“We’re here.”
Resentful that he had to open his eyes, Callum glanced around, confused by what he saw. A big log building. Lots of lights.
Wiping at his mouth, he tried to make sense of where here was.
“Your cabin?”
“Thatcher’s lodge.”
He swallowed and examined the structure with fresh eyes. Lights were on inside and out. The parking lot was well lit, but empty aside from a few trucks. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s just after eleven. You should see him now. Disrespectful not to.”
“He deserves respect?” Callum’s grumbled thoughts weren’t quiet enough.
“If this was any other pack, you’d search out and acknowledge the alpha before doing anything else. This is no different.”
Damn. He had a point.
Grabbing the silver handle, he swung open the door.
Before they could enter the lodge, a man approached the truck. His jean jacket lay open, along with a plaid shirt that was unbuttoned, revealing a white muscle shirt pulled tight over a toned stomach. A chain hung around his neck with some kind of pendant, but it was too dark for Callum to make out what exactly it was that hung around the man’s neck.
“You might want to wait until morning.”
Elliot frowned. “Why?”
“He’s having a party.”
“Shit.” Sucking in a breath, Elliot readjusted his ball cap. “Great. I didn’t know he was planning one so soon.”
The other man shrugged. “Last-minute thing, I think.” He looked at Callum. “You must be the cousin. I’m Rafe.”
“Hey.” Callum shook the hand that was offered to him.
Elliot looked at the building, his expression pained.
Rafe patted him on the back. “Just tell him you got in too late, and–”
“And what, Raphael?” a voice spoke from behind them.
Turning, they saw a man about their age heading toward them. A scraggly beard obstructed his chin, and a ball cap covered his hair. Next to him, an unsteady woman giggled drunkenly as she clung to him.
“And none of your business, Jessop.”
Rafe and Jessop glared at one another.
“You know, you don’t give the orders around here. No one’s going to listen to a faggot like you.”
Elliot growled. “Fuck off, Jessop.”
Rafe patted Elliot on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Elliot. Jessop’s just pissed because he knows if it came down to it, Uncle Thatcher would pick me over him to lead this pack.”
Jessop smirked. “You keep thinking that. We both know this pack would fucking eat you alive before falling for any of your liberal ideas.” He leaned closer, the light from the lodge illuminating the couple. “I’d take the first bite.”
Jessop made a vulgar snapping motion with his jaws, prompting the girl to giggle harder.
In the light, Callum noticed how dilated her pupils were. She wasn’t just drunk.
“Jessop!” a gravelly voice shouted from the doorway.
The voice commanded attention, forcing them all to glance toward the lodge, where a man with graying brown hair had thrown open the doors and was now striding toward them. Jessop cowered, Elliot tensed, and Callum knew, just knew, who had walked into their argument.
Thatcher Diset approached them, a beer bottle loosely hanging from one hand, his ire focused on Jessop. “Boy, we’ve been waiting for you. Get her inside.”
“Rafe was telling Elliot not to bring the newcomer to see you tonight.” Jessop straightened. “I knew you’d want to meet this guy, but Rafe–”
Thatcher slapped him across the face, silencing Jessop’s complaint. The girl nearly fell over from the force, but Rafe reached out to steady her.
Callum stood in shock. Drew, his own pack alpha, would have never slapped one of their pack members. What the hell had he just walked into?
“Nobody likes a rat. You worry about you, and what I fucking asked you to do. Get her inside. They’re waiting.”
Jessop rubbed his cheek. “Yes, sir.”
Grabbing the leggy brunette by the arm, he started toward the cabin, glaring at them all.
Thatcher stood, hands on hips, as he watched to ensure Jessop did as he was told. When the door shut, Thatcher turned, the stern look gone, a wide, dimpled smile in its place. “Callum, right?”
Refusing to glance at Elliot for approval, Callum knew this first impression mattered, and despite his disgust with the man before him, Callum needed to get a lay of the land before he made waves.
The smile on Thatcher’s face was disconcerting. He had a broad forehead and thick eyebrows that sat over watchful eyes. Though his face showed the most common weathering of time, wrinkles around his eyes, gray in his beard, he was clearly aging well. His physique surprised Callum the most. He definitely didn’t sit around idly while forcing others to do his work. The alpha clearly enjoyed physical labor. He was almost as broad as Elliot, though he wasn’t nearly as tall.
