Page 3 of Fated
“You won’t.” Asher’s voice left no room for doubt.
Caleb glanced up, meeting his beta’s steady gaze. There was no doubt there, only unshakable confidence.
“And even if you stumble, we’ll figure it out,” Asher continued. “This summit isn’t just about rogues or alliances. We’re Selene’s first pack—Her chosen. It’s time to remind the others what that means.”
Caleb’s gaze drifted to the map of their territory, mind conjuring the faces of his pack members, their livelihoods, andthe families dependent on his decisions. The enormity of that responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders.
Can I really do this?
“I’m an untested alpha who’s barely navigating the oversight of our own pack’s elders.” Caleb drummed his fingers against the book. “I couldn’t even convince the council to change our patrol routes. How am I supposed to stand among alphas who’ve been groomed since birth to maneuver in this political landscape?”
Fenrir paced the confines of Caleb’s mind, hackles raised, claws scraping against his consciousness.“We don’t have to go. We can be strong alone.”
Caleb pushed Fenrir to the edge of his consciousness, feeling the wolf’s displeasure like a cold spot between his shoulder blades. He swallowed hard, fears of inadequacy echoing back at him like a challenge. “What if I bring disruption to our people and danger to our lands?” The questions hung in the air, a tangible presence that pulsed with his own heartbeat.
“You’re ready, Caleb. Trust me.” Asher pressed his forehead against Caleb’s, grounding him in the moment. “And you’re not doing this alone. Whatever happens at that summit, we’ll face it together. Like we always have.”
Asher’s words sank into him like sunlight into cold earth. The tension that had returned to Caleb’s shoulders during their conversation finally broke. The vise grip around his chest that tightened with each moment spent studying the summit dossier dissolved, allowing his breath to flow freely again.
Caleb’s doubts echoed a familiar uncertainty he’d faced as a teenager thrust into rapid preparation for his role as the future alpha after his parents’ deaths. He’d faced the council’s scrutiny as they’d questioned not just his ability to lead but whether the alpha bloodline should pass to Garreth, his father’s beta. But Asher had stood beside him, unwavering, and faced themall down. His words had been a shield Caleb hadn’t known he needed:“Then it’s a good thing he’s not standing here alone.”
That truth remained unchanged, a constant that anchored Caleb with Asher’s consistent confidence, just as it had all those years ago.
“Thank you,” Caleb murmured.
“Always.” A slow, knowing smile that hinted at pleasure ahead spread across Asher’s face. “Now, let’s get to work. The sooner we’re ready, the sooner we can get to my originally planned evening activities.”
As Caleb watched Asher review the schedule and directives, a sensation both familiar and frightening tugged beneath his ribs, waiting to be acknowledged.
Their bond transcended traditional pack hierarchy. Asher wasn’t just Caleb's second; he was his lover. Their relationship had become a symbol of Crescent Fang’s ethos, power flowing from partnership rather than dominance. Though not fated mates, they embodied Selene’s intention: strength through unity, wisdom through balance.
Caleb exhaled, a small smile breaking through the tension. With Asher by his side, the summit no longer seemed like a burden. It became an opportunity to remind the world of what the Crescent Fang pack—and Selene—stood for.
CHAPTER TWO
LENA
The metallic tang of blood flooded Lena’s mouth as Cian’s fist caught her jaw—a split second too slow on the dodge—sending a hot shock of pain radiating through her teeth. Her wolf, Elara, snarled beneath the surface, but something else caught her attention: the usual spark in her brother’s attacks was missing. Instead, an undercurrent of anxiety threaded through his cedar-smoke scent.
“Getting sloppy.” Cian’s golden eyes—so much like their father’s—caught hers. A forced calmness masked the edge in his tone. “You’ll never make warrior status like that.”
Elara paced just beneath her skin like a fever, the itch of fur almost breaking through as her instincts latched onto Cian’s hesitation.
“He’s holding back.”The wolf’s low snarl dripped with frustration.“Push him harder. Make him fight like he means it.”
“You’re the sloppy one.” Lena feinted left, scenting the shift in Cian’s balance, then drove her fist toward his exposed ribs. The satisfying thud of connection brought a grin to her face. Copper waves escaped her braid as she pivoted. She’d inherited their mother’s beauty—the red-gold hair and sun-kissed freckles that set her apart from Cian’s darker features—but when she pivoted for another strike, their father’s signature move flowed through her limbs, mirrored in her brother’s stance.
“Getting distracted, brother?” The corner of her mouth lifted.
“Never.” Cian blocked Lena’s follow-up strike but hesitated, a fraction of a second where his usual fluid grace stuttered. Not sharp enough. Not focused. Elara pressed closer to the surface, alert to the undercurrent of tension thick enough to taste.
A low whistle cut through the evening air.
“Cian, if she keeps landing those hits, you’ll be the first alpha in history with a permanent limp!” Ryker called from the sidelines. The future beta’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief, grin sharp as he laid back, lazily resting on his elbows.
Cian barked a laugh, dodging another strike from Lena. “I’d like to see you step into the ring with her and come out unscathed.”
“Nah.” Ryker ran a hand through his perpetually messy dirty-blond hair. “I’d rather keep this pretty face intact. Some of us need more than raw power to get by.”
