My mouth clamps over his sinewy shoulder to muffle my scream. The urge returns with a force, the bond expanding around my heart in a warm glow.

Mine, mine, mine, it chants. My wolf agrees.

“Mark me as yours,” he commands.

There’s a mark already there. My wolf freaks out. We are fated. He is hers. He cannot belong to another.

He doesn’t. They’re his scars from trying to protect his father from mine. My heart clenches. I kiss the faint ragged lines left by claw marks.

Caden shudders, arms locking around me to hold me tighter. We fought the Fates’ design and still found our way back to each other. Our past can’t haunt us anymore. We only have our future together, bound and mated.

My bite covers the old scars, teeth piercing his skin. He groans, cradling the back of my head, uttering encouragement. His cock jerks, buried inside me.

I lick the mark, empowered by the way it makes him twitch with pleasure. His fingers sink into my hair.

“Mine,” I hiss against the healing wound.

His grip flexes on me and his hips jolt with a sharp thrust. Biting out a curse, he yanks me into a kiss. I swallow his groan as he comes.

The bond thrums between us with a burst of magic, the electric sparks intoxicating and wonderful. Then it settles. I feel him more deeply, not just sensing his emotions through the bond but feel more anchored to him, as if we’re interwoven in the fabric of our beings.

We are one. Whole. Complete.

36CADEN

In the morning, we gather with the other alphas at an oblong table with high-backed chairs. For years since the packs broke away from the Original Pack and formed their own territories, pack heads have come here to set the terms of the alliance between us all. Arched stone windows draped in creeping ivy overlook the lush gardens, giving the sense we’re outside, one with nature. It’s what I like best about the summit grounds.

I guide Avery to our seats next to Alistair and Regina Ryan with my hand at the small of her back. Liam stands behind us, matching the other betas taking their support position with their alphas. Some others are joined by their mates, some, like Rooke Bell of Crescent Valley Pack, only attend with their beta and a handful of advisors.

“This is a lot more formal than I always pictured in my head,” Avery whispers.

I lean into her, admitting, “I was intimidated as hell when I first came, and once I was Alpha.”

Things begin with Alistair’s beta reading out the accords as they currently stand, outlining the alliance and peaceful relations between all the packs present. The representative Timber Hollow Pack sent to meet with me stands at a podium with him, shuffling through paperwork.

“Alphas, to start, do you have any heirs to name since we last met?” Alistair prompts, residing over the meeting as this summit’s appointed host.

I remember the one my father brought me to when he officially named me heir apparent. Despite being raised as heir, I didn’t want the responsibility. I was afraid I couldn’t fill the role. I know I’m capable of it now.

“Twin River Pack has named Oliver Bailey,” Alpha Shepherd announces.

He waves his nephew forward to a round of applause. The lanky kid turns beet red, shuffling back to the alcove. The other packs continue around the circle. Northwest Boulder Pack declares Tanner Marshall’s first pup his heir. Then Wispy Plains Pack names a pack member outside of Alpha Goodwin’s bloodline.

Alpha Bell shakes his head when it’s his turn. My brow creases. Rooke’s daughter is around Atlas’ age, and Alistair already named his son to take his place as the head of Timber Hollow Pack during my second summit as Alpha.

“Not your daughter?” I prompt.

He wrinkles his nose. “A female for a pack alpha? Not a chance. I won’t be naming Kyra as my heir.”

His statement sparks some murmurs around the table. Avery shifts in her seat, her scent turning bitter and sharp. I rub her back to soothe her disapproval.

Alistair signals his beta to move on. He outlines the Alpha heir program where heirs travel pack to pack for a few months at a time. Each pack provides a helping hand in training future heirs, allowing them to see how each pack manages its people to guide them to becoming a well-rounded alpha.

“Atlas Ryan, heir apparent to Timber Hollow Pack, you’ll spend time with each pack as part of your preparation to become a future alpha,” Alistair says. “You’ll learn from the pack alphas before you. After the summit, you’ll return with your first host, Alpha Blackburn, to Silver Mountain.”

Atlas steps up to the head of the table and bows his head. His father shoots me a wink. It’s my turn to return the favor guiding his son.

I didn’t think I was ready to train anyone else how to be a fair and decent alpha because since I took over for my father it felt like I was treading water beneath the thundering pressure of Silver Falls, fighting to stay afloat. It wasn’t until Avery opened my eyes to how tightly I was gripping the reins that I wanted to do better. Being a good alpha isn’t about being perfect, it’s about dedicating myself to giving my pack the best I can.

I’m looking forward to keeping Atlas on his toes the same way his father did with me.

The next few topics are dealt with quickly. Some packs have brought lists of those who would like to apply for a transfer to move to a new territory.

When trade terms come up, I lift a hand. “Silver Falls Pack would like to submit a proposal for sharing resources.”

Timber Hollow Pack’s representative passes out a copy of what I’m asking for from others for the winter months and the lumber, stone, and other materials I’m offering in exchange.

“We also have an addition.” I invite Avery to speak with a nod.

“I brought samples of what we’d like to offer to your packs in addition to the mountain’s resources. Please enjoy them,” Avery says. “Liam? Would you?”

“Of course.” He accepts the basket from her and circles the table to offer the selection of vials, jars, and bundles of dried herbs in sachets.

“What use do these have?” The beta from Moonlight Lake Pack stops the alpha and picks up a sachet, sniffing dubiously. “Looks like witchcraft to me. What is Silver Falls Pack playing at?”

Several distrustful rumbles sound around the table, including the loudest from my wolf at the accusation of our mate. I shoot to my feet, stance broadening.

“My mate is no witch. Take that back immediately, or face me in a challenge.” I bare my teeth, canines growing.

Avery grasps my hand with a soft smile, encouraging me to sit. “It’s fine. There’s no need to fight to defend my honor. Allow me to explain.”

I drag her chair closer with a terse sigh, scowling at the beta and anyone else who looks at her in a way that irks my wolf. He paces, emitting tetchy noises that reverberate in my chest like a motor. The only thing that calms me down is her touch when she rubs her thumb across my knuckles and glances at me with an expression that broadcasts get it together.

“Don’t be so close-minded. Use your senses. You can’t smell magic, can you?” She’s fearless in the face of their allegation, exuding confident satisfaction when a handful of them shake their heads. “These are herbal remedies made from wild plants that I forage and what is grown in my garden.”

She demonstrates by taking the salve Regina Ryan picked and smoothing it on her wrist. When her skin doesn’t melt off, their wariness fades.

“They help your elders manage pain and stiffness as they age. Aid our healing abilities to make things more comfortable.”

“Like human medicine?”

“Hardly,” she scoffs, then backtracks. “Well, in the modern sense. Their chemicals are useless on most supernaturals. There are other uses to calm the mind or offer relief from fatigue.”