And the details were where she and Ryder excelled. The rest of her brothers and cousins managed so many other intricacies of the Pack, but she and Ryder handled the details.
“Brynn Brentwood?” a voice called out over the distance. Her wolf stood on alert. Ryder let out a curse, but Brynn didn’t feel the same.
“Finally,” she muttered.
Gideon was at her side in a flash, his mouth in a snarl. “Who the fuck is that, and what do they want?”
Brynn wiped her hands on her pants and shook her head. “That is Alex Martinez. General Alex Martinez. And he’s here to help us.” She sucked in a breath. “At least I hope so. Trust me?”
Her brother and Alpha studied her face before nodding.
Her wolf whimpered at the show of respect, but Brynn pushed that away. She raised her chin and took one step forward, putting her body outside the coverage of the trees.
“General Martinez, it seems we have a lot to talk about.”
The man who looked much older than Brynn but was over a century younger than her gave her a nod, his jaw tight. “It seems we do.”
The world had changed with one breath; one slip of security, and now Brynn and the Talons would have to figure out the next step.
Or lose it all.
Chapter Two
One Year Later
The bitter taste of burned coffee couldn’t even be covered up by the heavy dose of sugar, caramel, and cream Brynn had added to her cup. Sometimes having an acute sense of taste really sucked.
She licked the remaining whipped cream off her lips and set down her cup; fully aware she wasn’t drinking coffee in private. Nothing in her life was truly private. Not anymore.
Brynn smiled softly and brushed her long black hair from her shoulder, trying to look friendly, innocent, and as if she didn’t have a care in the world. A total lie, but most people chose what they saw rather that what they should see.
The past year had just cemented that reasoning to her. When General Martinez had stepped foot near the Talon land, the game had changed yet again. The humans knew they existed. They knew shifters roamed around them; knew that some turned into so-called monsters. But they didn’t know everything. It was Brynn’s job to make sure they didn’t know everything. Well, Brynn, the rest of her family, and the Redwoods.
Uncle Leo and his men had shifted into wolf form and back again on camera. That was what the public had seen. They’d seen the painful transition of bones breaking and tendons tearing. They saw humans shifted into wolves with claws and fangs. Then they’d seen Brynn and her family fight them in human form. They’d seen the show of strength, but they hadn’t seen the death. The cameras had been destroyed by then. Thank the goddess. The humans had only seen a tiny part of who the shifters were. They hadn’t seen a loving mated couple care for one another, hadn’t seen a pup roll in the grass while chasing his tail.
They’d only seen the pain and fear that came with shifting. Brynn felt that same agony each time she turned wolf, but the bliss that wrapped around her soul when she connected with her shifter half was worth any pain.
Again, not that the humans knew that.
Since the Unveiling—yes, it had a name, thanks to the twenty-four hour media news cycle—her life had been on a rocky path, but she counted herself lucky she hadn’t been strapped to a table to be studied…or killed outright for being different. It didn’t matter that humans called themselves tolerant of all people. To most, Brynn and her family weren’t people. In the hundred and fifty plus years of Brynn’s life, she’d seen the worst of humanity as well as the worst of shifters, but she’d also seen the best. She’d seen the struggles that came with tolerance and acceptance of race, religion, sex, and creed. Life had taken great strides in finding an equality people could live with.
Only she wasn’t human.
She’d never been human, not like some of her Pack and friends who had been turned later on in life. She’d been born to wolf parents and raised as a pup. She’d had her first shift at age two, and had roamed the den and surrounding areas with two natures. She didn’t know what life could be like without the constant struggle for control and the delicate balance that came with sharing a body with another spirit.
While some days she wished she were human so she could breathe in safety and not have to deal with Pack dynamics, fighting, and mates—she held back a wince at that last word—she knew she would never let anyone take away her wolf. Well, not like they could, but if there were somehow a magic potion where she could suddenly be fully human, she wouldn’t take it.
Despite the fact that her family wasn’t safe and her very life was on the line just being outside the den wards and in a public coffee shop, she wouldn’t change who she was.
She was Brynn Brentwood, daughter of the former Alpha, sister of the current one. Dominant female of the Pack as her sister-in-law, Brie, was a submissive wolf. Brie held the title of Alpha female and ruled alongside her mate, Gideon. But no matter the strength Brie held and how she took care of internal matters in her own, gentler way, she would never be a dominant wolf. There was nothing wrong with that—no matter what some of the older wolves said. However, it made Brynn’s life a little more hectic.
She ran a hand over her face. She couldn’t afford to dwell on that right then. She had to keep alert, all the while looking as if she were happy and on her way to some of the boutiques to shop.
Yes. Coffee and shopping. That was how she was protecting her Pack at the moment.
The thing was, it didn’t matter that it sounded ridiculous; she knew it would help in the long run. When General Martinez had taken control of the ‘dispute’ on Pack lands, he’d begun a new phase in the way of the shifter. Humans honestly had no idea what to do with them. Processing the concept of another species living amongst them, blending in with them, growing as one unit took time. They were at a standstill while people tried to come up with ideas regarding what to do about the ‘shifter problem.’
