Page 10 of Noah

Meanwhile, my brother Hudson was too preoccupied with glaring at me to notice them. His frustration radiated off him in waves, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Are you even listening to me, Jackson?” he snapped, his fingers drumming impatiently on the bar.

I shoved his hand back, keeping my eyes on the intruders. “We’ll talk later. Trouble just walked in.”

Hudson’s eyes followed my gaze, and his body tensed when he saw them.

His breathing hitched, the low growl building in his throat telling me he was already spoiling for a fight.

"Pretty brave—or stupid—of them to enter our territory thinking there won’t be any consequences," he muttered, his words laced with barely restrained fury.

Around us, the atmosphere in the bar shifted.

Our pack mates, scattered throughout the room, were watching the Thornbane wolves with the same wary, hostile energy.

They all knew the unspoken rule: this was our territory, and outsiders weren’t welcome, especially not from a pack like Thornbane.

Before I could formulate a plan or even caution Hudson, he was already on his feet, making a beeline toward the intruders. Why did he always act before he thought?

“Hudson, wait,” I began, my voice low but firm.

He didn’t stop. He never did.

Why did he always act before he thought? It was a pattern as old as I could remember.

Hudson thrived on instinct, a gut-level reaction that had served him well in some situations but got him into trouble in others.

He’d had always been this way, a firebrand of emotion and impulsivity, always ready to fight, always ready to prove himself.

Our father had tried to temper that side of him, dragging us both to meetings and events to teach us diplomacy and restraint.

But Hudson had never taken to it. He believed in action, in force, in making his dominance clear.

I couldn’t count the number of times I’d had to pull him back from the edge, to stop him from making a situation worse.

And tonight was no different.

My heart pounded as I watched him stride toward the Thornbane wolves. He was going to confront them, consequences be damned, and it was up to me to stop him before things spiraled out of control.

Adrian’s wolves were cunning. They knew exactly how to push our buttons, how to bait us into making the first move.

If Hudson gave them the reaction they were looking for, it would be all the excuse Adrian needed to escalate the brewing tension between our packs into an outright war.

I quickened my pace, weaving through the tables and patrons, my mind racing. I had to reach him before he did something we couldn’t take back.

"Hudson, wait," I called after him, knowing it was useless.

He might have been the oldest and the heir apparent, but his recklessness was a liability.

Despite our differences, I couldn’t let him face this alone. I pushed off my stool, weaving through the crowd to catch up.

My mind raced with thoughts of how to defuse this before it spiraled into violence.

I wished our other brothers Beck and Mason were here; they always helped in reigning Hudson in, but tonight, it was just the two of us.

"You have no permission being here," Hudson was saying, his voice low but dangerous.

His eyes had started to glow gold, a telltale sign that he was on the brink of losing control.