them with a longing she had never felt.
"The words?" The king prompted.
His eyes bore into hers as he nodded and softly recited the ancient phrase that Terrence had taught her when she was sixteen when he had given her a brief lesson on relationships as a wolf. An awkward experience for both of them. "I, Marcus Alexander Olander, accept the call of your soul to mine. Your wolf to mine. Heart, body, mind, and soul are now yours, Margarette Lashay."
Automatically she recited her answer. Nothing held her to this earth but his crystal eyes. Not quite blue, but not white either. Intense with emotion.
The last word left her lips. All her hopes, all her dreams left her as well. The prophecy would be fulfilled. At least her end of it. Three sons would she bear. Triplets who would help their mate put an end to one head on the snake that was coiling even now to strike.
She didn't register his touch until her skin tingled at her cheek. The backs of his fingers caressed down her cheek to her jawline slowly. It moved to thread in her hair over her ear and cup the back of her head to lift it as he moved closer. She was frozen, not from fear, but from something else. His head bent and his luscious lips pressed to hers ever so briefly. Her breath hitched and then left her on a sigh.
Not in a lasting kiss. Just a gentle press of his mouth to hers. Then it was over. There was warmth in his eyes when he retreated back from her.
Her lungs filled with air as she found she could breathe again. The distance between them leaving her feeling cold and alone2. The king began to clap next to her.
"Excellent."
The rest of the room stood as one and offered their own applause.
"Now we can move on to the matter at hand." He called for an Omega to take the new luna to her alpha's rooms with instructions to have all her bags taken up as well.
A young female of no more twenty touched Margarette's arm gently with two fingers. "This way, please, Luna."
Luna? Margarette had to catch herself before she snorted. She was no luna, she was a slave before she was rescued by her father. A warrior, a scholar, a female of power and yet never of worth. The daughter of an Omega.
She followed because she had no other choice. She had accepted and now was doomed. She cast a glare to her father on her way by him. He raised a brow to her in question as she passed. Out in the long corridor she had followed her father and someone else earlier the female smiled up at her.
"You are lucky. He is the last to mate of this generation's alphas. I had heard talk in recent years about forming alliances with him through marriage." The little female gushed. Margarette felt like a uncoordinated giant next to the petite female as they headed up the hall after she stopped a vampire with the king's instruction. "Please, Gerard." She asked batting her large brown eyes at the male.
"Don't do that, Gina." The vampire grumbled. "Of course it will be done." He glanced to Margarette and then his nostrils flared and his red eyes dilated. "Oh, shit."
Margarette raised a finger to her lips with a slight nod. Trouble was coming and she was a key player in dismantling it. At least that is what Cobra, aka, Elisio Lombardi had told her eight years ago. A three thousand year old vampire with a pure heart and soul. True to his creator, the Goddess. For she had created all night creatures to roam the earth at will then join her in her realm.
He blinked and moved on unhurriedly as he had come in the direction of the front doors. At least that is what Margarette thought. "Huh, I don't think I have ever heard him swear before." The female glanced to Margarette. "He knew you?"
Margarette gestured for the female to continue leading the way. "No, I spent most of my life on a mountain top with my father."
"That sounds lonely." Gina replied, Margarette had a suspicion she would want to remember the female's name. "I grew up in the valley. My family is from the Sharpclaw pack. They are the closest to the valley so we serve the king."
Gina prattled on while she led Margarette up the hall to a set of stairs. Closed doors on either side of them then mounted the stairs. Two flights up to the third floor of the huge building in the kingdom. The banister was polished brass, the stairs of mahogany.
Her steps didn't make a sound as she followed the talkative female. Her mind not on what she was saying. It was downstairs in that room.