But more than that, it was the aura that surrounded him. He was an alpha, so Callum had expected to feel his power, but he hadn’t expected him to be so powerful. As a beta, Callum struggled to keep eye contact, the submissive impulse to avert his gaze was overwhelming.
Jaw clenched, Callum held out his hand. “Yep. That’s me.”
Thatcher’s palm was strong, his handshake sure. As their skin collided, Callum couldn’t help but think it was still warm from where he’d struck Jessop. He wished he hadn’t just woken up. He was groggy, making this weird encounter even more surreal.
“How long will you be visiting?”
“Callum is on a pilgrimage,” Elliot supplied.
“Ah.” Thatcher’s grin widened. “I remember that pull. Powerful thing, that mating desire.” His eyes twinkled when he asked, “So you came for the Curusm?”
Before Callum could so much as snort in derision, Elliot jabbed him. He shot his cousin a look before keeping his tongue. “No. I’ll find her another way.”
“Well, good luck to you. You’ve picked a wonderful time to join us, if you’re hoping to catch her scent. We have a lot of women visiting from other packs. Some even travel halfway around the world to be here. It’s good timing.” He glanced toward the lodge, where laughter and warm light spilled from the open door. “We’re having a little party tonight. Join us?”
Tension rolled off everyone there, but Callum wasn’t sure what to make of it. He knew there was no way he was going into that building. Unsure if he was demanding or requesting his attendance, Callum considered the best way to answer.
Feigning a yawn that turned real halfway through, he ended up stretching. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind calling it a night.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing. Next time.”
“Maybe,” Callum replied, but Thatcher was no longer paying attention.
“Nephew,” Thatcher called toward Rafe.
The man who had squared off against Jessop raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Know your place, kid.”
Rafe’s smile was easy and carefree. “Sorry, Uncle. I have nooo desire to run this pack of dogs. It’s just Jessop, you know? Can’t resist needling him a bit.”
With a heavy sigh, Thatcher looked in the direction Jessop had gone, before grumbling, “I know.”
The girl Jessop had brought returned to the door with another man’s hand on her waist. He called out to the alpha. Thatcher treated them all to a sly smile that sent shivers down Callum’s spine. “Night, gentlemen. Don’t get into too much trouble.”
Before he entered the building, Thatcher had pulled the girl away from his friend, and had his hand down the back of her jeans before they disappeared from view.
Rafe pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Agreed.” Elliot glared in the lodge’s direction, making Callum wonder just what kind of party was going on behind those doors.
They loaded into the truck. Callum and Elliot in the cab, and Rafe finding a place in the bed near enough to the rear panel that they could hear him with the window open. Before they were on their way, Callum noted Rafe frowning down at his phone.
Once they were out of the parking lot and headed down a country road leading out of town, Callum released a breath. “What the fuck was all that about?”
“A warm welcome.” Rafe’s sarcasm was clear.
“That was your first test.” Elliot looked over, momentarily taking his gaze from the road.
“And you failed, by the way.” Rafe laughed. “Thatcher won’t like you.”
“And I should care?”
“I guess that depends on what kind of man you are.”
Elliot snorted. “Callum really doesn’t want to be here.”
“Aww, come on.” Rafe shifted against the truck bed. “We’re not that bad.”
Nervous about what he should and shouldn’t say, Callum glanced from Elliot to Rafe. He should have asked more questions before he arrived. Was everyone under Thatcher’s thumb, or did some people suspect he was a murderous monster?
It seemed like Rafe and Elliot were friends. Rafe had come with a warning to leave the lodge. Did that mean he was looking out for Elliot? Would he back Elliot against Thatcher if it came down to a fight?
“You’re Thatcher’s nephew?”
“I am.” Rafe stared vacantly at the passing trees as the truck continued down the road, yet he raised his voice so they could hear him. “My dad was his brother.”
“And you’re an alpha?”
It was hard to get a fix on that. Callum knew that bigger packs could have multiple alphas, and a pack as large as Thatcher’s had lots of them, each with designated roles, but they all answered to one alpha. Thatcher ruled here.
