Page 184 of Broken Bonds
“Ah, let the cravings begin,” Dad teases.
When Shawn starts yawning his third muffin in, I send him to bed with his fourth muffin in hand while Dad, Pops, and I remain at the table to eat and talk.
“What the fuck is Sterling’s problem, anyway?” I ask Pops. “Does anyone know? Is he just some random asshole with delusions of grandeur?”
“Well,” Pops says, “for starters, he’s got an inferiority complex. Probably why he killed his own father.”
My eyes widen. “How did I not know that before now?”
“Hardly anyone knows it,” he says. “A guy who quietly left the pack about twenty years ago confided to me last week when all the arrangements for the refugees were starting. He heard what happened and approached me on the condition of anonymity.”
“I thought I heard Sterling’s father died in a car accident with one of his sons.”
“He did,” Pops says. “But the wreck wasn’t an ‘accident.’ This guy knew Sterling’s youngest sister back then, and she let it slip to him. She was terrified of her brother. She accidentally overheard Sterling talking about it with one of her other brothers. That brother was a beta, never would have been pack Alpha, and Sterling promised him he’d be second and always taken care of if he helped him off them. She quickly married out of the pack and moved to Europe, outside her brother’s reach.”
“Bet that pissed him off.”
“Oh, it did,” Pops gravely says. “She died in an ‘accident’ about a year later. Hit and run. She was walking, and the car didn’t stop.”
“Shit.” I stare at him. “He’s a special kind of asshole, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. As far as we know, those are the only direct relatives he’s offed. The rest of them fell in line immediately, and he’s ruled with an iron fist ever since. He took over as pack Alpha when he was thirty and has remained so ever since.”
“How did you manage to stay off his radar all these years?” I ask.
Pops smiles, but it’s the smile I’ve seen him use when someone’s pissed him off. “Probably because the fucker’s terrified of me.”
Dad laughs. “True story.”
I sit back. “How much history do I not know?”
They exchange a glance. “There’s a lot you never needed to know,” Pops says. “Like the fact that Dad’s mother’s mother was the sister of Sterling’s father’s mother.”
I attempt to do the familial math in my head when Dad says, “Cousins something-removed,” he says. “You and I are distant relations to Mal.”
“Which isn’t uncommon,” Pops continues. “Turn over enough rocks and most shifters of the same species will find common distant relations. Especially here in the States.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I say. “How do you know Sterling’s terrified of you?”
“Because about forty years ago, just a couple of years after he took over as pack Alpha, Sterling showed up at an unofficial gathering of some pack Alphas. He wasn’t invited, but someone spilled the beans, and he invited himself. Tried to throw his weight around. I literally picked him up and tossed him out of the house before anyone else could react.”
“That was ballsy of him to show up.”
“Well, he’s a delusional narcissist,” Pops says. “The meeting was between pack Alphas of found-family packs like ours. Some queer-centric, some not. All of them with more than just wolves as members. All of us forging alliances with each other. Sterling strutted in there thinking he would scare all of us into taking knees and showing throats, and he left with his tail between his legs.”
“But how did that make him afraid of you?” I ask.
He smiles—that smile. “Oh, that would be because of the vampire.”
My eyes must be saucers by this point. “What vampire? Marchman?”
“No, a relative of his, Renard Banks. He was invited to the meeting by me as a sign of respect and peace, because Sterling was making waves. We wanted to assure the vampires that we didn’t stand with Sterling, and we didn’t give a shit what they did as long as innocent people remained unharmed. That Sterling absolutely did not speak for us, and we had no beef with them. But as Sterling got to his feet right there in the front yard and turned, already starting to bark threats, he watched all four of the armed bodyguards who’d come with him instantly fall to the ground with their throats cut. Then Renard was standing behind him, the knife to Sterling’s throat, and asking why he shouldn’t just kill him, too.
“That’s when I walked over, stood in front of Sterling, and said if I ever so much as smelled him anywhere near our territories, I’d make sure all the vampires had his exact coordinates and they’d take him out. I guess his fear held, until now. Sterling’s obviously emboldened by his run for Congress.” Fury fills his features. “Which is likely why he’s targeting vampires, fae, and witches before he targets other shifters. He wants to shred alliances and instill fear.”
“And he wants to eliminate your backup,” I point out.
“That, too,” Pops says. “But he’s underestimated all of us and signed his death warrant. If it wasn’t for the fact that they don’t want the bad press, the vampires would have already taken him out. Unfortunately, no one knows what other plans or teams he’s got in place, and everyone’s scrambling to move and protect their people.”
