Dark Wolf (Claimed by Wolves 3)

It’s not that I didn’t hear him, but I can’t think of anything else to say.

“Malcolm was a good man,” Trystan says, looking slightly uncomfortable in his own skin. Open displays of emotion still aren’t really his thing. “At first, I thought it was fucked how you, like, tag-teamed the whole alpha thing. But I didn’t know, you know? I didn’t know better. But I see why you did it now.”

I jab at the button to set the coffee brewing, then turn to face him fully. “You do?”

“Yeah. The pack needed Malcolm. Hell, they were lucky to have him. Fucking great leader. Really.” He pauses and brushes a hand back over his hair, then blows out a breath before he catches my gaze. “They’re lucky to have you too, man. And you’re going to be a great alpha even without him here to lead with you. You were great together. But you’ll be great alone too.”

I catch sight of Sable over his shoulder, her blue eyes trained on us. She’s sitting at the kitchen table, though she looks like she’s on the edge of her seat, ready to jump up and join us at any minute. I wonder if she jumped to conclusions like me and thought Trystan was going to say something stupid.

Instead, he just said exactly what I needed to hear in this moment.

He nods once as if to punctuate his statement, then offers me a hand to shake. “Anyway. Just thought you should know.”

“Who the fuck are you?” I give a low chuckle as I clasp my fingers around his. This isn’t at all like the Trystan I used to know. This man is different. More humble, more aware of the people around him.

“Yeah. I ask myself that every day lately.” He rolls his eyes with a snort. Then he glances over his shoulder at Sable, and a small, warm smile spreads over his face. “She’s changed me.”

“She’s changed us all,” I agree quietly. “For the better.”

Before I even notice her move, my mate is out of her chair and wedging herself between us. I don’t have a chance to let go of Trystan’s hand before she’s kissing him, and I laugh at the extremely obvious sense of pride she feels toward him.

Then she turns and kisses me. I feel Trystan step closer to her, enclosing her small body between ours, and as I lose myself in the feeling of her lips on mine, I wonder for a moment what I did to deserve this.

My dad may be gone, and the sadness he left in his wake won’t go away anytime soon. But I’m happy with this woman in my arms, with these other alphas who share her with me. And I’m determined to keep the people I love safe. It’s what my father would want.

It’s what I want.

I want to end this war with the witches once and for all.

The East Pack meeting house is still packed to the brim with visiting North and West pack shifters, so when I call a meeting of the elders from the three packs, I invite them to meet with me at my father’s now-empty house.

It’s weird to be here so soon on the heels of his death. My father’s presence is everywhere in this house—in the art on the walls, in the choice of furniture, even permeating the air as his scent lingers in the space.

I hate it and love it all at once.

We barely fit in his dining room. The oldest of the elders from each pack are given preference for seats at the long wooden table. Ridge, Dare, and Trystan haul in extra chairs from the meeting house and set them around the room, until only a few of us remain standing. Then I stride to the head of the table to speak. I’m nervous to lead this dialogue, but Sable’s smile and encouraging nod from the other side of the room where she stands with Amora gives me the strength to start.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for meeting with us tonight,” I say, my voice low and serious. “I’m glad to see you here, and I wish you peace in the wake of our shared tragedy.”

A rumble of agreement passes among the elders.

“Getting back to the business of running our packs is imperative,” I add gently, “though I know many of us are still grieving. First and foremost, I want to make it clear that you are welcome on East Pack lands for as long as you desire to stay. And in that vein, I wanted to begin a discussion about the future of our packs.”

The room is silent. More than two dozen pairs of eyes are fixed on me, and my heart beats quickly as I broach the delicate subject.

“I propose that our three packs remain together indefinitely,” I say before I can lose my nerve. A ripple of surprise passes over the elders’ faces, but I forge ahead. “Together, we are stronger, as we saw while battling the witches yesterday. We could certainly split up again—you could return to your respective lands, and we’ll maintain our treaty, stay in touch, support one another as we’ve always done. Or… we could become one.”

I let them murmur to each other for a few seconds before continuing.

“We mustn’t forget the truth. This fight may be over, but the war isn’t. The witches won’t stop, and they’ll likely return one day to finish what they started. At that point, in my opinion, I believe we would be better served by remaining together, rather than being separated by so much space.”

A few of the elders look thoughtful at that, and I wonder if any of them have ever considered this possibility. I hope they have. It’ll make it easier to convince them it’s the right choice.

“Alpha Archer,” one of my own elders calls out. Elder Carter, a man my father considered a great friend. He eyes me appraisingly, almost proudly. “I’d like to second your motion for us to remain as one cohesive pack.”

“It would be a logistical nightmare,” Elder Marianne states. She’s one of mine too, and always pragmatic, so it doesn’t surprise me she’d leap directly to the question of, how the hell will we all fit in one village?

Ridge clears his throat and steps up to stand by my side. “Alpha Archer, if I may?”