Normally, Callum could tell. Elliot was an alpha. He had skills to lead, but more than that, he was powerful. Callum could sense that same power in Rafe, yet he hadn’t presented himself that way before Thatcher. Was that an act? Or a learned behavior to survive in this pack?
What had Elliot said? Head down, mouth shut.
And what about Jessop’s faggot dig? Could Rafe really be gay? Was that even possible in a pack like this? From what Elliot had told him over the years, and rumors he’d heard elsewhere about Thatcher, he didn’t think a gay man would survive long here.
“Yep.”
Callum turned his gaze to Elliot. His cousin’s face was grim. “Rafe’s dad took a bullet to the brain the same night my dad went missing.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
The silence was heavy, until Rafe told him, “It was a long time ago.”
“My point,” Elliot said, drawing Callum’s attention as he turned the truck down another dirt road, “is that you can speak freely in front of Rafe. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother here.”
“Aww,” Rafe teased from the back. “Don’t go all mushy on me there, bigfoot.”
Elliot’s lips twitched into a smile.
“So, you’re Thatcher’s nephew, that dickwad,” if he could talk freely with Rafe, there was no time like the present, “was his son?”
“Yeah. That’s Jessop,” Rafe confirmed. “Rumors go back and forth on whether he’s Thatcher’s actual son. Neither Thatcher nor his mate were very faithful. It’s no secret that Thatcher has no respect for Jessop.”
“He doesn’t deserve it,” Elliot interjected.
“No, he doesn’t.” Rafe glanced down at his phone again, and with a shake of his head, bit his lip before shoving it back into his pocket. “But maybe if he’d had a dad who gave two shits about him, he wouldn’t be such an asshole.”
Elliot looked into the rear-view mirror. “What was with Thatcher’s talk of mates?”
Rafe shifted again. “I know, right? That was fucking creepy, like he was remembering.”
“Why would that be weird? He has a son, so he had a mate, didn’t he?” Callum looked between the two men, who wore matching expressions.
“It wasn’t a fated mating,” Elliot told him, his tone grim, “and it didn’t end well.”
“They found Aunt Evelyn strangled.”
“Strangled?” Fuck. “Let me guess. This was around the same time that your dads died?”
Elliot nodded.
“So all these powerful alphas go missing. Everyone that was a potential threat to Thatcher’s rule, plus his mate dies in one of the most passionate methods of violence? Seriously, how is he still in power here?”
To Callum, it was crazy. All the fingers pointed to Thatcher. How could they let him go on living after so many of his rivals and threats had just disappeared?
“The thing is, the pack was fighting with King’s pack and it had gotten violent. There were casualties on both sides, so it’s not a stretch that Thatcher spun it that way.” Rafe’s tone was way too calm for Callum’s liking. “Plus, there were members of his inner circle that went missing, too. Could be that he’s telling the truth.”
“But he’s not.” Callum barely got the words out through his gritted teeth.
“No.” Rafe looked out past the trees. “He’s not.”
“So why don’t you guys do anything about it?”
“There are a few reasons,” Rafe began. “This pack is a mess. Whoever became alpha would have a hell of a fight to keep the pack, and if they wanted to change some of the pack laws, there would be a lot of resistance. People here don’t like change.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Elliot interjected. “Thatcher is powerful, and his crew outnumber us. By a lot.”
“So you’re scared of him?”
“It’s complicated,” Elliot growled.
It wasn’t the first time he’d heard Elliot say that, but Callum didn’t understand. It couldn’t be simpler. Kill the abusive dictator. Restore peace in the pack. Make friends with King’s pack.
“Where I come from, we get along with the neighboring pack. Our pack members don’t go missing. We’ve got each other’s backs.”
Apparently tired of explaining it to him, Elliot didn’t even look over when he said, “Then go back.”
Callum grit his teeth. The mating pull had drawn him here. He couldn’t leave now.
“You know I can’t.”
Looking like a rain cloud, Elliot opened his mouth, but Rafe cut him off.
“Boys, boys, let’s not fight. It’s getting late. Everyone is tense and tired, and frankly, wouldn’t you rather have a little fun on your first night here? You’ll get the lay of the land soon enough.”
