Page 7 of Enemies By Fate

Which it didn’t seem like ours ever would—at least not in this crowd.

“You couldtryto enjoy yourself,” Malachi offers. “The upside to being an Apex Alpha is there is no shortage of bedmates for any of us.”

He turns his angular chin slightly, and one of his doting admirers hurries over to offer him a drink which he accepts, flashing the over-eager female a quick but dismissive smile as I turn my attention back toward the growing crowd. It’s a good turnout tonight, but it always is. Every pack is expected to attend our monthly events, although not every shifter from every pack attends. But unlike some Apex Alphas, we don’t follow-up on absent attendees. There is no one taking attendance or following up the day after. I, for one, have more important things to do than wonder why someone didn’t bother coming to one of our parties.

“It’s not aboutyou,” Malachi argues every month when I refuse to follow up on attendance. “It’s about showing disrespectto the Apex pack. It shows which Alphas are running a tight ship and ensuring their packs are following protocols.”

“That’s their problem, not ours,” I insist.

“It becomes our problem if it spirals out of control!” Malachi is relentless, his need to be heard irritating. He never thinks he is being heard, which only makes him louder. There’s no question my youngest brother has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about the order in which he had been born. He always thought he would have made the better firstborn and makes no secret about it.

I roll my eyes, refusing to die on this hill where Malachi is concerned. “Thenyoucan spend your precious time tracking them down and punish them for their insubordination. I have an Apex pack to run.”

But it turns out that Malachi’s concerns are unwarranted. Everyone always shows up to our parties, regardless if we’re checking or not. Shifters want to attend the full moon parties.

From the opposite end of the bonfire, Asher sits up unexpectedly, his blond head twisting oddly. My calm sibling’s abrupt movement catches me off guard. “She doesn’t belong here,” he says simply, pointing a slender finger outward.

In tandem, Malachi and I turn to follow Asher’s gaze, his tone concerning me. Asher rarely has much to contribute under normal circumstances, his peaceful disposition speaking for itself. The peacemaker amongst us, Asher, does his best to diffuse, not incite. A bombshell like this is worth hearing out, particularly when these bonfires are open to all shifters. Asher is not one to stir the pot for no good reason.

“Who?” Malachi demands, his head pivoting left and right, nose raised as he tries to sniff out trouble with his dragon instincts.

But I’ve already got her in my sights. I don’t know how Malachi missed her. I can feel her in my pores, even from where she is, and I can barely make out her features properly. Energyvibrates around me, the pulse of the party increasing as I jump gracefully to my feet.

“Stay here,” I tell my siblings, but the rush in my ears blocks their responses, if they answered at all. I can’t hear anything but the roar of blood in my veins.

Suddenly, I have tunnel vision, and all I can do is fixate on her.

Who is she?

My tongue juts out to lick my lower lip, my prowling instincts heightening, but I’m not on guard… not exactly. A fusion of desire and curiosity meld inside me, propelling me forward as I look to the sky for a celestial event.

Could this be her? Is she the one we’ve been expecting?

But nothing out of the ordinary happens, not really, except to say my pulse will not slow down.

Asher’s right; she’s not one of the usual suspects, or I would have noticed her before. She’s too beautiful to have missed in the past. Her strawberry red tresses stand out among the common faces, the strands tousled and reaching her ribs, high cheekbones flawless and free of makeup. Even from here, I can see how blue her eyes are, the color rivaling the depth of oceans.

She’s ill-at-ease, uncomfortable. I can already smell the wariness permeating off her skin.

“I’m coming, too,” Malachi says, but I whirl around, baring my half-formed fangs at him. The sudden gesture startles him.

“I said I’ll deal with her,” I growl.

My brother squares off with me, but what he sees in my face forces him to relent. His steel-blue eyes darken, a scowl pinching the corners of his cheeks as he looks over my shoulders.

He can’t stop looking at her, either.

“Just give me a minute with her,” I say again, lowering my tone, heat creeping up my neck.

Overhead, thunder rumbles, and the crowd murmurs in dismay, but the moon blazes brightly, unobstructed but for a film of haloed, crimson clouds. Blinking, I look up again, but there’s no sign of rain anywhere.

I must have imagined the thunder—or it’s just my heart pounding again.

Scowling, Malachi flops back down. “Whatever you say, oh, mighty leader,” he mutters sarcastically.

I ignore him and head toward the stranger, angling toward the outskirts of the crowd now. She pretends not to see me approaching, but she’s already stepping back as if trying to hide herself among the group. A moment ago, she had been nakedly staring at us, I’m sure of it. Now she’s trying to make herself scarce—not that it’s unusual. When confronted with our power, shifters often balk.

Her gorgeous sapphire eyes flit from one head to the next, like her irises are playing leapfrog over their crowns, mentally making an escape plan through the party.

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