Page 88 of Marked By Alphas 2: Claimed

The circle fell silent. Above them, clouds drifted across the sun, casting the clearing in momentary shadow. In that brief darkness, Marcus could have sworn he saw something move between the trees—a flash of white, there and gone too quickly to identify.

“We should increase security,” Derek said, already reaching for his phone. “Johnson can have the full team on rotation by nightfall.”

“Do it,” Marcus agreed. “And add patrols around the manor. Kai doesn’t leave without at least two guards.”

“Already standard procedure,” Derek reminded him with a grim smile. “Though he hates it.”

“Better annoyed than endangered,” Marcus replied, though he could already imagine Kai’s reaction to even tighter security. Even as a tiny wolf, his mate had perfected the art of expressing exasperation through ear movements alone.

Elder Grey approached the brothers, her expression grave. “There is something else you should know. Something about this place.”

Marcus tensed. “What about it?”

“The Blood Moon ritual nine years ago—it was not chosen randomly.” She gestured to the stone circle. “This ground has always been a place of power. A crossing point between worlds.”

“We know the history,” Derek said impatiently. “Our family has protected this territory for generations.”

“You know wolf history,” Elder Standing Bear corrected gently. “But this land had guardians before wolves came. The stones remember older powers.”

“What are you saying?” Marcus asked, his patience wearing thin with the elders’ cryptic warnings.

“That perhaps the Blackwood attack nine years ago was not entirely of their making,” Elder Grey said. “That perhaps something else used their ambition, their bloodlust, to create the conditions it needed.”

“Something else like what?” Derek demanded.

Elder Grey exchanged glances with the other council members before answering. “There are old stories. Very old. About creatures that feed on supernatural conflict. That grow stronger with each drop of power-rich blood spilled.”

“Vampire legends,” Marcus dismissed. “Children’s stories.”

“All legends have roots in truth, Alpha Stone,” Elder Black Hawk said solemnly. “And the signs we’re seeing now—watchers in the woods, energy gathering around your mate, the pull that draws so many powerful beings to one place—they echo those old stories.”

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t hold the duel here,” Derek concluded. “That it’s too dangerous.”

“On the contrary,” Elder Grey said, surprising both brothers. “The duel must proceed as planned. The challenge has been issued, the response given. Pack law must be upheld.” She tapped her cane against the central altar stone. “But be vigilant. Watch not just for your enemies, but for what might be watching them.”

“And Kai?” Marcus asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice. “Should he still attend?”

“Your mate must be present,” Elder Redwood confirmed. “The bond requires it. But keep him close. Very close.”

The inspection continued with discussions of ceremonial positioning and security arrangements, but Marcus’ attention was repeatedly drawn to the tree line. Twice more he caught that flash of white among the shadows, and once what might have been a flicker of crimson.

As the elders prepared to depart, Elder Grey pulled Marcus aside. “Your mate’s condition—his inability to shift back. Have you considered that it might be protective rather than problematic?”

Marcus frowned. “Protective how?”

“Sometimes the body knows what the mind does not,” she said cryptically. “Sometimes it chooses the form best suited to survive what comes next.”

“And being stuck as a tiny wolf is somehow advantageous?” Marcus couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice.

Elder Grey’s lips curved in a slight smile. “Size can be deceiving, Alpha Stone. As can appearance. The smallest wolf may carry the most surprising bite.” She patted his arm. “Watch over him. But also, watch him. You may find your mate has more surprises in store.”

After the elders departed, Marcus and Derek remained in the clearing, conducting their own assessment of the grounds. Derek’s phone buzzed constantly with updates from his security team, each report adding to the brothers’ growing unease.

“Three more sightings,” Derek reported, scanning a text message. “Eastern perimeter. Johnson says they’re moving like nothing he’s ever seen before. ‘Like shadows with purpose’ was his exact phrase.”

“Poetic for a former Marine,” Marcus observed dryly.

“Johnson doesn’t do poetry,” Derek replied. “If he’s using metaphors, he’s spooked.”

---