Page 1 of Daddy's Mail Order Mate

Prologue - Thorn

“If you ever want to see them alive again—”

The voice coming in over my headphones turns into a shrill scream.

I stare at my laptop, tracing the blurry pixels of the men’s faces as the shadowy scene turns to violence. One of them shifts into a huge black wolf and lands on another with a long growl. Even the old security camera microphone picks up the distinctive crunch of tooth cracking through bone as the victim wails in pain.

With a grumbling sigh, I pause the video and lean back into the couch.

Yet another group of rogues needing to be dealt with. It was lucky that the council was able to cover this particular incident up, but I’ll need to hunt down the rest of them and handle them accordingly. It seems as though shifters are getting more and more reckless these days just from the amount of investigations we keep having to do. Between keeping our society hidden from the human world and maintaining order among the packs, the council’s work is never done.

Which meansmywork is never done.

I've been working in this city for almost a year now. After I helped my sister Paige handle that mess with the Portsmill Pack, it seemed as though the council was inclined to keep me busy far from home. This apartment was one I’d been using off and on for the past few years, as there was always something that needed the council’s attention in urban centers like this. Packs tended to prefer quiet rural communities away from prying eyes, which made it easy for rogues to stir up trouble in the city.

I do wish I had more opportunities to go see my sister and niece, but my work was an integral part of making sure that they could enjoy a peaceful life.

I’d just need to trust that her mate would actually take good care of them while I wasn’t around.

A surly noise slips out of me at the thought of Liam. He wasn’t all bad, and had been doing his part to prove himself as an Alpha and a husband. But I could never rest easy about him, not with my sister’s happiness in his hands.

Just as I think about getting up to go make some coffee, my doorbell goes off.

I stand up and silently swipe my everyday carry knife from the coffee table. As I walk, I slip it into my back pocket, just in case. You can never be too careful, and I’m not expecting anyone.

The digital doorbell’s screen shows a lone woman standing at my door. There’s what looks to be a baby held in one of her arms as well, and I can hear it whining a bit through the door.

I know her from somewhere. My memory hums hurriedly to life, trying to put a name to the face staring dead-eyed straight ahead. Green eyes… A dark freckle right on the edge of her lower lip…

I straighten and open the door by confused instinct.

“... Vanessa?”

“At least you remembered my name,” she mutters.

The thread-bare looking woman in front of me is a far cry from the one I met months ago. She worked at a bar across town behind the bar. I’d commonly stake out there, as I was looking into a trafficking ring for stolen shifter girls. She was gorgeous,though beauty alone failed to move me. It was her sly charm and barside banter which had gotten me inclined to take her right back to this apartment one night. Once that case got wrapped a few days after our tryst, I’d needed to leave town for two months to handle another pack violently crumbling apart. By the time I made it back, I never really thought to make it back to that bar.

But there was none of her usual sleek makeup and flattering fashion that had caught my eye. Instead she is swimming in some oversized clothes and squinting at me beneath a ball-cap with dark circles under her eyes and a pallor to complexion.

She must have hit on hard times, coming to get help from a casual fling with a baby in tow.

“Something I can help you with?”

A bitter laugh sparks out of her with a paper thin smile.

“Yeah, actually.”

And then she holds out the baby towards me, arms fully extended, the little thing squirming restlessly.

“Take this.”

I stare at her with mounting confusion, even though my arms automatically reach out. I’ve gotten used to being handed a baby, what with my sister giving birth a few months ago.

And as I take hold of the little one and bring them close, something shocks through my system like lightning.

It is a realization that is so profound and unexpected that it feels like terror. I know the truth before the words come out of her mouth.

“It’s yours.”

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