Page 85 of Understanding Fate

“We are going to lose everything. We can’t win,” I whisper so quietly I don’t think she can hear the words.

“How can I help?” Her voice is small, and I still jump when I hear it.

“You can’t. No one can. Deacon Marlo wants my territory, my Second’s Mate, my demise. He won’t stop until he gets it, and everything falls apart every time I try to get ahead. We're going to lose Pres. We can’t win this war with everything stacked against us,” I pause, never looking at her.

I’ve never felt more defeated in my life. No allies, no second, not enough resources,

“Dad trusted me to keep them safe, and I can’t. I can’t do this,” I finish and let myself wallow in this feeling for a moment.

“Dad was right to trust in you. You have been an excellent Alpha since he passed. These are unprecedented circumstances, and I think if he were here, he would choose to stand up and fight. You’re not alone, D. You don’t have to do this all by yourself. We are here and ready to fight by your side. Have some faith in us,” she says, and I look up into her eyes, which match our mother’s, and see conviction there.

“I’m leading them to their death,” I say, pain settling in my chest.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she responds, and I can feel the resolve running through her.

“It’s too late; the bad guys will win,” I say, trying to prepare her.

“Dad used to say the only difference between good and bad men is the reason they fight. We fight to save our pack. He fights for power. If we are still breathing, there is still time to find a way. We just need to change his reason,” she says before walking out of my office, looking more like herself than I have seen in days.

It’s nice to see her fire, but I know that the only thing Deacon Marlo has ever wanted was control of our pack. He said as much the day of my mother’s funeral, and now, twenty-two years later, he’s coming to collect on his threat.

Chapter 35

Bri

This has been a shitshow ever since we arrived.

We didn’t make it three steps into the headquarters building before enforcers threw silver handcuffs on Cain and took him away.

My treatment wasn’t much better, but I’ve been placed in an interview room.

So much for fighting this together.

Bri: Are you ok?

I send, feeling for him through the bond.

It’s been hours, and no one has come to talk to me. My connection to Cain has been muted somehow, and my wolf is starting to worry.

He’s fine.

Then why isn’t he answering?

My inner argument is cut short when two men walk into the room.

I don’t recognize either of them from the last time I was here, and I feel my wolf at the ready.

That’s new.

“Ms. DelaCourt, I’m Enforcer Jones, and this is Alpha Martin. We’re here to take your statement,” the man says, addressing the second man with a deference that makes me realize he is the superior of the two.

Jones appears to be in his early thirties, over 6’ tall, with ash blonde hair and deep-set brown eyes. A dusting of facial hair lines his jaw, which appears to give him a more rugged appearance but does nothing to take away his boyish good looks. In contrast, Martin is older, in his early sixties at least, and a shorter, burlier man who reminds me of one of the dwarves from Lord of the Rings, though he is of average height, around 5’9. His wild, auburn hair is barely tamed by the tie at the base of his neck, and his beard nearly reaches his navel.

What an odd pair!

“My statement?” I ask, not hiding my surprise while doing my best to remain calm.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, sitting at the table across from me.

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