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Their reclusive way of life was a matter ofsurvival. Privacy was paramount to their species. Their kind could live more than two thousand years, which was why they rarely interacted with the townsfolk, only went out at night, and often changed form for hunts.
Darius traveled down the stone stairwell, taking the solid steps two at a time. The booming voices of his other brothers echoed from the great room, and he figured he should check in with them since he missed the hunt.
“Well, well, well, look who decided to join the party,” Emmerich greeted. “You missed a great hunt.” He tossed a warm shank of freshly roasted meat still on the bone at him.
Darius caught it against his blood-stained chest. “Thanks.”
Starved, he took a bite and settled onto the bench seat beside Atticus. A large fire blazed in the cavernous hearth as more meat roasted over the flame.
Emmerich sniffed the air. “I guess it wasn’t a wasted night after all. You smell like the Luna.”
It didn’t surprise him that his brothers could smell Lumira on his skin. Average wolves could scent objects from two thousand paces away and hear up to six miles, but shadow-wolves weren’t average. Their senses went much further, and their possessive nature often got the better of them.
Of course, they recognized the scent of the Luna. The desire to get closer to her was a shared curse the entire pack suffered, and any attentionfrom Lumira was an enviable gift. She was the great light to their shadowed existence.
“Did you get a lecture, little brother,” Emmerich teased. “It smells like it was a good one.”
Atticus chuckled. “She does love to talk.”
Aside from her subservient role with Evander, Darius wasn’t sure what sort of dynamic the Luna shared with the others. He’d only ever witnessed her intimacy with his brothers on the nights of the blood moon, a night when they all shared her at once with the single goal of getting her pregnant.
It was no accident that such a celebration took place on the night the Alpha was most vulnerable. The Luna was an irresistible temptation to all of them. Evander knew this and used her charms to his advantage—the wild, bacchanalian tradition was how his family maintained power for so long.
Darius reached for a dinner roll. “It doesn’t matter. She’s with Evander now.”
“You sound jealous,” Emmerich teased, guzzling back a dark blend of port.
“Not at all. He has every right.”
His brother’s pale eyebrow arched over one eye as he smirked. “You sure about that?”
“Leave him alone, Rick.”
“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up, Atticus.” He turned his shrewd gaze back to Darius. “Lately, you’ve been harboring some dark thoughts. Maybe you need another thrashing to remember your place.”
“Enough.” Atticus stood and collected his plate, piling it with napkins and bones. “The winds have turned. There will be snow by the end of the month. It’s too dangerous to go look for your mate now, but I’ll go with you as soon as the weather breaks.”
“There’s still time to get out,” Darius argued.
“Out, maybe, but you’ll never make it back in time. You still don’t know where she is.”
Emmerich tossed a cleaned bone onto the pile. “Sounds to me like she doesn’t want to be found.”
“You don’t know that,” Darius challenged, despite his own fears that his brother may be right.
Atticus, the ever-present voice of calm and reason, clamped a staying hand on his shoulder. “Tradition requires the pack to meet her within the first moon phase of your mating. Without us, the imprinting won’t be as strong. Trust that it’s in your best interest—and hers—to wait until we can all be present.”
Because they all intended to claim their rights. “I know what tradition requires.”
“Then you know why we have to wait. Lumira needs more time to recover from the last litter before she can travel. You’ll want her there to answer your female’s questions in case anything goes wrong.”
The females kept them alive during the long winters. Their blood carried healing powers that slowed time, but after giving birth, their offerings were limited.
“If we found my mate, we wouldn’t need to survive on Lumira’s blood alone.”
“Had some human blood tonight.” Emmerich licked his fingers. “She was a fighter.”
“You’re disgusting,” Atticus remarked. “Darius is right. We need to find his mate soon, whoever she is. She belongs with us. We’re indebted to the gods to hunt and protect her so that our line can survive.”
