Page 1 of Brody
CHAPTER1
ROZI
I plucked my ringing cell from my pocket and frowned at the unknown number flashing on the screen.The airport’s recycled air prickled against my skin as I pressed the phone to my ear.“Hello?”I answered, my voice sharper than intended after hours of travel.
“Hello, Dr.Rozi Dhahabu.This is Quinn Bane,” he said, his deep voice carrying authority without aggression.
“Nice to finally hear your voice, Alpha Bane,” I replied.
“It’s just Quinn.No formalities, Doctor.”A hint of warmth softened his tone.
“Well then, just call me Rozi, not Doctor.”Someone nearly sideswiped me with their oversized luggage, the corner missing my hip by inches.I shot them a dirty glare, my cheetah’s irritation flaring beneath my skin.“I’m waiting for my luggage.I’ll meet you outside in a few.”
“I’m not outside.”Quinn’s voice tightened, the alpha’s control slipping for just a moment.“I’m dealing with a situation.Word leaked about your arrival before I could announce it properly.”The background noise on his end shifted, voices arguing, a door slamming.“There’s resistance.Direct quote ‘We don’t want Tabia Dhahabu’s granddaughter in our town experimenting on our unmated males.’”
A familiar pressure built behind my eyes, the beginning of a migraine I’d felt a thousand times before.I pressed my fingertips to my temples, my grandmother’s shadow stretching across states to find me even here.My cheetah stirred restlessly, a low growl rumbling through my consciousness.
“Tabia’s reputation strikes again.”The bitterness in my voice surprised even me, the words sharp as broken glass.“Tell me, Alpha Bane, did you mention that I haven’t spoken to my grandmother in fifteen years?Or that my research directly opposes her methods?Or that I’ve dedicated my life to ensuring shifters keep their ability to shift, unlike her pharmaceuticals that trap them in human form forever?”My free hand clenched into a fist, nails digging crescents into my palm.
The story of my life.Abandoned by my father at ten.Raised by a mother who chose research over parenting.Orphaned at seventeen when she died and Tabia couldn’t be bothered to take me in.
Money bought education but not belonging.Two doctorates and a medical degree funded by a trust fund that felt more like a consolation prize than an inheritance.Now these strangers judged me for a last name I’d only kept out of spite, blind to the fact that my neural stabilizers were designed specifically to counter my grandmother’s pharmaceuticals—to preserve shifters’ true nature, not destroy it.
“The Ridge is divided about your arrival,” Quinn explained.“Some Council members support your work, but Shane and Gertrude are leading the opposition.”
“The honey badger– and ferret-shifters?”I asked, recalling the OIA—Others Intelligence Agency—briefing.My eidetic memory flashed images of their profiles across my mind.Territorial, conservative, stubborn.
“Good memory.”Quinn sounded impressed.“Shane’s spreading conspiracy theories about your intentions while Gertrude questions your credentials.Both despise anything that challenges tradition.”His voice turned resolute.“I’ve called an emergency town hall for five thirty today.”
I glanced down at my wristwatch, the worn leather band a comforting constant.It was a little after 4 p.m., barely enough time to prepare.
He continued, “Townsfolk need to hear directly from you about your research.”
I sighed heavily, my shoulders sagging with exhaustion.“Fine.Nothing like public speaking after twenty hours of travel.”The sarcasm didn’t fully mask my anxiety.“Perfect first impression.”
Standing several feet back from the baggage carousel, I watched the crowd mill about.My body was a throbbing mess of pain from being crammed in several planes for hours, every muscle protesting, my lower back a special kind of agony.The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too harsh against my sensitive vision.I hadn’t expected such a large crowd in such a small airport, one town over from Black Forest Ridge, Alaska.I watched people get elbowed or bumped in the knees by someone lifting luggage, the cacophony of voices, announcements, and rolling wheels creating a sensory assault that made my inner cheetah retreat deeper inside.
“So I guess they don’t know the OIA specifically connected us because of your request for help with eighteen unmated males in the area showing various stages of pre-feral progression?”I asked, lowering my voice and turning toward the wall.My brain was already cataloging symptoms, treatment protocols, and neural pathways.
“Most folks here have a complicated relationship with federal agencies,” Quinn said with what sounded like a grimace.“Even ones designed to help us.”The OIA was the federal organization that oversaw and protected Others—a society of witches, vampires, shifters, and other supernatural beings living alongside humans who remained blissfully ignorant of our existence.
“The OIA approached me because you requested specialized help,” I reminded him, scanning the crowd automatically for anyone paying too much attention to my conversation.“And they knew my research could potentially address the pre-feral crisis happening here in Black Forest Ridge.”
Quinn sighed.“And we’re grateful for that.But not everyone trusts outsiders easily, even when they come bearing solutions.”
I had been knee-deep in my research at Emory University but hitting a wall; theoretical models only went so far without test subjects.When the OIA approached me about coming to Black Forest, excitement had tingled through me like an electrical current.After years of rejection, of laboratory doors closing at the mere mention of my Dhahabu name, of Tabia’s relentless smear campaign, here was Quinn offering me access to eighteen actual pre-feral shifters at different stages.A researcher’s dream and a desperate community’s hope rolled into one controversial and, apparently, highly volatile package.
“From what I’ve read in the OIA brief,” I said, spotting my luggage emerging on the carousel, “hasn’t the mating spell only brought four fated partners to Black Forest?And all of them have been mates for your pack?”I pointed out, my mind already analyzing the statistical improbability.
“Freya’s spell was cast to bring the fated mates of all the unmated males in our territory,” Quinn responded, a growl edging his voice.“It’s bullshit to imply anything else.”
“No need to get snippy with me, Quinn.”Alpha or not, I didn’t put up with that nonsense.My own inner predator bristled at his tone.“I’m merely stating facts.According to what I’ve been told, the last fated partners the spell brought to your territory were Imani, Nova, Aurora, Seraphina, and all were mates of your pack brothers.”The names rolled off my tongue with clinical precision.
“Well… yes.”His reluctant admission carried through the phone.
“How exactly does this spell work?”I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my skepticism.Magic and science had always existed in an uneasy alliance in my world, quantifiable results from forces we couldn’t yet measure.
“Freya calls it an alteration of destiny’s path,” Quinn said.“The spell doesn’t create mate bonds that don’t exist.Even the strongest magic can’t force souls together that weren’t meant to be paired.It simply reveals connections the universe has already determined, making it more likely that fated pairs will cross paths.The spell just gives fate a little nudge.”
