by C. D. Gorri
“Shut it, will ya, Rafe? Now listen here, it needs to be you, otherwise we will have a war on our hands. I’d go myself but I’m out of the country with Grazi, headed towards your neck of the woods for the first meeting to place our votes for the office of High Alpha.”
“I see,” Rafe grew serious, “I understand there are a few names on the ballot.”
“Yes, my friend,” the old Irish Wolf responded.
“I want you to know, I didn’t ask to be named. Not even sure I want it.”
“And that, my friend, is why your name belongs there.”
“Thank you, Rolf. I will send one of my own guard to retrieve the Werewolf in question.”
“I appreciate that, my friend, and I will see you in a matter of days.”
“Safe travels,” Rafe Maccon, Alpha of the Macconwood Pack hung up the phone and rested his hands on the top of his massive desk.
His stomach tightened at the thought of the position of High Alpha. True, he was responsible for recent popularity in recalling the old position, but he wasn’t counting on being put in the running.
Still, he firmly believed it was in everyone’s best interest, that is it would benefit all supernaturals and normals, to have the position filled and soon. If there was one leader to represent the interests of all Werewolves, that could only serve to unite them.
Wolves were not out publicly, but that didn’t mean they weren’t invested in the world at large. Hell, there were over a quarter million of them across the globe, but because of petty squabbles there were no real records or means of communication.
It was a mess. One that needed rectifying. But as his Pack’s legal team, run by Kurt, Dib and Aleeza Lowell, had pointed out, a High Alpha raised problems of its own. In order for Wolves to submit to one person in order to create a cooperative, that would require Alphas the world over to admit that someone was more dominant than them.
That could be a real problem for some of their kind. Dominance was more than just pissing contests between Werewolves. It was a way of life. Challenges occurred not nearly as often as one would think, but occasionally, yes. Packs were sometimes dissolved and absorbed by their neighbors when their Alphas failed to do their main duty which was to protect what was theirs.
Rafe drew up the file Rolf had just emailed him on the Spark Claw Pack. What he found inside shocked and saddened him. Seamus Spark, should have been put down long ago. But that was the job for the High Alpha, and one hadn’t been chosen yet.
He would send Conall on the mission to retrieve the true Spark heir. The young Werewolf was cocky, that was true, but he was a damn fine Wolf Guard. He would execute the mission with speed and accuracy, Rafe had no doubts on that front.
“Hey,” he looked up to see his sweet mate enter his office and his Wolf pushed forward, as the beast was known to do whenever she was near.
“Carlotta,” he breathed her full name, refusing to give in and call her the nickname everyone used for her, Charley.
She was his sweet Carlotta. His most prized possession. True and fated mates were still rare, though they were popping up more and more these days. She would always have his entire heart and soul, well, she and their young. And as if right on cue, his three pups walked in following their mother as they usually did.
“Hi Papa.”
“Daddy!”
“Bark!”
“Valen is in his fur again?”
“Yes, he refused to Change back after his snack,” she tried not to smile, but he saw it in her eyes.
Their pups were unique for more than their unusual surprise multiple births, but also because they experienced their Shifts almost immediately afterwards. Typical Werewolves did not Change until puberty, but Valen, Owen, and Rafaella were not typical in any sense of the word.
He scooped the pup off the floor and held him by the scruff of his neck. It would not hurt him, but he had to know his father, his Alpha was talking to him.
“Change,” he commanded and moments later he was holding a naked squirming toddler.
“Thanks, love,” Charley kissed him quickly on the mouth as she scooped up their baby.
He growled, unsatisfied with the small peck on the lips, but her eyes promised more later, and so he was satisfied with that. For now.
“Did you do anymore thinking about the High Alpha?”
“I am still considering all the options,” he smiled at her.
“Mama, bath time,” squealed Rafaella.
He looked at his little princess with amusement as she stared in horror at the spot of sauce on her dress. He was surprised she had even left her clothes on with the one small speck of her lunch that marred the front. She was a bit of a perfectionist.
