Red River (Pack 2)

“If you truly care about Purple Sky the way an Alpha should, you will put the pack first and you won’t try to force yourself on them as their Alpha when you aren’t who they want,” Paul said. Wesley must not have hidden the pain those words caused as well as he’d hoped, because Paul’s expression and voice softened. “Once you calm down and think about this logically, you’ll agree that trading yourself for an Alpha from Red River is the best way, the only way, to ensure a future for Purple Sky.”

Wesley didn’t need to calm down to think logically. He was an Alpha so, just as he had his entire life, he would do what was best for the pack. Even if that meant essentially selling himself to give the pack an Alpha they actually wanted.

Chapter 2

“You don’t have to do this yet. If you need more time—”

“Red River doesn’t have more time.” Jobe Root sighed and looked at the gorgeous land surrounding his home. Dark green grass, tall, healthy trees, and a peek of the river that ran through their territory.

“Jobe. A mate is a gift from Mother Nature. It should make you happy.”

The sadness in his strong mother’s voice nearly undid him. He didn’t dare turn around and meet her eyes.

“I’m fine.”

The porch floor creaked, letting him know she was approaching.

“You’re not fine, and even if you were, fine isn’t enough. Take your time.”

“I’m thirty-three, Mom. There is no more time.”

“Of course there is.” She placed her palm on his back. “I was almost a decade older than you when I mated and the pack is prosperous and happy.”

She was right about their prosperity. Mother Nature took care of them, blessing their land with offerings that allowed all their members’ needs to be met. But Jobe’s connection to the land and the pack allowed him to see the slight declines. The air wasn’t quite as crisp, the flowers not as fragrant, and the gold and oil that supported them not as plentiful.

“You know Mother Nature is warning us. Even I’ve felt it.”

As one of the current Red River Alphas, Eran Root was even more sensitive to their surroundings than Jobe, so she couldn’t have missed the subtle changes. She was also well aware of her age. Maintaining the connection between shifters and land at age seventy-six was already a struggle and his Alpha parents would suffer more with each passing year. He refused to even consider what would happen to the pack if one of them passed before he could step into the role. And to do that, he needed his mate.

“She’s reminding us,” his mom corrected. “But Mother Nature is patient. She gave your father and I time to come together and you’ll have time to be with your mate too.”

Despite not having been born during the years his parents had met, mated, and bred him, Jobe was very familiar with what his pack had endured. He had heard from elders about the late hours working, day after day, with much less to show for it. He knew fewer people had found their mates, leaving pack members of age alone and frustrated. And the nearly nonexistent number of shifters born in the five years before him spoke to the most terrifying decline in Red River’s prosperity—an inability to conceive. For as long as he could remember, he had been told of the joy and celebration surrounding his parents’ union and his birth because, with the continuation of the Root line, his pack flourished once again.

Reading beneath the surface of the happy story, told a tale of the despair that had come before it. It was a lesson Jobe had taken to heart as a young boy and he had promised himself that, unlike his parents and ancestors, he wouldn’t wait for his fated mate to appear in Red River. He would leave their homelands and search for his other half so they could join together young and save his people from fear or suffering. But despite his best efforts, he was now thirty-three and without his mate, and Mother Nature had started whispering her warnings. Jobe had learned from history what happened if those whispers weren’t heeded before they turned into shouts.

“Everything will be fine, Mom.” It had to be. “Tonight we’ll say goodbye to Brian Berger and wish him well on his new journey.” Jobe clasped the porch rail, closed his eyes, and tilted his head up, enjoying the breeze blowing through his hair. “And tomorrow, my mate will arrive.”

“What time are you leaving?” Jobe asked, staring up at his wood-beamed ceiling.

“Soon as I wake up.” Brian tilted his beer bottle to his mouth and finished off the amber liquid. “It’s a long-ass drive.” He stretched his arm toward the couch, groaning as he reached for a pillow. “Hand me another beer.”