Elliot pulled onto a gravel driveway and parked in front of what Callum assumed was his cabin. Though it looked a bit more like a re-done, two story trailer home. It had wooden siding, and blue trim. In the headlights, Callum could see the staircase attached to the second floor, which led up to the roof. Half a dozen steps led from the ground to a small porch and double patio doors. No outside lights were on.
Callum climbed down from the cab of the truck as Rafe hopped over the side, landing on the ground next to him.
Elliot shut his own door, rounded the truck and pulled down the tailgate. “I figured we’d get the mattress in first. Then unload the rest.”
Rafe helped them pull it down from the truck bed, and held the door for them as they walked it into the house. As they brought in the rest of the items, Rafe sat on the tailgate, staring down at his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Elliot asked, prompting Rafe to glance up. “You keep checking your phone. What’s up?’
The alpha’s jaw was tense. “Viv. The party was a last-minute thing. I’ve sent her a warning, but she hasn’t seen my message.”
“She’s probably fine. She’s a smart girl.”
Rafe sighed, and stared back down at the device.
“Go.”
“Yeah, I should.” He turned to Callum and shook his hand once more, this time clapping him on the shoulder too. “Nice to meet you. Sorry I couldn’t stay for the welcoming party.”
Callum grinned. “No worries.”
“You want to take my truck?” He held up the keys.
“Nah. It’ll be faster if I run. I’ll have to take the long way in the truck.” The alpha began to strip, folding each item on the truck bed as he removed it. “I’ll grab these tomorrow.”
While Rafe stripped, Callum grabbed his bags from the cab and started back to the cabin. He returned in time to see Rafe shift into a black wolf—a big fucking black wolf—and run into the woods.
Shocked, Callum turned to Elliot. “He’s fucking huge. He bigger than you?”
“As a wolf? Yeah. Faster too.”
Callum looked in the direction the alpha had gone, his tone changing from astonishment to concern. “Is everything okay?”
Elliot followed Callum’s gaze with his own. “Yeah, or it will be. Rafe will make sure of it.” He turned toward the truck. “You got everything?”
“Yep.”
Elliot locked the truck and they both headed inside.
The cabin was tiny, and opened into a living space with a TV mounted onto one wall, and nothing more than a simple, worn couch. Between the wall and couch, they’d crammed the mattress on the floor. Elliot maneuvered around the sofa to make his way into the kitchen. Unlike the living room, the kitchen had a low ceiling that almost brushed the top of Elliot’s head. He dominated the petite space, even when he bent to hunt through the bags they’d brought in.
“You couldn’t have picked a smaller cabin?”
Elliot glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “I don’t need a whole lot.”
“And when you find your mate?”
Returning to his task, Elliot snorted. “I’m not counting on that happening anytime soon.”
“That’s what I thought, and now look at me.”
Without straightening, Elliot said, “Here,” and tossed the package of sheets toward him.
He worked on getting the bed set up, while Elliot sorted their bags and put items away. When they were finished, Elliot grabbed a couple beers from the fridge and gave him a brief tour, taking him through the bedroom to the stairs he’d seen from the truck.
The bedroom was equally small, with the bed dominating most of the space. Navy and white decorated the room, and Callum had a sneaking suspicion that Aunt Charlotte had had a hand in ensuring the room had some décor. It was neat and tidy though. Elliot kept a clean house, which Callum appreciated, seeing as he’d be bunking here for the foreseeable future.
With a beer in his hand, he followed Elliot up the outside stairs to the roof. There were four wicker patio chairs and two round glass top side tables. Callum took a seat in one chair, and Elliot dropped into another.
“Thatcher is having a meeting in the morning,” Elliot said, after a few sips from his beer bottle. “You want to come with me, and see how he runs the pack?”
“Am I going to hate it?”
Elliot shrugged his giant shoulders. “Hard to say.”
“I’ll come. What time?”
“Eight.” He tipped up his bottle again. “I’ll probably go for a run around six, then hit the shower and make us breakfast. You up for a morning jog?”
“Definitely.”
“Atta boy.”
Smirking, Callum took a chug from his bottle.
“Do you think you’ll find her here?”
Callum looked out at the dark trees. Lightning bugs glowed in the grass, and above, the night sky was bright with stars. He sighed. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”
He was in the right place now, he could feel it. But finding her. He had no idea how long that might take.