Page 6 of Enemies By Fate

“The things I do for you, Poppy,” she grumbles, and I laugh.

“That’s why I love you best. I’ll call you tonight when I get home, all right?”

“No! I want you to text me when you get there, too. I want regular check-ins.”

Groaning, I agree. “Yes, mother,” I taunt her.

“Careful,” Circe warns me. “Or I will tell your mother.”

We say goodbye, and I realize my heart is pounding in my ears.

Run, Poppy, run!

My father’s voice calls out to me again in a whisper, but this time I’m wide awake. It had never been a dream, but a distinct memory, a warning, a premonition. My father has been reaching out to me from beyond the grave, trying to make me remember what I had long forgotten when Sadie found me wandering around these very woods at age twelve.

But it’s coming back to me again in a torrent, the lost years of my life, the missing puzzle pieces Sadie had likely kept from me for my own protection.

It’s like I told her earlier, though. I’m not a child of twelve anymore. I’m a fully grown woman, and I don’t need to be sheltered.

The Bloodstone Alphas killed my father, and I’m not hiding from that truth any longer.

I’m not suicidal, but I might be homicidal when I see the beasts responsible for making me an orphan.

Chapter 2

Warrick

Bass from one of the many stereo systems echoes rhythmically across Watts Bar Lake, luring the flames of the bonfire higher toward the full moon rising overhead. All around us, shifters over the age of fifteen sway to the beat of the music, the darkening of the night settling them deeper into the mood as they succumb to their most primal urges, transforming into their beastly shapes. Feathers and fur drift through the air, carried on the breeze. Laughter and playful banter echo over the moonlit waters as bonds are forged and business is conducted among the packs, intertwining with moments of enjoyment.

I shift my weight uncomfortably in the wooden Adirondack chair, and look around the stony shore of the lake for a prospect to take home tonight, but the same faces filter by, no one captivating my interest even though I’m raring to go. Having experienced them in my bed before, none of them warrant a second date, the need for fresh blood in the packs never more obvious to me than at this minute.

At this rate, we’ll never find our mate.

“You know it’s a party, right?” Malachi taunts me, catching the expression on my face.

My gaze drops to my left and settles back on my youngest brother, his eyes glittering against the flames of the bonfire. Unlike me, he’s got his sights on at least three separate candidates for the night. Knowing Malachi, he’ll end up bringing them all back to the estate together, if only in an attempt to satisfy the unfulfilled void inside him.

“A party, huh? The thousands of shifters milling around kind of gave it away,” I reply dryly, meeting my youngest brother’s steely blue stare.

“Then why do you look like you swallowed a beehive?” Malachi shoots back, draping a muscular leg over the arm of one of his chairs. “You realize you’ve attended one of these every month for almost fifteen years, don’t you? But you always act like they’re somehow offensive to your senses in some way.”

I snort and sit forward, shaking my head. “I do not!” I deny, relishing the warmth of the bonfire’s flames, despite the heat of the succulence of the Tennessee air around us. “I always host them, don’t I? When do I ever complain?”

“You don’t have much of a choice,” Malachi replies, nodding toward Asher who half-grins, settling against the high back of his respective chair as if he agrees with our sibling’s assessment. “It’s expected.”

I don’t know if he’s right or wrong. It’s my job, after all, hosting these events and maintaining pack order. It’s what a good Alpha does. But given a choice, what would I be doing? It’s hard to say. I barely remember what the nineteen-year-old kid liked to do before he was thrust into the role of Apex pack leader.

Would I rather be running through the woods on a hunt like our ancestors? I seem to remember enjoying that.

Of course we don’t do a lot of the same things that our ancestors did, not anymore.

My brothers mock me for longing for a piece of something that once was, even though we’d never experienced it ourselves.

Asher says my fascination stems from reading too many romanticized history books, that life wasn’t really much better back when our hierarchy had been different, before the triads of Alphas reigned over the world.

Centuries ago, someone in their so-called infinite wisdom decided that certain Apex bloodlines of brothers created an unshakable foundation of authority, replacing the singularly ruled territories with the system of triads we have today.

Now, each state bows to their own triumvirate of Apex Alphas. While ordinary packs maintain their own territories and Alphas, none dare challenge the supreme might of these brotherly triads or their precious shared mate—the one female, powerful enough to balance and bind their energies together to truly enforce that power entirely. Assuming she ever revealed herself.

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