I walked into the Council offices well after dark during the busiest time of night for the bar. I needed to be there, supervising the pack before they started tearing things up, but I'd heard hide nor hair from the other wolf pack in the city until just a few hours earlier. I didn't trust Miles Evershaw even the slightest bit, but sometimes the man had good ideas. If he reached out directly to me rather than through the Council intermediaries, he had his reasons.
Light spilled from only one doorway in the dark hall, and I found Evershaw waiting in the SilverLine pack office. He read from a thick book, a history of something boring no doubt, but rose as I walked in. "O'Shea. Thank you for coming."
"What's up, Evershaw?" I sauntered in like it was my office and he was the interloper, and dragged my fingers along the back of a fancy leather couch – leaving my scent behind to drive him nuts later. "Where's your minion?"
"Todd?" Evershaw set the book aside as he watched me, the corner of his mouth turning up. The touch of gray at his temples made him look distinguished rather than old, but his real age showed in his eyes. Haunted. The other alpha poured a glass of whiskey. "He's on a date, actually." He snorted, shaking his head. "Imagine. Who has time to date?"
"No joke." I took the glass he offered, pausing only to inhale the warm whiskey scent before sipping. At least Evershaw believed in spending money on the things that mattered – comfortable furniture and good liquor.
Evershaw poured for himself, and then gestured at the couch and the seat he'd previously occupied. "Sit for a moment, O'Shea."
I did, a hint of uneasiness bubbling up in my stomach. We'd never been in a room this long without threatening each other. The other shoe would drop eventually. The buttery leather creaked as I adjusted my legs, the high-heeled boot revealed as my jeans rode up. He studied it for a long moment, a hint of consideration in his expression, but I refused to adjust my jeans. Couldn't show weakness or hesitation, especially in front of him.
Evershaw swirled the whiskey in his glass, though his blue eyes remained on me. "I won't beat around the bush, O'Shea. Neither of us has time to search for a mate. With the way this Council is going, the wolves need to establish an agreement to protect us from the felines and the other riffraff. The best way to do that is to combine our packs. You and I mate, and lead together."
I blinked, staring at him. Waiting for a logical response.
Nothing occurred to me.
His eyebrows arched. "Well?"
"You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am." Evershaw watched me with his damnably blank expression. "There is no wolf in this city with the balls to ask you out, much less mate you, O'Shea. Unless you're hunting for a guy outside the city – and I know you're not, because all you do is work – you’re never going to get a mate. Never going to whelp some pups."
"Not every woman wants kids, Evershaw. Check your judgments."
"Fine. But you also haven't been on a date in years. This is an easy solution, O'Shea."
My foot bounced again as I sipped the whiskey, needing a little liquid courage. I could cut the man down when he was being an ass or challenging me in front of my pack, but when he tried to hold a normal conversation, he put me completely off-balance. Which was no doubt his goal. "Easy solution for you, maybe. But I don't feel like giving up my pack, Evershaw."
"We combine packs. You and I will be in charge." His long fingers drummed on the arm of his chair. "My pack is not accustomed to shared alphas. It will take some adjustment."
"And what about Rafe?" I studied the glass of whiskey, stunned that I was actually halfway considering it. Evershaw offered a practical, simple solution to several different problems in my life. I wanted a mate, and eventually children, and someone to be my partner – but the other alpha was right. Very few men in the city would dare ask me out. He was an asshole, but if we established ground rules before getting married, maybe...
"I don't give a shit what Rafe does." Evershaw got up and retrieved the bottle, splashing more whiskey into his glass before topping mine off. "But unless he's ready to be a beta, he's not staying in my pack."
"He's my brother." I plucked at a loose thread on my jeans. "Which is why it would never work with us, Evershaw. Not just because I don't like you and find the idea of fucking you off-putting, but because you have no respect for family."
"Off-putting?" He definitely smiled, though he hid it quickly. "You must suffer from a lack of imagination or experience, Ruby. Something we can correct immediately."
My wolf bristled but I refused to react, only raising my eyebrows as I studied him. I took refuge in disdain, wrapping myself up in the chilly demeanor that had protected me all the way to being alpha of my own pack. "Evershaw, you're on dangerous territory."
"Very well. I'm not going to beg you, O'Shea. But this agreement has an expiration date. I'll give you a week to consider it, and expect your answer then."
"You have your answer now. I'm not going to mate with you, and I'm sure as hell not going to let you take over my pack."
Those cold blue eyes watched me as I downed the rest of the whiskey and stood, leaving the glass on the small end table. I straightened my leather jacket as I looked down at where he sprawled in the chair.
Evershaw glanced at his phone as it chimed, but when I turned to go his voice stopped me in my tracks. "I'm the only man in this city who understands you, Ruby. You might not like me very much, but at least I respect you. I know what it means to be alpha. I understand the pressure, the burdens, the demands. I respect what you've been able to accomplish. And I happen to think we would make very strong, very attractive children. Think about it."
I stared at the door, glad my back was to him as his words punched through my chest. Maybe he was right. For half a second, I considered turning back, getting more whiskey, and letting him talk me into sampling the wares. It had been at least a year since I'd had sex, and regardless of Evershaw's technique, a strong breeze would probably be enough to get me off. I gritted my teeth and strode out the door without looking back.