Rhett Calder was not a man who lost control. That was the entire point of being Alpha: control of his pack, instincts, and emotions. However, as he sat at the long stone table beneath the Summit canopy, listening to Alphas argue over border patrols and territory alliances, his wolf refused to settle.
Mira sat two seats away, arms folded, legs stretched out like she had nothing to prove, and Jace sat just behind her in the circle of observers, quiet as a shadow. Rhett could feel both of them. The bond crackled beneath his skin like static electricity. The longer they stayed close, the harder it became to ignore the constant hum in his chest like something unfinished was trying to complete itself. He’d spent the night walking the camp's perimeter, sleepless, furious. Mira was his mate. The gods had branded her into his soul. That was hard enough, but now another man, a Beta no less, was tied to her too? It didn’t make sense. Bonds didn’t work that way, at least, they weren’t supposed to, but his instincts hadn’t rejected Jace. That’s what bothered him most. He didn’t like the man, but his wolf hadn’t snarled or attacked. There had been no threat response, no rejection, just silence. Silence wasn’t good. Silence meant possibility, and Rhett didn’t have time for possibilities, not with the Summit collapsing into chaos. “…and if Blackstone refuses to share its northern pass, then perhaps your ‘neutrality’ is more self-interest than tradition,” Alpha Marek snapped. Rhett turned his head slowly. “Careful, Marek. Implying cowardice is a dangerous move this close to a full moon.” The table went quiet. Marek’s Beta cleared his throat. “Our Alpha only meant—” “I know exactly what he meant,” Rhett cut in, then leaned forward. “You want access to Blackstone’s pass, fine. But not for free. And not while rogues are disappearing across three territories and no one’s talking about it.” That got a reaction. Alpha Thorne of the East Ridge leaned in. “You’ve seen signs?” Rhett nodded. “Six patrols went out. Two came back injured. One didn’t return at all.” Murmurs rippled around the table. Jace, behind Mira, sat up straighter. “Same in Hollowshade,” he said. “Two missing. Claw marks don’t match anything natural.” “You’re not a voting Alpha,” Marek snapped. “Maybe not,” Rhett said coolly, “but I trust a report from a Beta more than your posturing.” Mira’s mouth twitched something like approval. Rhett didn’t care, well, not much. Probably. He turned back to the table. “This is the real threat. Not who gets access to trade routes or border control. Something’s hunting in our lands. Something smart.” Silence again. Luna Thorne cleared her throat, her Sharpe gaze meeting his expectantly. “Then perhaps we should consider a joint investigation—a task force. Rhett was already ahead of her. “I’ve already drafted a proposal,” he said. “I’ll take point. One Alpha rep. One combat specialist. One intelligence liaison from each pack.” Thorne nodded slowly. “And Blackstone will host?” Rhett nodded once. “Neutral territory. Well guarded. Secluded.” He didn’t say what he was really thinking: Safe enough to buy time to figure out what the hell is happening to me. Or them. Or all three of them. The vote passed quickly. Rhett knew how to speak the language of command. Offer safety. Demand control. Pretend cooperation. He didn’t look at Mira until the meeting dissolved, but her eyes were already on him when he did. “You planned that,” she said. “I planned the task force,” he replied. “You and Rowan? That’s the gods’ fault.” Mira rolled hee eyes at him, clearly in agreement. Jace approached cautiously, stopping at Rhett’s left. “You’ll need me for Hollowshade’s liaison,” he said, all business. “And you,” Mira added, “are stuck with me as Ridgeback’s combat rep.” Rhett exhaled through his nose. “Of course I am.” But he didn’t argue. Having them both return to Blackstone was risky, but not as risky as leaving them unprotected and vulnerable to whispers and suspicion. Being separated would stress the uncompleted mate bond and force a heat or cause sickness. The moment someone sensed the bond, their world would implode. No one could know. “Three days,” he said. “We leave at dawn.” Jace nodded once. Mira arched a brow. “Just like that?” “You wanted a reason not to run,” Rhett said, gazing hard. “Now you’ve got one.” She tilted her head. “And what about you, Alpha? What are you running from?” The question landed sharper than he liked. He didn’t answer because he wasn’t sure. Not true, he was running from a lot of things but he wasn't ready to admit it. That night, as the moon rose full and bright above the Summit grounds, Rhett stood alone at the ridge, watching shadows slip through the trees. They would leave soon, and when they did, Mira and Jace would enter his territory, his home. He could observe, analyze, and figure out what the bond was trying to do to him, where he had the advantage. He didn’t trust Rowan. Didn’t understand him. But he didn’t reject him either. That was a problem because rejection was easy, but indifference? That was a crack waiting to split something wide open.
