Page 8 of Destined Mate

Then everything faded and Jerome’s vision, rich and vivid, flickered before his eyes like the fire itself—once more there were images of that alpha standing tall and fierce against the rogue.

In his mind’s eye, Jerome saw a blonde alpha, his stance defiant, his eyes burning with a fierce resolve. He faced another alpha who was larger, and his hair was as dark as the night sky without stars.

Jerome’s heart pounded when the challenger spoke because he knew that voice. It was the same voice that had claimed the pack and him in his first vision.

“My name is Wesley Valentino. I challenge you, Elmer Woodhouse, for the position of alpha of the Cross Creek pack. This pack deserves leadership born from respect and unity, not fear and oppression,” Wesley declared.

Then he smiled at Jerome, and those dimples appeared. Jerome was positive his heart melted a little. The rogue snarled, baring sharp teeth, but Wesley stood undeterred.

Then the vision shifted—a clash as inevitable as thunder following lightning. The two collided with a ferocity that shook the very roots of Jerome’s soul. Wesley was a white wolf, something that shocked Jerome. He’d never seen an alpha of that color before.

Claws struck and teeth sought purchase where they could find it. Yet through it all, Wesley’s resolve did not waver—if anything, it burned brighter with every exchange.

Jerome watched this spectral battle unfold, and just like the previous vision, Wesley was attacked while fighting the other alpha—something that should not have happened.

Then there were only bodies strewn around the stone circle, like before, and Wesley, his gaze burning into Jerome. The vision ended as suddenly as it had begun, leaving Jerome back in the dying glow of the funeral pyre.

His breath stuttered out as he replayed what he’d seen in his mind. Worry engulfed him as the last logs succumbed to the embrace of flames. These visions concerned him. Trouble was coming for them, of that he had no doubt.

As Jerome finally turned away from the pyre site, his cloak swirled around him as he followed the forest path leading back home.

Wesley Valentino, Wesley Valentino.He repeated the name, hoping to imprint it upon his mind. It seemed to echo through the trees, a mantra of strength and determination.

The moon above bathed the world in a silver glow, casting long shadows that danced around him. As he walked, Jerome’s thoughts bounced around in his head.

Li Li’s death had left a void, and the threat of Elmer Woodhouse loomed large. Fear and oppression were not a way to lead a pack, especially one like theirs. Li Li had not treated members in such a way.

But this Elmer Woodhouse would. And if he treated pack mates that way, how would he treat Jerome?

Not good, that’s how.

As soon as Jerome got to the pack house, he needed to hunt down Henry and inform him about this vision. Again, it might not come to pass, but this was twice now he’d seen Alpha Valentino facing off with the rogue, and that in itself was troublesome.

As he stepped inside, he spoke Henry’s name. That would be enough to get his attention.

“In here.”

Jerome entered the large living area. Henry, who had been sitting by the hearth, quickly turned his head toward Jerome.

“What is it?” he asked immediately.

Jerome took a deep breath, steadying himself. The pack house, usually a hub of warmth and activity, felt cold tonight. “I’ve had another vision,” Jerome said, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was silly of him to act like speaking louder might make the vision come true faster, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“It was of that challenge and the two alphas.”

Henry’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Again? That’s the second time in less than twenty-four hours.”

“I know. And this time I remembered names.”

“Good! That’s good.” Henry got up and walked over to Jerome. He hugged Jerome quickly, then stood back. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

“I don’t want to, but we need to prepare, especially if what I saw comes to be.”

“I’m sorry to make you relive it.”

“I know.”

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