Page 13 of Destined Mate

“Holy shit,” Keith exclaimed. “That’s serious.”

Alex came around the desk and clapped Wesley on the shoulder. “Congratulations, little brother. The council must think highly of you to offer this chance.”

Wesley gave a half smile, feeling the weight of his brother’s hand on his shoulder and the enormity of what lay ahead. “It’s not just an offer,” he said, scanning the screen once more, as if the words might have changed since he last read them. “It’s a summons. One I don’t dare turn down.”

Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Turning down the council isn’t an option, not if we want to stay on their good side,” Alex said. “And this is going to take more than just muscle and teeth. Anya and Clive—they’re no amateurs.”

“Plus, there are others I’ve never heard of,” Wesley said.

Alex’s expression turned serious. “It’s risky, Wesley. You know what happens in these challenges. It can get brutal.”

“I know. But imagine if I win. I’d have my own pack. And I’d still be near my birth pack. I need to do some research on Cross Creek, I think. See if I even want to win this challenge.”

“Good idea,” Alex said.

Keith nodded in agreement. “I’m here for you too. I go where you go. You know that. Me, Duncan, and Theo.”

“I know, and thanks.” Wesley stood. “I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow. I need a moment, if don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Keith said.

“Absolutely.” Alex hugged Wesley as he walked by. “See you later.”

Wesley stepped out into the warm evening air. As he headed toward the forest, he noticed the first stars had appeared in the early night sky, and a sense of destiny wrapped around him like a cloak. This was more than a summons. It was a pivotal moment that would redefine his path.

He couldn’tnotanswer. He’d have to go to San DeLain and face whatever awaited him there. But before he did that, he needed to tell his parents. And shift. The human side knew what he had to do. Now he needed to make sure his wolf was on board.

His body tingled, a feeling that always preceded a shift, and awareness heightened as he moved toward the sheltered grove behind his house.

He had always found comfort in his wolf form because of the sense of power and freedom it brought him. Tonight, though, there was a heaviness to his stride, an unmistakable tension that mirrored the turmoil swirling inside him.

Reaching the solitude of the grove, Wesley stripped and let go of his human concerns and allowed his transformation to take over. His wolf, a creature of instinct and raw power, did not look at the world the same way as his human side.

The transformation was seamless, a fluid ripple of change that flowed through his body like water over stones. His limbs stretched and transformed, reshaping themselves with grace into a new form.

Muscles rippled beneath his skin as bones shifted, extending and realigning until he stood solidly on four sturdy legs, each one strong and sure-footed. His senses sharpened. Every noise seemed to be magnified, resonating with a clarity that was almost overwhelming.

The rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets were as distinct as if they were right beside him.

Scents drifted toward him in vivid detail—the earthy aroma of soil mingled with the sweet fragrance of end of season bloomingflowers. It was as if the world had turned up its volume and brightness, revealing layers of detail he rarely noticed in his human form.

Nature called to him, and his nose gave him the deets of the land and its inhabitants. His ears twitched at the rustle of leaves and the snap of twigs.

He trotted through the underbrush, his silvery white fur blending with the moonlight as he purposefully moved toward a clearing. It was a place where his family often gathered and made important decisions under the open sky.

The place had a sacred feel to it, imbued with remnants of countless meetings that had shaped his parents, his brother, and him.

Reaching the clearing, he raised his muzzle to the star-splattered sky and let out a long, resonant howl. This one was a call to his parents. The answer came swiftly, two strong howls responding—a unity in sound that bolstered Wesley’s resolve.

Moments later, his parents emerged from the tree line, their powerful forms graceful and imposing as they approached him. His mother, Elaina, was first to nuzzle him gently, her eyes reflecting moonlight and maternal concern.

His father, Merrick, stood slightly back—a towering figure whose approval was both sought after and silently given through his calm demeanor.

In this form words were unnecessary. Feelings flowed more freely through glances and gestures. Wesley leaned into his mother’s touch briefly, then turned to face them squarely.

He projected everything—the email summoning him to San DeLain for the Luna’s Summons, his worries about leaving them, and potentially leading another pack.

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