Thirsty (Black Wolf Pack 1)

By him.

Tucker.

The one male who’d always fascinated me since the moment I first saw him. It hadn't been any kind of sexual feeling until I turned nineteen—the year of maturity for shifters. And once that happened, I felt this kind of awakening move through me. But he never noticed me in any way but as the Alpha’s daughter. He didn’t look at me with any kind of curiosity or desire or anything like that… until the day I turned nineteen, and I felt this massive internal shift within me.

It was like someone or something poured gasoline on my desire, and I was burning alive with this need.

And the only person I wanted to help ease that was Tucker.

I glanced out the large window of the small cabin that was used for meetings concerning new constructions on the property. The pack was thriving, but our numbers weren’t that great, seeing as no one ever left, and that meant mates weren’t being found and babies weren’t being born.

I didn't want that for my life. I wanted to explore the world for the simple fact that I didn’t know if I’d ever find my fated mate within the pack. On the heels of that thought, I thought of Tucker, imagining him working on the new longhouse in nothing but a pair of jeans, a tool belt around his waist, all his muscles flexing and moving under golden, sweaty skin.

“Mia, sweetheart, are you even listening?”

I snapped my head in my father’s direction and nodded, although I had no clue what he’d just said. “Yeah. I understand. Sounds good.” I felt my cheeks heat as the lie rose up my face and I blushed.

He lifted a brow and leaned back in the chair, the leather creaking. The desk in this little cottage was huge, and I swore it was half the size of the cabin itself. But then again, males in the pack were massive.

“What did I just say?” His lips twitched as he asked the question, and I looked at his desk, seeing if there was any clue to what he was talking about.

“Um,” I murmured. “The longhouse?” It was a good place to start, since that's what was the most pressing thing happening in the community right now.

“What’s on your mind?” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on the table, this gentle look crossing his face. “I’ve noticed for the last month you’ve been distracted. What's wrong?”

The last month… since the moment I turned nineteen and something changed in me. The moment I felt desperate for Tucker.

I smoothed my hands down my jean-clad thighs and shook my head. “I’m fine. I’m good. Just distracted by all the work going on.” I licked my lips, trying to keep the lie believable. My father stared at me with knowing eyes. He didn’t believe me. He knew me too well, knew my mannerisms and could probably scent the lie in my words as clearly as I had.

He cleared his throat and leaned back again. “Okay. If you say so.” He steepled his hands in front of his face, watching me.

Even though my father was in his forties, he looked like he was in his late twenties, as did all the males in their prime in our pack. They wouldn't start really aging until much later in life, wouldn’t start showing signs of a decline in their health until they were almost ready to pass on from this world.

And at the thought of that, of losing my only parent, my father who’d also had to act as a mother to me after mine died giving birth to me, the very thought of him leaving had my heart aching.

I wanted to tell him about this exciting change in me, but I was afraid. As the Alpha of our pack, my father couldn’t—wouldn’t—show emotion in front of others, and sometimes that extended to me by default. He couldn’t, because it would be mistaken as weakness, and that was a dangerous, slippery slope. He had to always be strong, stoic... powerful.

And I hated that.

I hadn’t known my mother. But I knew he loved her very much, that they were fated mates, and I also heard from other pack members who’d known my parents that he’d been different before she passed away. He’d been full of life, had a joking personality, was playful. Then after the fact, he changed. He’d grown hard and cold toward anything light, happy, anything that would make him smile. I knew losing a fated mate was the worst thing to happen to a shifter, whether it was a bear, wolf, or any other creature in our world.

I knew he was missing his heart, and I wished I could make things better.

“Sweetheart,” he said low, deep, and I blinked a few times, realizing I’d zoned out as my thoughts consumed me. “I can smell your sadness. I know what you’re thinking about.”