“Mama! New clothes please!”
“Okay, gang, let’s go to the bathroom. Bye, love,” she winked and left after them.
“My family,” he said to himself and love filled his chest.
Yes, he knew the world needed a High Alpha. He just didn’t know if he was right for the job. But first things first, he shot a text off to Conall. Sure, he always gave the mated Wolves in the Pack grief over their devotion to their spouses, but that was because he didn’t understand the connection true mates had with one another.
His antics had annoyed everyone time and again, but in truth, Rafe felt bad for him. After all, a single Wolf only thought he was happy. Real happiness came from knowing and claiming the one person in the universe meant for you, and you alone.
Rafe leaned back in his chair and waited, grinning when he heard his mate yell at the Werewolf in question. Nothing turned him on like hearing his Carlotta tear into one of their own. She was a true Mama Wolf, even though she was a normal.
Just listen to that woman go! He sighed in appreciation. Love for his mate was addictive as it was satisfying.
Poor Conall. He didn’t know what he was missing.
Chapter 1
“Come on!” Conall growled as he caught the rock before it connected with his forehead, “I didn’t mean it.”
“That is the last time you will say things like that in front of the pups, Conall Truman!” growled Charley Maccon, Alpha female of the Macconwood Pack.
The fact that the tiny woman was a normal, didn’t stop her from growling with the best of them. Dang, his Alpha fem was one scary woman. Especially when she went all Mama Wolf on his ass. Her pups, Owen, Valen, and Rafaella giggled with glee as their mother chased him around the yard hurling rocks and berating him for using curse words in front of the three mischievous tykes. But what could a guy do?
“Charley, it wasn’t my fault,” he tried, but she threw another rock at his face, and this time, it almost hit him!
“I said, no cursing in front of the pups, didn’t I?” she growled and bent to retrieve another sharp piece of gravel.
“Well, technically a itch with a b in front of it is a female dog, so, it’s not a curse word,” he tried to reason, “besides, they can’t even pronounce it correctly.”
“Bwitch!” Val yelled.
“Bwitch,” Owen clapped his hands and repeated their version of the word he was not supposed to say in front of them.
Well, shit. Wasn’t that cute? He grinned but dropped the expression when it looked like smoke was coming out of his Alpha’s mate’s ears. Uh oh.
“Hey now, boys, is that anyway to talk?” he pretended to scold the young, even though he thought it was hilarious when they goofed the curse word.
“That’s it!” shouted Charley.
“Eeep,” Conall squeaked as a sharp rock hit him right on the ass.
Damn, she had a good arm! He was Wolf enough to know when he was outgunned, and since he’d never raise a hand or claw to his Alpha fem, the blonde-haired Wolf ducked behind the three little pups for safety’s sake. Okay, so he was afraid of Charley. Anyone in their right mind would be.
He knew their mother wouldn’t throw a rock anywhere near them and he was gratified to see Charley drop the stone she’d been ready to hurl and plac
e her hands on her hips. Conall smiled and grabbed the two boys, holding them like little human shields. Little Rafaella walked up to him and placed her two chubby hands on either side of his face.
Uh oh. He should’ve known the female would not be happy that he picked up the boys and not her. Uncle Conall was in for it now. He shook his head and tried to get her to stay quiet, but that gorgeous blue-eyed Rafaella simply gave him a little smile before she turned around and found her mother.
“Mama, Uncle Conall said bwitch two times afore,” Rafaella told her mother with that impish grin that always melted his Wolf’s heart.
It’s how she always got away with sneaking more than her fair share of ice cream and sweets whenever Uncle Conall watched the pups. But, dang it, the little she-Wolf tattled on him.
Oh well. He should’ve seen it coming though. Really, he should’ve picked her up and not her brothers. Typical female, wanting all the attention, and usually, she got it. Gorgeous little thing.
“Rafaella, how could you?” he moaned.