Brynn rolled her eyes, knowing she probably looked like a lunatic. Probably not the best way to look calm and collected.
Washington currently had a few committees either being formed or already complete where they were trying to decide if shifters would lose their rights as Americans—if they were ever considered human, if they had a right to live on their own…if shifters needed to be studied or killed or even be forced to join a military group and fight to protect the country. Most shifters weren’t out in the public as they hadn’t been caught on camera like Brynn and her family had been. It was easier for them to hide what they were—safer, as well. But everyone knew that peace such as that couldn’t last very long. Yes, some of those in Washington were actually shifters in hiding, but they had to be careful how they went forward. Deeply laid plans for the Unveiling only worked if people did their best not to create a war.
No one knew what to think, and that gave Brynn and her family time to create a better image than a snarling beast out of control. While Washington and the like tried to figure out what to do, Brynn and the others would show that they weren’t evil, that they led normal lives.
That they shopped and drank coffee at little coffee houses and didn’t bother a soul. And that was how Brynn found herself drinking her latte and waiting for a member of the Redwood Pack to join her. The Redwoods were the Talons’ allies and friends. They’d fought together in the Central war a couple of decades ago when a rogue Pack had called forth a demon to take over the world. And, of course, Brie had been a Redwood before she’d married Gideon, further strengthening their alliance.
Brynn closed her eyes, trying not to think of the way they could have cemented their alliance yet hadn’t been able to. She swallowed hard, her hands fisting on her lap under the small round table. She lied to herself, saying it was only a way to bring the alliance closer.
Her heartbreak wasn’t a thread to an alliance. It was a tactile piece of agony that pierced her body over and over again until the blessed numbness that came with defeat took
over. She couldn’t even rile up the anger in her veins anymore—so unlike her.
“What are you doing?”
That voice. That scent—the spicy blend of wolf and man.
Rage spiraled up within her, and she took a deep breath through her nose. It seemed she could get angry again. His presence broke through the numbness, the torture of knowing what she couldn’t have, no matter what fate told her.
She forced herself to open her eyes and keep her emotions in check. She couldn’t lash out in public—nor could she in private. If she let go, she’d break, and he’d see her weakness. He couldn’t see her weak…couldn’t see her at all.
He stood by her table, looming over her with the presence of an Heir to the Pack and the darkness of responsibilities layered on far too soon. He’d cut his hair since the last time she’d seen him. Usually, he liked to wear it long, brushing his shoulders like the Alpha of the Redwood Pack—and his father—Kade’s did. Now, it was still longer than most people wore, but he couldn’t put it up in a stubby ponytail like he had before. He also hadn’t shaved in a couple of weeks from what she could tell, so his strong jaw was covered in a dark beard that made her think of how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
Shit. She couldn’t think about that. He’d scent her arousal, and she’d be screwed—not literally in this case.
She focused instead on the jade green of his eyes that seemed to bore into her soul and burrow beneath the layer of ice she usually wore. Yet the damn man couldn’t see what needed to be seen, needed to be felt.
How the hell was that even possible?
“Finn.” Her voice was low, husky. Damn it.
He tilted his head, so like his wolf that she darted her eyes around the coffee shop, trying to see what the humans would do with two wolves in their midst. They might not know for sure if she were one, and they probably didn’t know Finn was one, but from the way he stared at her with such intensity, she was afraid the others might see. He was too dominant, too close to his wolf. He couldn’t hide it like the others, like she could, yet she wasn’t sure he knew that.
Finn frowned at her then sat down across from her. “Why were you sitting like that when I came in? What’s wrong?”
His voice was so low, so deep. She had to control herself and not let a shiver roll down her spine.
You. You’re what’s wrong. You’re killing me with each breath; each word, and you don’t even know it. You took my future, and yet you have no idea that you broke me at the same time. You know nothing, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it because you can’t see me as weak.
Yet she didn’t say any of that. How could she? He didn’t know why she felt empty inside. He didn’t know why her wolf pressed up against her, begging her for touch, for a chance at something that would never be. Honestly, she had no idea what he knew, what he felt, only that he didn’t feel the same as she did.
If he had, she’d have known.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she bit out. “Other than the fact you’re late.”
Finn’s brows rose, but he didn’t comment on the lie. Since he was such a strong wolf, he’d have been able to taste it on his tongue, but she didn’t have the desire to deal with anything like that right then. All she wanted to do was get this day over with and get home. Once she was behind the wards, behind her own door, she’d shake and break and find a way to keep going. It wasn’t the end of the world, she told herself. She wouldn’t let it be.
“If you say so. And I’m not that late. I hit traffic on the way over here. This place is closer to your d—home than mine.” She snorted at his near-mistake at the use of the word den. They didn’t want to advertise their species at the moment, but he’d caught himself in time.
“You should have left earlier, then,” she snapped quietly. She sucked in a breath, aware her wolf was far too close to the surface. She needed to regain some semblance of control so she could get on with their day. Lashing out at him, or worse, letting her eyes glow gold and wolf-like wouldn’t help matters. “Sorry, the coffee tastes horrible, and, apparently, it’s making me act bitchy.”
