The Other Triquetra

Havermouth, Six Years Before

Rhett was bored. There was just no fun flirting with girls he couldn’t f-k, and the regular social events held by the pack were like inviting a starving man to a feast and then forbidding him to eat. He was surrounded by pretty she-wolves but knew if he went beyond first or second base with any of them without declaring her the Triquetra’s mate, her father would beat the crap out of him.

He could feel the eyes of the adult werewolves watching his every move as he danced with Jocelyn. She was laughing up at him, her expression bright and transparently hopefully. She’d danced with Heath before him and would dance with Cameron next.

The Triquetra had agreed to pick a girl and cultivate her for a couple of months before dumping her, in the hopes that doing so would mean the end to the stupid social functions that they were forced to attend under order of Abigail. The pressure of finding a mate as Heath and Rhett’s eighteenth birthdays approached was driving th