“Sowwy, Uncle Conall, but cursin’s not ‘llowed, right Mama?” the little pup nodded at her mother.
“That’s right, baby,” Charley smiled and walked over, scooping up her little girl and smacking Conall on the head at the same time.
“Bring the boys in for their bath,” she ordered, and he followed hoisting the giggling pups like footballs under his arms.
Dang it. The woman was a true Alpha fem and something of a Wolf whisperer truth be told. Most normals dismissed the massive creatures as stray dogs if they ran across them, but Charley was able to spot a Werewolf, and what’s more, she could sometimes communicate with them in Shifted form.
That was typically something only Wolves could do and with each other under the right circumstances. Like if they were Packmates, and if they were in their fur. It always freaked him out a little when his Alpha fem was inside his Wolf’s head.
“Yes, Charley,” he said in his best apologetic tone, “so, is there anything I can do to get you to maybe not tell Rafe about this?”
“Conall, you know I don’t have secrets from my mate,” she smirked as she ran the water into the kids’ bathtub, testing it between her fingers before stripping them down one at a time and plopping them in.
Rafaella went first, of course, followed by her two brothers. It was funny how the boys never complained about that. Almost like they knew she was the Alpha in their little sibling triad. Females sure were scary. Even when they were barely three.
“Mama, toys!” shouted Valen.
“Yes, Mama, pwease!” added Owen.
“Can you grab the toy basket?” Charley asked him, and Conall turned around and hoisted the thing over to the side of the large tub.
He laughed as he gathered their favorites. With so many aunts and uncles to spoil them, the triplets had more than enough playthings. After each of the pups had their share of bath toys and water crayons, Charley turned to look at him with her arms crossed. Shit. Conall knew that face. He was in trouble now.
“So, do you still think all mated Wolves are whipped?”
“Oh, uh, Rafe told you that?” he cringed and shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
Conall had been a bit outspoken about all mated Wolves losing their man cards at the last family dinner at the Manor and in his Alpha’s office. What could he say? Being mated was seriously nothing to look forward to as far as he was concerned.
“My apologies, Charley, I mean if I found someone half as amazing as you,” he started and she splashed him and pointed to the door.
Conall got the drift. She wasn’t buying his bullshit at the moment. Who wanted the same old hamburger every night? Conall loved variety too much for that. He still lived on the premises and took his position as a trusted Wolf Guard seriously. Unlike some of his other Packmates, that was his only job.
He did not dabble in anything else. He was a fitness freak and master martial artist. Keeping up with his Wolfish physique was demanding. He also worked on training some of the younger Wolves in the Pack. Something he did out of the Macconwood-Nighthawk Teen Outreach Program as a sort of community service.
He had money. Every Wolf Guard had stock in Graves Enterprises and his quarterly earnings were more than he could ever spend in this lifetime. He did try though. Motorcycles, mountain bikes, speedboats, fast cars. You name it.
Conall often felt that need for speed. His Wolf was highly active and it took all sorts of activities to satisfy the beast. And when he was on the prowl for a little adult action, well, let’s just say he was fond of variety.
No strings. No emotional attachments or commitments. One night only. But he made sure the women he bedded knew the deal and were more than satisfied afterwards. It was the least he could do.
Besides, he couldn’t see any one person being nearly as important as his position as an honored and trusted Wolf Guard of the Macconwood Pack. It meant the world to him. Even if it mostly involved him doing whatever Rafe wanted or needed him to.
Whatever. He was down. Conall would follow his Alpha into the trenches and had done so many a time. Yes, he often played the clown, but that wasn’t all acting on his part. He really was a fun-loving kind of guy.
Life was short and time was precious, even for Werewolves. Picking up women was a challenge he’d always met with glee. Of course, just lately he found himself going it alone, since most of his Packmates were now mated.
Sad growl.