“An apology? How unlike you,” he said smoothly. He stood then and held his hand out. “Let’s get shopping, then. Throw out your cup and we’ll find you another place.”
She stood without taking his hand, her chin raised. “I’m not one of your little groupies, Finn. I don’t need your help.” She tossed the cup and took another deep breath, aware others were watching. Of course, from the outside, it looked like a bitter woman fighting with a man, but still, she needed to keep her emotions in check. That would be easier said than done.
Finn let out a sigh. “Let’s go, Brynn. I’ll get you something shiny.”
She just narrowed her eyes but kept a smile on her face. She couldn’t scare the little humans. “Shiny is good,” she said, trying to rein her wolf in.
Finn smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew something was off, but he’d never know the truth.
It wasn’t like she could tell him, after all.
The man at her side, who irritated her to no end, was the one man in all the world fate had decreed to be hers. He was her mate, her other half, her peace.
Yet he didn’t feel the same pull, didn’t acknowledge that she was his other half.
Finn was her mate, yet she wasn’t his.
Fate royally sucked.
Chapter Three
Finn Jamenson did not understand women. Oh, he might have tons of them in his family, and had had his fair share in his bed, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand them. One minute they were smiling, the next they were snapping at him, ready to tear his throat out for daring to be late.
Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have been late meeting Brynn at the coffee place before they’d gone shopping earlier, but he’d spent twenty minutes in his car outside trying to calm himself down. And for once, it wasn’t him trying to calm his wolf down. Instead, his wolf did nothing while Finn tried to figure out how the hell he was going to handle this situation. The man wanted the woman inside that building. He wanted to cup her face, taste her lips, and kiss her until both of them were gasping for breath.
He wanted to slam her against the nearest wall and slide his hand down the front of her jeans so he could feel how wet she was. Because damn it, he knew she’d be wet. He could scent her arousal every time she was near him, and it wasn’t like it was one-sided either. His damn cock had zipper marks along the side of it since he was hard all the freaking time around her.
Yet neither of them had done anything about it. He figured it was because she just didn’t like him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her ire, but he was only in his thirties while she was over a hundred fifty. Maybe she just didn’t like younger pups who were more dominant than her. That made sense, considering she and her wolf held the strength that most dominants would never attain. Only a few wolves were stronger than her, he figured, and he was one of them. He couldn’t help it; he’d been born this way. Add in the fact that he held the mantle and bonds of being the Heir to a rival Pack since before he’d started kindergarten, and his wolf held more power than most thought he could deal with.
Hell, most days he wasn’t sure he could handle it either.
He’d never made a move on Brynn, and she’d yet to make a move on him either. Despite the fact that both of them clearly wanted each other, he didn’t think they’d ever scratch that itch. She wasn’t his mate. His wolf would have felt the pull, or at least pushed him closer if that had been the case. Instead, his wolf had been oddly silent.
Maybe oddly wasn’t the best word for that. His wolf was usually silent. It took a lot of energy to keep in control, but his wolf didn’t push him daily on things like going for a run or needing to fight a battle. It was more of a subtle burn that ached inside him at all times. He didn’t have the normal pushes like others said they felt.
He figured it was because he wasn’t a normal wolf. Not anymore. Not si
nce the demon Caym had almost killed him as a child. The memory of broken bones and a scream that would never come filled his mind and he held himself unnaturally still, afraid if he were to move, he’d break again. He could still scent the blood of his uncle Josh, who had almost died as well, his throat slit, his eyes wide as he’d reached for Finn.
Finn let out a breath. He didn’t need to think about that day, that pain. In fact, he needed to get his mind off demons and Brynn altogether.
He and Brynn would never get in bed and act out their baser urges because they weren’t mates. And while he could sleep with other wolves, witches, and humans, knowing he would never mate with them, he wasn’t sure he could do that with Brynn. For one thing, it would probably fuck up the delicate alliance he had with her, not to mention the one between their two Packs.
Plus, he had a feeling that once he had Brynn, he wouldn’t be able to stop at just one taste.
And that would be bad for both of them when they met their real mates.
So Finn would do his best to stay away from her and the temptation that came with being in her presence. He could do that. Maybe.
It would be best for both of them if they could give each other space to get over this attraction of theirs. Fucking just to satisfy an urge, where in the end he’d wind up in pieces wouldn’t solve anything. He couldn’t stand the thought of wanting Brynn as a man, only to find out later that he’d lost a chance at true happiness with his mate because he’d been confused and focusing on impulses he shouldn’t have.
And that right there was why he had to take a step back. He sounded like such an asshole. He wasn’t usually like this—he was usually the one who joked and tried to alleviate pressure. Instead, he could only think of Brynn and his personal issues, rather than the issues at hand.
For instance, the reason why he was currently in his parents’ home waiting for the rest of his family to show up so they could begin their meeting. Most of the family hadn’t shown up yet, and his parents were upstairs getting dressed after…well, Finn didn’t want to think about that either. He held back a grin. At least he knew Kade and Melanie Jamenson still couldn’t keep their hands off each other after all these years.
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