Page 12 of Destined Mate

“You say that jokingly, but you know how your brother is,” Keith said.

“Which is why I said that. So? What’s up, Buttercup?”

Wesley groaned. “Why didn’t your sense of humor grow with you? Anyway, it’s an email from the council.”

“Shit, seriously, what did you do, and do I need to get Dad?” Alex asked.

“Fuck off,” Wesley huffed as he sat down at his desk. “I didn’t do a damn thing, so both of you can bite me.”

“It’d be like biting old leather,” Keith responded. “So, no thanks. Also? Ewww.”

“Why are you my best friend again?” Wesley asked.

“Just lucky, I guess. Plus, I’m one of the few not afraid of you.”

“There is that.” Alex stood next to Keith and elbowed him. “We all know what an ass he can be.”

“Both of you shut it and let me read this.” Taking a deep breath, Wesley opened the email.

This is a Luna’s Summons addressed to Alpha Wesley Valentino. Let it be known that Alpha Li Li of the Cross Creekpack of San DeLain has fallen due to a hunters’ attack. We seek now a new alpha to guide and protect the pack through darkest times and lightest days. By blood-rite challenge, we summon thee to prove thy strength and heart. ~Council of Wolves

Detailed instructions accompanied the message—specifying the exact location for the gathering, preparations to be made in advance, the identity of the head beta who would oversee proceedings, and the current alpha mate. Most crucially, it outlined who else might respond to this call.

Familiar names flew past as he scrolled, each one carrying a story of its own. Among them was the third alpha daughter of the Blackwater Ridge, Anya Frost, a formidable figure known for wielding her strength like a runaway hurricane.

Her reputation was one of raw power and unyielding determination. The Blackwater Ridge pack, known for its resilience and fierce loyalty, was situated near the bustling city of Las Vegas, a place where the arid desert met the vibrant pulse of the Strip.

Also mentioned was the second alpha son of the Whispering Lakes pack, Clive Osborne, whose presence was as subtle and lethal as a stealthy predator navigating the darkness.

His movements were soundless, his intentions formidable. The pack, known for their keen instincts and strategic prowess, was based in vibrant and sprawling Austin, Texas, where the urban landscape met the wild.

Then there was him, Wesley Valentino, the second alpha son of the Moonshadow pack. His formidable pack resided near the sun-drenched city of San Diego, California, which wasn’t far from San DeLain.

Their name was a tribute to their extraordinary fur, which glimmered like liquid silver under the soft glow of a moonlit sky.

There were other names, of course, that he did not recognize: Sienna Alcrest, a lone wolf who roamed the misty, evergreen forests around Seattle, Washington.

Then there was Franko Shaw, another lone, packless wolf who prowled the vibrant, sun-drenched streets and beaches of Miami, Florida.

Altogether, there were seven names, including his, called to answer the challenge.

This was no casual offer; it was a summons from their leaders. It had arrived by email, of course. The days of sending wolves out to hand deliver summons were past. This was the twenty-first century, after all.

The summons carried not only a challenge but also a binding agreement with destiny. Accepting meant entering the arena to confront formidable opponents in a contest where strength and strategy, and ferocity and cunning, would collide.

Death was not out of the realm of possibility.

Wesley sighed. The timing truly couldn’t have been more perfect. His brother, Alex, stood poised to take on the role of pack heir, and he would undoubtedly make an outstanding alpha.

Alex was already bonded with an exceptional werewolf named Sissy, whose kindness and strength complemented his leadership. Together, they were expecting a pup, a new life that promised to bring joy and hope to the pack’s future.

Wesley would never assume leadership of their pack unless his brother was killed, or he challenged for it. He cherished his brother deeply and couldn’t fathom the idea of fighting him for the position of alpha. The very thought of competing against his sibling, whom he admired and respected so much, was unimaginable to him.

“Well?” Alex asked.

“I can’t decide if he’s excited or constipated about whatever he read,” Keith complained. “His face often looks the same for each.”

“It’s a Luna’s Summons.” Wesley leaned back in his office chair and read the email to them.

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