After Taleb left, Macauley didn’t linger around Justice and Wick’s office waiting for Belleron. His little brother was correct, as usual. Macauley needed to stop seeking validation to do what he knew felt right. There was only one man he needed to speak to, so Macauley went to his woodwork shop to complete one of his orders and to wait for Adres to wake.

The afternoon crept by at a snail’s pace as he continued to glance at the slowly setting sun. It was almost sacrilege for him to think this, but get the fuck out of here, sun.

Macauley hefted the new coffee table he’d made for Michelle—an unmated female beta he’d been known to visit with during the full moon and a few times in between—in exchange for a new pair of jeans and some North Face hiking boots.

The shifters who left the pack lands to work in human establishments would often use their paycheck and employee discount to buy goods to barter with at home since Justice didn’t require they pay rent or utilities. But everyone was expected to contribute; no shifter was permitted to laze around all day. Packs took hard work and mobility from its members to function properly and prosper. Money wasn’t something they needed an abundance of when they were efficient at living off the land.

However, the vampires were a different story. It was a good thing Wick had come from wealth because he’d had to make significant renovations to accommodate the vast comforts his royal court was accustomed to.

Macauley walked the quiet path towards the other side of the compound, shaking his head at how quiet and depressing it was. The yards were usually filled with energetic pups chasing each other and playing games, pack members visiting with friends after work, and farmers in the fields, wrapping up for the day. The pack officers had immediately implemented a 6:00 p.m. curfew, so most of the pack were already sheltered safe inside their homes with their families.

Macauley hoped that after twenty-four hours of incarceration, the prisoners Wick had detained would be ready to talk. Justice would need answers before he allowed things to go back to routine, and they were all free to roam the woods without the threat of danger.

Macauley waved his free hand at one of the guards walking the perimeter.

“Evening, Mac,” Zorn muttered, not breaking stride. “Where are your shadow puppets?”

“I made them stay inside.”

“Oh, I bet they loved that,” Zorn chuckled, never taking his sharp gaze off the tree line as he continued past him.

Bundy, Rich, and Anna had lost their shit when he enforced the curfew on his own betas as well. Anna questioned if Macauley took her title seriously. Even after promising to come back and get them before he went to the war room tonight didn’t appease them. He had not had the time nor patience to explain to them that, yes, as his betas, their jobs were to be at his side, but as their alpha, it was his duty to keep them safe.

Besides, he feared his young friends would see battle soon enough.

Macauley didn’t need to knock when he approached Michelle’s cabin; she was already standing in the entranceway waiting for him in a light pink, lacy teddy thing. “Holy shit.”

She smiled, her bronze-colored feline eyes glittering with seductive mischief. “Now, that’s what I like to hear when my alpha sees me.”

She held the door open wide enough for him and the table to pass through. Once he was inside, she closed and locked it behind them. From her blossoming scent, it was obvious that her intention was not for him to just deliver the table and make their barter. She had something else to sweeten her deal.

Macauley set the table down in the center of the sheepskin rug in her living room. She had a small, one-level, one-bedroom cottage that she’d decorated nicely. The love seat and recliner in front of the television were adorned with thick throw pillows and smelled of her natural sugary scent. The fireplace was roaring, and the interior was so warm it’d have made any man want to take his hat off and stay a while.

He’d always felt relaxed and satisfied when he was in her bed but never felt much more. Neither did she, and it was pointless for her to try to pretend she did. He would know of her dishonesty. Therefore, Michelle had always been bold and direct in what she wanted from him.

His dick.

And Macauley had appreciated that confidence. Had appreciated the hell out of it all over her cabin. But as he stood there gazing at all her supple, creamy skin and those endless legs that used to clamp around him and hold him captive, he felt nothing. Her black-widow mating habits used to send fire streaking through his balls. Now, all he could think of was that the sun was down, and how late would Adres be sleeping in? Was he exhausted from fighting? Had he fed before he went to bed?

Goddammit! Who did he feed from?

“Mac, baby.” Michelle opened her sheer robe a little wider. “I can see last night has you crazy tense. Let me take care of that for you.”

His stomach clenched, and his wolf growled inside his chest. Shit. The thought of Michelle touching him made him not only physically sick but mentally too. This was all the signs he needed to know the truth. Adres was his—he was his true mate. Had to be. Because there was no explanation for why he wasn’t ripping that flimsy piece of nothing off Michelle’s body and devouring her like he’d always done. And after last night, he should want to wind down in the best way possible—with mind-numbing sex.

But Adres’s mature, stern face was all he could see. His strong body was the only one he wanted to feel. Macauley wanted that adrenaline he’d felt when he was battling Adres’s shields and combating his power that almost matched his own. His heart battered against his ribs at the realization.

This is incredible!

It was near dark outside. He needed to leave. If Adres wasn’t awake yet, well, then he was going to extend him the same courtesy of showing up in his bedroom like he’d done to him.

“I can hear your heart beating faster.” Michelle licked her lips, looking resplendent and smoldering as she stalked towards him. She had a sinful sway to her round hips that made alphas fall to their knees… in private. “You can give me all of that pent-up frustration, handsome. Because you know I can take it.”

Her purring sounded like hornets buzzing in his ear. He didn’t mean to be rude, but a laugh bubbled up in his chest and exploded into her face. He slapped his hand over his mouth, but a couple of snorts still leaked out.

“Am I missing something?” She blinked incredulously.

Macauley hurried to straighten himself. “No, not at all. I’m just… I’m, umm…” Freaking out. Too excited to sit still.

“Hey. It’s all right.” Michelle ran her smooth palm up his chest, causing him to flinch. He tried not to overreact, but her hand felt like a rusted spike dragging over his skin. “Why don’t you let me fix you a plate. I made rib eyes, your favorite, and asparagus picked fresh from Jaclyn’s garden.

Her eyes shone with pride that she knew the way to an alpha’s heart. But his favorite wasn’t steak, it was Italian. Yep. He preferred pasta over a slab of beef. Some would say he wasn’t… Macauley snorted.

A normal shifter.

Macauley got his ass moving. He was almost to her door when she darted in front of him.

“Wait, Mac. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Michelle, but I can’t do this with you. I only came to drop off the table.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known you’d be in meetings all day.” She bit her glossy bottom lip between her teeth, then whispered, “I guess I’ll see you on the full moon.”

Macauley shook his head, knowing he had to be straight with her. He placed his hand on her shoulder in hopes to lighten what he was about to say. It wasn’t a totally uncomfortable feeling, but the contact was far from pleasant.

He’d just opened his mouth and uttered the first syllable of his apology when a loud banging startled him away from her. Macauley blinked, and the pounding started again twice as hard.

“What in the hell?” Michelle demanded, yanking her door open. Whatever she’d been about to bark died on her lips at the twin vampires standing on her doorstep.

“It would be in your best interest if the alpha left your home now.”

Macauley remembered their names were Omor and Daciana, but he couldn’t tell which one was who. Or why they both appeared to be terrified.

“What are you two talking abo—” Macauley caught a whiff of berries and leather on the wind, and his heart threatened to escape his control as he stepped out onto the porch.

Adres stood rigidly in front of the king’s legion, his eyes the color of polished opal glaring back at him, the darkness in them so bottomless, so intense, it stole his breath away.