Knock it off, he told his Wolf sternly. The silly animal was getting ideas about females he’d rather not cop to. After all, he was a confirmed bachelor with a reputation to protect! Imagine how sad the women of the tri-state area would be if he was off the market?
He couldn’t do that to them. It was far better to be single. Still, he was careful in his trysts. He might be a cocky fucker, but Conall never led anyone on, he never brought anyone home with him, and he never used the forbidden “l” word.
When he spent the night with a woman it was their place or a motel. Home was sacred and for family only. Not that he had one of his own. An unexpected jolt of pain racked his body and he steeled himself against it.
Conall was not that guy. Not hardly. He had Pack and that was all the family he needed. He smiled as the triplets splashed and watched as Charley lovingly cared for them. Shampooing hair and rinsing off little fingers and toes with the gentle touch only a mother could give.
He wouldn’t know. Conall didn’t remember his parents. He’d been raised by an older member of the Pack as had been the custom when Zev Maccon was Alpha. That cold bastard had been more interested in breeding soldiers than in raising family.
It was amazing Rafe was half the man he’d turned out to be. And that was why when Conall was home, he tried to give the Alpha family as much space as he could. It wasn’t hard given how the Macconwood Manor was a veritable fortress with several private wings, and even guest houses dotting the landscape.
As an unmated Wolf Guard, he enjoyed a series of rooms in the center wing that left him close to the main entrance, and to the Alpha family. In fact, he was probably the closest adult to the three Wolf pups save for their parents of course. The rest of the Guard were all mated except for Kurt and Liam.
What could he say? Conall loved kids. They were just so easy to get along with. No secrets or lies. Totally open and honest. He even looked forward to all the rest of his Packmates who were expecting pups this year, and maybe someday, even his own.
But that was years away. For now he had plenty of honorary nieces and nephews on the way! Sherry and Seff were expecting their first pup or Witch soon, though he suspected the baby would be some special blend of Witch and Shifter that would make even the Elder’s Trust of Witches shit a brick. Served them right for trying to make the Morrigan into their own broodmare to ensure her magical line’s continuation. The asshats.
Then there was Randall’s and Tulla’s newest addition, Marjory Graves made her appearance earlier this year, and with her big brother Daniel
growing up, it was nice to see the family so healthy and content. Randall definitely deserved happiness.
Even Cat and Tate announced plans to start trying to have pups of their own. And that was one dude Conall never saw having pups. Tate was as strait-laced as they came. In fact, he’d only ever seen the older Wolf smile when he looked at his blonde-haired mate. Then again being mated to the Alpha’s sister was probably not as easy as they made it look. Still, the couple was good together.
Damn. All his wingmen were mated! How was he supposed to chase tail now? Liam was more interested in trying to work his way up the Wolf Guard ladder and everyone else was taken. Except for Kurt. But even Conall didn’t get his sense of humor.
Conall sighed and rolled his shoulders as he wandered down the hallway. Giving Charley plenty of time to care for her pups, but not wandering too far in case she needed something. Three tiny ride-on cars sat parked on the hall rug, and Buttercup, Charley’s old pet cat, sat perched inside the pink one.
The little beast growled at him as he walked past, but he knew better than to take that hellacious beast on. Freaking cat was a menace. It was official, the Manor was becoming a regular romper room.
Good thing Conall thought it was awesome. All the kids and, yes, even the pets livened the place up. Even better, he was able to indulge his paternal instincts without the baggage of having a mate.
Score two points for him! Conall had no desire to be shackled to one woman for the rest of his life. Not yet anyway. There was still plenty of time for that. He was young and unattached and enjoyed going out with different women.
Of course, it had been a while between his dates. So, he was a little gun shy. It wasn’t like he didn’t have reason to be. After a certain vinyl wearing female Vampire had tracked him down, he’d been sort of laying low.
Who knew that his Wolfish charms were irresistible to bloodsuckers? Oh well, poor thing. He’d given her a taste of his prowess, but once the whole blood exchange thing came up, he’d hightailed it out of there.
