Page 2 of His Brazen Mate

Drake’s eyes traced the letters, his father's familiar handwriting a stark reminder of the guidance he had lost. The distillery, Northern Lights Bourbon, had been the pride of his family for generations. His father had nurtured it with the same care he’d shown to their clan, his dual roles intertwined like the roots of an ancient tree. Now, both were Drake’s to protect and lead.

The weight of the responsibility pressed down on him, the familiar floor beneath his feet feeling unsteady. The clan needed a leader, and the distillery needed a master distiller. He doubted his ability to fill either role, let alone both. His dragon stirred within him, a restless presence echoing his uncertainty. The transformation from naval officer to master distiller was more natural to him, but still it would take some getting used to. He had long ago accepted that and had allowed his father to teach him, but leading the clan was another matter entirely.

The wind rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the faint scent of the bourbon aging in the distillery's oak barrels. It was a comforting, familiar aroma, yet now it seemed to underscore his sense of loss and duty. The clan members had looked up to his father, their alpha, with unwavering respect. They expected the same strength and wisdom from Drake, but he feared falling short.

He stood by the French doors, looking toward the distillery. "Am I ready for this?" he murmured.

The silence that followed was heavy with unanswered questions. His dragon, usually a source of strength, offered no clarity. Instead, it mirrored his turmoil, the fiery essence flickering uncertainly within him. His father's words, ‘Trust the fire within,’ seemed both a comfort and a warning.

Grief welled up, bringing with it an unfamiliar fear of inadequacy. His father had always known what to do and had always seemed unshakable. Drake's memories of him were of steadfast leadership and quiet confidence. Could he ever live up to that?

The clan’s future and the legacy of Northern Lights Bourbon were now intertwined with his destiny. The path ahead was daunting, filled with expectations and responsibilities. He wished for his father's guidance; to have one more conversation to ease his concerns.

Drake turned away from the French doors, the letter still clutched tightly in his hand. He took a deep breath, drawing strength from the land that had been home to his family for centuries. The fire within him flared, a reminder of his heritage and his potential. His father believed in him, even in death. Perhaps it was time he started believing in himself too.

‘Trust the fire within, for it knows the path you must take.’

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

CHAPTER 2

DRAKE

Drake flew through the crisp morning air, his powerful wings cutting effortlessly through the sky reveling in the freedom of flight. The sun blazed overhead, casting a shimmering light on his emerald-green scales. As he soared above the dense forests of the Alaska Peninsula, the world unfolded beneath him in a tapestry of greens and blues.

The acrid scent of burning wood reached his nostrils and then he saw a thick column of smoke. His heart raced as he recognized the ominous signs of a wildfire. Looking ahead, he saw the flames moving steadily toward the city of Kodiak, the inferno threatening to consume everything in its path.

Drake banked sharply, climbing higher to get a better view. As he ascended above the billowing smoke and dense clouds, he spotted a lone figure against the sky. A female drakaina, her scales a combination of ice blue and silver, was battling the fierce winds, her wings beating with determined force as she tried to shift the direction of the flames.

He could see her struggling, the strength of the fire and wind proving too much for her alone. Without hesitation, Drake angled his wings and flew to her side beating his wings with the same cadence as hers. She glanced over at him, their eyes meeting for a brief moment, a silent understanding passing between them. No words were needed.

The combined force of their efforts began to take effect. Slowly, the direction of the wind shifted, pushing the flames away from the vulnerable city. The wildfire, though still raging, was being diverted toward a less threatening path, away from homes and lives.

The heat from the fire was intense, even at their altitude. The smoke stung Drake’s eyes, but he pressed on, driven by a deep sense of duty and the unspoken bond with the drakaina beside him. Together, they flew with precision, their combined might gradually steering the wildfire to safety.

As the fire finally shifted course, Drake felt a surge of relief. Since the immediate threat to Kodiak was over, Drake banked away, using the clouds and smoke to cover his departure. He didn’t know the drakaina and was not in the mood to meet or deal with anyone outside of his clan. Making his way through the cloud cover and hot, steamy smoke, he descended rapidly and at great speed, leaving the scene and drakaina behind.

Drake stood before the grand entrance of the distillery, the place that had been the pride of his family for generations. The familiar scent of aging oak barrels and fermenting grains wafted through the air, a comforting reminder of his heritage. But today, he returned with a heavy heart, his mind clouded with the cryptic message he had found earlier.

As he entered his father's old office, now his own, it felt as though someone had been there who shouldn’t have been. There was nothing out of place, but he felt there was. Drake tried to shake off the feeling but couldn’t quite do it. Looking closer, he noticed a neatly folded note lying with just a corner showing from beneath the desk blotter—its presence subtle yet striking. Drake’s heart quickened as he retrieved the paper and unfolded it. The note was typed with stark black letters standing out against the white background:

‘Your father’s death may not have been accidental. Look deeper.’

His pulse pounded in his ears as he read the words over and over. The implications were chilling. He had accepted his father had died in a car accident, but now, he questioned whether it had actually been an accident. Determined to get to the bottom of this, he decided to speak with the authorities in their offices in Chignik.

“I understand in your grief that you may have some concerns,” said the state trooper. In this part of Alaska, law enforcement, including investigations, falls to the Alaska State Troopers.

“My grief is not at issue here; the cause of my father’s death is. I haven’t even been able to get a cause of death on his death certificate.”

“You have to understand that unless there is a reason to suspect foul play, we issue a provisional death certificate so the family can bury their dead. It is done as a courtesy to the family. If an investigation warrants it, we can always exhume the body…”

The state trooper droned on and on, and Drake tuned him out. At the time of his father’s funeral procession, he hadn’t even thought about the death certificate. Now, it sounded as though there wasn’t anything he could do—at least not legally or officially.

“Do you have a reason to think your father’s death was anything but accidental?” asked the trooper, catching Drake’s attention.

“Nothing I can put my finger on, but I’m used to being in the military, and until they were convinced they had all the information they needed…” Drake had the note in his pocket but could not bring himself to show it to the state trooper.

“If you’d like us to exhume the body…”

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