Prologue
Paranormal unions (also referred to colloquially as matings, claimings, bloodings, soul mates, etc.) are recognized at the discretion of a government-appointed Union official. Without a notarized certificate (referred to as a “Bonding License”), the union is not officially recognized. As such, the Paranormal will be denied the rights and privileges as outlined in this ordinance.
Once a Paranormal union is formalized, finalized, and notarized with the aforementioned “Bonding License” issued at a government-approved Union office, both parties involved (Paranormal/Paranormal or Paranormal/Human) must agree to dissolve it before presenting their petition at a Department of Paranormal Regulation (D.P.R.).
The only true release from an official union is with proof of death in regards to one or more party in the Paranormal union.
— Ordinance 7304
Section IV, Part ii
1
As Colton Wolfe resisted the urge to smash the expensive new smartphone in his hand, he had an epiphany: finally claiming his fated mate and bonding her to him had caused his older brother to lose his Alpha damn mind.
It was the only excuse for his out of character behavior. Seriously. Why else would Maddox think it would be a good idea to bring up this same old shit again?
Five months. It had been going on for more than five months. Considering how slyly Maddox slipped it into their conversation, Colt was beginning to think it wouldn’t be over any time soon.
And, since smashing his phone meant he was out as much as his last commission, he knew he needed to rein in his temper. Still, he wasn’t about to budge.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“Just what I said, Mad,” Colt snarled into the phone. “Answer’s fucking no. So drop it.”
His brother’s bark of laughter came through the speaker. “Come on, bro. It’s just dinner at my place.”
Sure. Dinner at the house in Wolf’s Creek where Maddox lived with his mate... only Colt wasn’t a moron. He knew damn well that there were strings attached to this invite. He could go for a free meal, but he wouldn’t be the only guest.
“Is she gonna be there?”
“Ang? Of course.”
Colt growled.
His older brother was, like him, an alpha wolf. His age and his role as future Alpha put Maddox higher in the pack hierarchy; in normal circumstances, Colt would never growl at Maddox unless he was gunning for a scuffle. With the phone acting as a buffer between them—plus his brother’s obvious meddling pissing him the hell off—Colt didn’t try to swallow the angry sound.
Maddox laughed again. “Guess you meant someone else, huh?”
“Yeah.”
It took a little effort, but Colt managed to dial back some of his aggression. No matter how shitty his situation had been lately, he’d suck it up and deal with it ten times over if only to hear his brother’s light-hearted laugh.
Three years. More than that, since the accident that nearly broke his brother beyond repair happened in June and it was late November now. Okay. Three years and a handful of months and Maddox was only just starting to laugh again.
Colt didn’t blame him. First, there was the accident: the terrible crash that left everyone believing that Maddox’s beloved mate, Evangeline, was dead. Then there was the Claws Clause, the ridiculous Para ordinance that said Maddox, as a surviving bonded shifter, could either lose his bond, lose his life, or lose his freedom as a result of her death. Maddox chose the Cage and, for three years, he was collared and jailed in the paranormal prison.
And, Colt had to admit, Maddox took it pretty hard when that obsessed witch tossed Colt out of the window and, you know, nearly killed him back in June.
But he survived. It might’ve been a rougher recovery than it should’ve been, thanks to her. Whatever. He was all better now and there was absolutely, positively, no way in hell that he was sitting down to dinner with a witch.
Even if she was the most gorgeous—
One thought. That was all it took. One stray thought of her dark hair, her purple eyes, her sweet smile, and Colt’s body reacted. His heart thudded in his chest, his palms growing slick with sweat, while his cock started to harden.
You think he would’ve learned a little control by now.
Nope.
“Come on, Colt. You can’t keep avoiding her forever. I was thinking we could invite her for a meal. The two of you could start over, maybe explore what’s between you.”
There was already too much tying him to Shea Moonshadow. That, as Maddox well knew, was the problem.
A suspicion struck Colt. “Was it your mate’s idea?” he demanded. “She put you up to this?”
“My Angie might have mentioned that it would be nice to see Shea again.”
He gritted his teeth at Maddox’s casual use of her name. He could barely bring himself to think it, let alone say it, in case it riled up his possessive wolf. He had his beast locked down, totally leashed as he pushed to get his bond with the witch erased, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the wolf’s absolute need to claim its mate.
His cock was a hard length of steel beneath his jeans. It was a constant reminder that, despite what his stubborn mind thought, his body was all aboard the mate the witch train.
As if Maddox could sense his struggles over the line, his brother asked, “So, how’s your dick?”
He palmed the budge with a heavy hand, trying to tame it even though it was pointless. “Why are you suddenly interested in my dick? Don’t you have yours to worry about?”
“Mine’s fine. My mate loves it. And, once you give in and actually start to get to know your mate, your dick’ll be fine, too. Trust me.”
Colt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and bit back his frustrated howl. “Can we not talk about my dick, please?”
“How about dinner?”
His eyes sprang open. “Pass.”
“Suit yourself. I’m still gonna see you tonight, though, right?”
“Tonight? What do you mean, tonight?”
“There’s a mandatory pack meeting back home. Sundown. Alpha insists. You have to be there.”
Terrence Wolfe was the Alpha of their pack. Colt knew better than most that he only called pack meetings when it was important—and when it affe
cted the pack as a whole, including the shifters who didn’t live within his territory. If Maddox said Colt had to be there, he had to be there.
Alpha’s word was law. No one argued with the Alpha—especially if he was their father.