Page 29 of Pack Ruin
I nodded. “Like Ivan’s wand. Wait, what about Brand’s eyes?—”
“Moonblessed,” she stated severely. “Mother Moon blessed him, just as the old stories mention. There was no magic involved, do you understand? Magic and the moon’s blessings are not the same.”
Something was off in her tone. Was she lying? Not exactly, but she was hiding something. Her mouth worked again, and I let it go. “Gotcha.” I reached to pick up the book, my thumb landing on the catch. “Ow!” Something, a sharp tooth or splinter of metal in the design, had cut my thumb. A droplet of my blood welled up and landed on the hinge.
The metal closure released with a tiny click, and the book flipped open to the front page, as if an invisible hand had moved it. I stared down at the beautiful pictures, wolves and moons, that decorated the edges. They were lovely, but the title on the front page was the last thing I’d ever expected to see. Verona leaned over, peering at the page along with me. I read the words silently, but when I tried to read them aloud, she tapped my lips with one finger.
What the hell?I raised an eyebrow at Verona.
She just reached over and closed the book. “No one knows this exists, not even my son. It was left here by a shifter who shouldn’t have been allowed to cross our borders. He was defecting from...” She swallowed hard. “In any case, he left us and went to Northern, and stayed.”
“Have you read it?”
“I couldn’t even open it.”
I stuck my already-healed finger in my mouth, disturbed at that thought. “Why are you giving it to me?”
Her voice trembled as she replied, “Because I believe it belongs to you. To your line. But Flor, no one can ever know you have it.”
I nodded dumbly and tucked the book into my pocket, the words I’d read humming in my mind, over and over, like a spell. The words and the oddly familiar name that had been printed on the first page, and the spine.
Western Witchcraft, Eastern Wolfcraft: The Journal of Sergeant J. Rain of the Western Pack.
14
A Waste of a Life
BRAND
My little mate didn’t understand why I’d challenged my father. I wasn’t sure I did either. But when my grandmother had explained to Flor the movement of power, and how it was once driven by the moon, something had hummed inside me, like a tuning fork, perfectly on pitch.
This was right. This moment, how it was unfolding, was precisely what was needed to… to what? I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. I was committed now. The fight would begin in only a few minutes.
“Brand! What’s happening?” Voices I’d known my whole life called out to me, concerned. Shifters had run all night, traveling across mountains and crossing rivers to arrive in time. It was obvious some of them didn’t eschew all the modern conveniences like Dad, since I’d heard motors and even a small helicopter that landed only miles away from the Den. The pack was coming, thousands of them, the air humming with anticipation and fear.
I knew why. My father was an exceptional Alpha. He’d shown how to lead a pack with wisdom and care… and how to keep leading, even in the face of devastating loss. I feared our pack would need those lessons even more, if what I’d heard from Glen was true. He’d called his brother Patrick on Dad’s sat phone, who had shared that Northern was preparing for war.
Both Bradley and Margarette were being held in an unknown part of the Mansion at Eastern, and no one—not even Patrick—had been allowed to speak with them. As Dad had told us, they were being formally investigated by the Council. When Patrick had asked which Council members had voted to incarcerate his parents, he’d just been told a majority of the remaining Council members had agreed.
“Dad would never have done that, and neither would Dean,” I’d assured him. Dean, who wore the title of Mountain’s Head Enforcer when necessary, would never go along with the McDonnells, or Torran. “It’s a lie.”
“I know that,” Patrick had snarled. “But McDonnell is a snake. He claimed Eastern and Southern both voted to lock them up. It was two against two, and Aidan as Council Head had final authority.”
Snakes indeed. After Luke had been incapacitated, McDonnell had appointed Torran, his Head Enforcer, to the interim Alpha position at Southern. Though Torran didn’t have the Alpha’s authority, he held the vote for Council purposes.
Even if I won the challenge tonight, I would not have a vote on the Council until I joined it. And to do that meant pledging allegiance to Aidan, putting myself under his power. So the only option to free Bradley and Margarette, and get a fair hearing for Glen and Flor, was war.
War… or perhaps, if we could somehow bring Luke back from the brink of death, he could cast his vote and stop the investigation. Without Southern’s support, Aidan would have toallow a trial. Even though there was no way of knowing if he would follow the law, as a sworn member of the Council, he had to, or he would end up like my father. Dying.
“Brand?” I heard my mate calling out over the massive crowd of pack members who were gathering in the field behind the Den. Of course, she was one of the shortest shifters in the throng, and I couldn’t see her.
My wolf snarled inside, hating that. We should always be able to lay eyes on our wildflower. It helped us to keep her safe.
“Mate?” I roared back. A hush fell over the noisy crowd as she made her way toward me, her bright red hair shining like a beacon. Like a field of grass being blown by wind, the shifters she passed dropped to one knee in a rippling wave, acknowledging her.
Flor’s face was bright red by the time she reached me. “What are they doing?” she hissed, obviously uncomfortable.
“Honoring my mate,” I replied before I picked her up and kissed her thoroughly. “You’re the future Alpha Mate of this pack, my love.”
