Page 11 of Alpha's Arranged Mate

"You need not worry," Dash assured him. "He shall not be alive much longer to challenge your rule as the new alpha of the demon wolves."

Though a small part of him felt his sonly duty to mourn the thought of his father's execution, the largest part of him was relieved. Travers hadn't only tormented the Silverdale wolves and others besides, he had dominated and abused his own pack members for far too long.

The mere thought of the mother of his children fleeing their pack made him glad to hear Dash's words.

"When will the execution occur?" he asked, the words coming as though from someone else.

Dash met his gaze without remorse as he said, “Once the witches have made abundantly certain that they can transport the offenders safely to their holy ground in order to complete the fullest execution.”

Nausea threatened to claim Braxton. He knew well what that meant. A demon wolf did not die once, not twice, but three times thanks to the fracturing of their being during their very creation in the fiery pits of hell. First their demon was stripped, second their wolf was maimed, and third, their human body would return to the fiery pits from whence they came, completing the only true way to kill a demon wolf.

All those who had been killed in battles previously likely waited with the ancestors in hell, awaiting their chance to return topside again. Whether Dash knew that or not, Braxton wasn't sure, but he was unwilling to give away pack secrets. So long as his father and those evilest demon wolves were properly disposed of, he could handle the rest. Only the witches who had created the first demon wolves could truly send them back into oblivion. Their descendants fell under Braxton's rule now, and all would stay where they belonged, he would be certain of that.

I shall not upset the balance any further, Braxton vowed to himself, knowing that his father had taken it upon himself to play god to the demon wolves all too many times, creating them anew from human and werewolf alike, finding unfortunate and painful ways to bring the dead back to fight in his accursed army in his war against Silverdale and the witches who had cursed them.

No more. Braxton was determined that both he and his pack would have a fresh start.

"Then you have my word that nothing shall go wrong this evening, so long as your pack does not cause any trouble,” Braxton assured him.

Dash raised a dark eyebrow, and Braxton wondered whether he might have offended the alpha. He gritted his teeth against the urge to apologize. He himself had just been made an alpha—at least, he would be that night—and he wasn't about to go bowing before another. Too long had he bowed before his father.

"See that your pack is made aware of this," Dash instructed him, and with that he waved a hand, gesturing for the guard behind Braxton to return him to his cell.

Though a small part of him couldn't help but think that something was bound to go wrong, Dash couldn't help but hope. One day soon he might well be able to wrap his arms around his children again. He would see those of his pack who still remained outside Silverdale's walls, and he would reunite his entire family.

Had he been more like his father, he might have reveled in the fact, but as he was dragged back to his cell, he vowed to himself he would never be like him.

Never would he cause harm where there was no need to do so; not his pack, nor his children, nor even those his father had intended to be his enemies.

This full moon would be the beginning of a new life for the demon wolf pack, whether they knew it or not, and whether they liked it or not Braxton would do all he could to see those deserving of it freed. Even if that meant sacrificing his own future happiness to marry a Silverdale she-wolf.

Chapter 8 - Lottie

The night of the full moon came around much faster than Lottie had hoped. Though she had hemmed and hawed about putting her own name forward for the choosing, in the end it had been the expression on Macie's face that had stopped her from doing so. She was certain that her sister would never forgive her if she did, and though she and Macie had never been the kind of sisters to be joined at the hip, she was serious in her big sister duty.

Even now, when they were both adults, she felt the keen urge to protect her. It didn't matter that Macie already had a mate of her own in Ray McCormack—the heir to the McCormack family, one of the most prominent families in the pack—Lottie would always put her sister, her family and her pack above all else.

Yet as she prepared for the ceremony that evening, she couldn’t help but feel a churning in her gut that she ought to have at least put her name into the draw. The alliance was for the benefit of the entire pack, after all, and what were the chances of her name being pulled, anyway?

From what she had heard, at least one daughter from each family in the pack had been placed in the draw, and at last count there were over fifteen families. Some had even doubled up their chances, likely in the hopes of getting in the alphas’ good graces. After all, forming an alliance that would bring peace between two longstanding enemies was an honor.

But as Macie had reminded her after the meeting several nights before, "You are too close to this. Someone might realize it was you who helped him escape the first time."

Lottie had come to know that her sister was right.

No matter how much she told herself that was true, there was still a churning in her gut that told her it wasn't entirely right. And though her she-wolf had been silent for much of the time since the meeting, whenever she did rear her head, she clawed at Lottie's insides as if she were pleading with her to reconsider.

"Lot?"

She barely caught her sister's voice, just on the edge of her hearing, so deep in thought at her vanity table that she hadn't even noticed the knock on the door or its opening behind her.

"Lottie? Charlotte!"

Lottie jumped in her seat where she had just finished pinning up her golden blonde locks and swiveled, dropping her hands to her sides. Whether she would be the center of attention tonight or not, she was determined to look good, just as she always had. The last thing she needed was for people to begin questioning why she hadn’t been acting herself lately. How was she supposed to admit that the thought if Braxton making an alliance with another Silverdale she-wolf made her want to claw her own insides out just to stop from feeling?

"Sorry, I was so focused on my hair, I didn’t hear you come in," Lottie said, blushing. It was a lame excuse for a werewolf to make with their oversensitive hearing, and she didn't need the look on her sister's face to tell her that.

"Your hair looks fine," came the masculine voice behind her sister standing on the threshold. Lottie cringed at Ray's grumpy tone. Though handsome, strong and your typical grumpy guy werewolf, he was also a McCormack, and although he and Macie had been together and mated for a while now, it still didn't feel quite right to her. Not after all their years of the Silverdales and McCormacks in pack rivalries.

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