River Wolf(63)

Maybe he’d let them bleed and hurt a while longer before he sent Gillian. They wouldn’t die, at least not from their injuries. They might if he broke their damn necks.

Hopefully the ranger would snap out of his shock, calm down and either let himself be convinced he imagined the whole episode or to keep their secret. The killing of humans was prohibited by ancient pack agreements dating back to long before Brett had been born. The rule stood for all wolves, save a handful who were tasked with the ultimate protection of the pack. An Alpha could—and Brett had, when no other recourse was left to him—kill a human to protect the pack.

If he truly did not want to do the act, if any Alpha didn’t, they could call Julian. The Chief Enforcer would take care of the matter. The wolf was a powerful man unto his own right, and the only reason he did not lead a pack was because he hadn’t chosen to. No Alpha, save perhaps Diesel, was as old as Julian and none as cunning. Better to not involve him. The other Alphas believed Brett to have weaknesses already. What they thought didn’t matter. He couldn’t afford to prove the point to them or for them.

Alphas answered to no one save to the next challenger. They owed no explanations and the wisest ones gave none. In the last few months of his grandfather’s life, the former Alpha sat him down and told him some hard truths.

To be Alpha was to be alone, save for a chosen handful—friends, family and mate. Only his mate would ever truly walk the path with him, for a mate was an equal and Alphas had no other equals within their pack. A mate was not one who would answer to him but whom could hold him accountable. After all, no wolf be he Alpha or the lowest of the submissives wanted an unhappy mate.

As Alpha, his grandfather whispered in a papery thin voice, his aging seeming to accelerate with every moon passing since he surrendered to Brett’s leadership, you will want to make friends. But you cannot be their judge, jury and executioner as well as their friend. They have to respect you and yes, you want them to care, but beyond all, you must have them obey. It is for their safety, the safety of the pack and no one—not even the Alpha—is more important than the pack.

The advice sustained him in the early years. Empowered him as he coped with all the challenges associated with leading Hudson River. In so many ways, his grandfather had been right. He would have once considered his Hunters as friends, but they had to be his Hunters first and his friends second.

Mason Clayborne, Gillian and her mate Owen—they were his friends and they didn’t answer to him. The tether tying Gillian to him was nascent, and a gift, but he was not her Alpha, which meant he could be her friend and she his. The longer his thoughts lingered, the more maudlin he grew. Mason had come to Hudson River an angry teenager, a Lone Wolf, and grieving child. Brett allowed him to stay, letting him be a guest in his house. For a few months, he’d taken him under his wing, trained him, advised him and cautioned his temper. Then one morning, he recognized the dependency the young man had begun to form and more—that Brett had formed.

From loner to friend in the space of half a year… As much as he’d hated it, he’d been honest with the kid. He needed to go or join Hudson River. The angry dominance in the boy had given away to wary leadership in the young man. Mason repaid his honesty with like, saying he could not join Hudson River because he didn’t want to follow anyone. Providing him with funds, a reference and help in finding a construction job where he could learn the trade outside of his territory had been Brett’s next action.

He could help a friend.

The raw rage ebbed by the time he turned onto the road leading to his house. Though his plans for a hike had been completely destroyed by the wolves’ shenanigans, he still had Colby at home. They could still do something together. Not telling her the truth was a choice. Like the ranger, she posed an unknown, unquantifiable threat.

Rather than put her in harm’s way, he had to identify what she was and whether she could handle the certainty of what they were. No matter how ready he was to be done with even the facsimile of deception, he wouldn’t rush to a choice, which could endanger her.

Leashing his temper took considerable effort, but then he was Alpha. Needs managed and in his case, he needed his calm. Thinking about Colby had an ameliorating effect on his temper. She’d taken his refusal to answer with a lie exceptionally well. Or, she had before he’d gotten the 9-1-1 call to get to the state park. Pack came first, no matter how attractive his distraction was.

Hitting the garage remote as he pulled around the house, he tapped the brakes. The door opening for his car wasn’t alone, the third slot stood wide open and Colby met his gaze like a startled deer. Panic welled in those amber eyes. Slamming the gear into park, he shut off the engine and abandoned the car before the thought fully processed.