Page 38 of Knot Quite Ready

My eyes fly to Storm’s, and although she gives me a reassuring smile, an entire conversation flows between us. Fear bolts through me like lightning, and I struggle to swallow. As Casimir's bonded mate, becoming formally recognized requires me to give my real name - the same name linked to a past I have desperately been trying to escape for eight long years. One that officially marks me as becoming the next 'mate' for the next Alpha of our pack. It didn't matter that I was already mated. To my grandfather, I am property, just like my mother before me, and while I know I have the protection of those in this room, all I can imagine is being dragged back.

And I will die before I ever go back.

* * *

Casimir

Terror ripsthrough the mate bond, and my eyebrows furrow as I turn my head to look at Aneira, whose face is ashen. I squeeze her hand. We still haven't discussed, in detail, her past, but she has to know that I will protect her and keep her safe. Hell, between all of us, she will never come to harm.

I send reassurance through our bond as I look at Calian, processing the bomb he just dropped on me. There is a level of safety and relief as an official pack. Overall, being formally recognized would mean that we would be required to submit quarterly financials and be called when needed to aid other shifters and packs. It also meant that we would be subject to more rigid shifter laws. We have been living beyond council rules because I had a feeling my father was too prideful to admit that he had several defected wolves. In fact, I’m sure that was the case for a lot of the other wolves in my pack that stayed behind. In the end, wolves were prideful, and multiple defections would be them admitting that they were failing as a pack. I could imagine the reaction of the Council if they found out not one but about six wolf packs had members that left, and one of them that had multiple Omegas defecting at once as well. There would be complete chaos.

Calian is correct, though. Defected wolves were often considered ‘rogue,’ meant to be crazed, attacking humans and other shifters. Depending on the case, those wolves were considered beyond saving and were hunted and put down before they could cause harm or more harm. However, my pack proved that that wasn’t always the case. It made me think about all the other wolves who were hunted down. Were they really ‘rogue’, or were they quiet dissenters that were put down before they could bring about positive change? Every wolf in my pack is strong, loyal, and we don’t harm shifters or humans, not intentionally anyway, or without cause. However, if we were to be attacked by another pack, shifter law would be on the side of the pack that is within the Council’s rule. Not to mention if we had been reported formally to the Council, we would have hunted down like…no pun intended…dogs. With Calian’s declaration, we were officially safe, for now. But what if it were not a factor? We were fortunate during this time, and while I understood my packs position, if we want to bring about change, we can’t do that from the sidelines, especially not as an unofficial pack.

Of course, I’m not a tyrant. If they feel uncomfortable about setting roots down, they will be free to come and go as they wish, and I will always have a spot for them at the pack home, unofficial or not.

But I cannot put into words how much I need the council to approve the pack. This is life-changing news for my pack, and my future family. No more running. Just setting up roots and being a part of the shifter community. Something that I never wanted until meeting Aneira.

Still, it is complicated. I have to acknowledge that the rest of my pack may not be on board, and that’s putting it lightly. Their opinions matter greatly to me, as they should. The council was neglectful at best and not held in the highest regard. Now, after being ‘free’ from shifter politics, I will have to convince the rest of the pack that this is our best choice.

I look at Tristan, who looks hopeful. And something in me settles.

My play of emotions must show plainly on my face because Calian nods, "I understand your apprehension, Casimir. But you’ll convince your pack. By becoming officially recognized, you'd have access to resources and protection you wouldn't otherwise have. Also, from what I see, your ideals, the ideals that have brought your pack together, align with my own. We can work together to change outdated shifter laws and traditions that don't align with those beliefs."

"Besides," Storm jumps in. "The first steps are already done. The pack is official in terms of a refugee pack. Now we just need to sit, look pretty and try not to stab the useless motherfucker in charge of the wolf shifters when we see them tomorrow. Aneira's home is with me. I am here. So you can't go even if you tried to. I'll change my name to Canta-ruella Hoof-ville and then 101 Dalmation the fuck outta of all of you. Chase you all down and….”

Calian scrubs a hand over his face and rubs his temples. Ralph and Tristan chuckle. Even without Storm’s threat, I wouldn’t, in good conscience, remove Aneira from her life, bookstore, and home.

I look at Aneira, who hasn't moved an inch, a faraway, haunted, look on her face. An expression that I will do everything in my power to erase. Because formal recognition also means my child and mate would be protected if they did come into danger.Something in Storm's rant registers. "Did you say tomorrow?"

Calian clears his throat, eyes shifting to mine, “They would like to see where you are going to set up the pack and see what you have established so far as soon as possible."

Ralph scoffs again, “What he means is that those nosey fucks jumped at the chance to come to Cabria Falls, seeing as how Calian has declared this a Council Free Zone. Choosing to handle most of his shit in-house.”

"Thank you, Ralph." Calian growls. His diplomatic response ruined. My lips twitch with a smile.

“It goes without saying, but if it wasn’t clear, I will, of course, vouch for you,” Calian adds casually, as if like it isn’t a massive deal for a shifter of his standing to come to the aid of a new pack that hasn’t been formally established yet. “After all, that’s what brother mate-in-laws do for each other,” he adds wryly, looking at Storm, who preens.

Storm beams with joy beside Calian. Whether luck or destiny brought us to Cabria Falls without a definite plan, it didn't matter—everything was coming together. The Spiroid Pack now has a member of the shifter council on our side, and I have found my destined mate. I was damn lucky.

“Part one complete,” Storm claps, her eyes taking on a manic gleam, her voice taking on a feral tone. With a watchful eye on Aneira, she adds, “Part two, plan a murder. Part three, name this family unit.”

We exchange confused glances at her words.

All except Aneira, who finally stirs beside me, her body shuddering as her claws shoot out and her eyes blaze with savage fury, “Let’s fucking plan a murder,” she growls through gritted teeth, a fire raging in her voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my dick hard as fuck.

ChapterTwenty

Aneira

I’m not sure why I received a summons to come into the Alpha's office. It was rare for him to even acknowledge me, let alone see me. But despite wanting to avoid him completely, it was better to pick and choose my battles. As I walk into the office, I can feel his eyes on me, cold, cruel, and calculating. I stay standing, choosing to ignore the chairs in front of me. I resist the urge to shudder and fidget, as he observes me silently.

He leans back in his chair, his grey marks that look exactly like mine hardening at the lack of reaction from me. Yeah, fuck you asshole, I think to myself.

"I am sure you're wondering why I called you in here today. So let’s cut to the chase. As the heir to this pack, you have a duty to this pack. Your mother didn't recognize that. I blame myself, I should have beaten her more often. Still, you now have the opportunity to make up for it."

I feel my eyebrows fly up, but I don't respond. Because my mother warned me that every word ever uttered from his mouth is a weapon. So I let him lay his proverbial arsenal on the table in front of me, knowing I would sooner pick one up to stab his ass than do whatever it was that he wanted me to do.

"I have received word that the alpha from the Redwood pack will be arriving tomorrow to discuss the marriage arrangements," my grandfather continues, his voice clipped.

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