The Sixteenth Moon: A Rejected Mates Romance

Chapter 9 (Revised): Digging

***The following chapter has been revised for plot and continuity.***

In his official office in the Pack hall, staring at the document before him, Rueger ground his teeth together, his tightening jaw clenched so hard his skull was throbbing.

He read it—again and again. Absorbing the information written there until he could see it behind closed eyelids. It was all there; the agreement between the Magnusen Pack and the Laarsen Pack. The black ink and metaphorical blood written into the lines of the Consort Bonding contract with Ingrid Magnusen. The period of their agreement. The purpose of their arrangement. And the penalty if either party broke the contract.

It was all there. In black and white—though, more and more, it felt more like his own blood had been used to pen each damning word.

The contract was airtight, not that he expected any less from two Alphas seeking to bind their heirs together. It wasn't the first time an arranged bonding had been created, and it wouldn't be the last. Except, in his case, the Elders had a hand in the arrangement.

Leaning back in his desk chair, Rueger filtered through his memories, hating that each flickering image, each moment in time, had been one flagstone laid on the path to his own life-altering mistake.

At first, the Elders had sought him out, begging him to let them speak with the Ancestors on his behalf to seek out their will for him. After much thought—and pressure from this Pack for him to settle down—he'd agreed, because the chances of him finding his fated mate were slim. Fated mates were uncommon for born Alphas, and he wasn't so sure he'd be lucky enough to find his. He hadn't expected the Elders to reveal a consort mate, but they had, much to the joy of the Pack. And his father. After the Elders supposedly communed with the Ancestors, who spoke to them, indicating—clearly—that Ingrid was his future, they set the arrangement in motion. He would have been a fool to ignore the Ancestors. He would have been subjected to their displeasure if he disobeyed their will to bond him to Ingrid. She was their choice for him—even over the mate they had initially chosen for him.

At least that's what he had chosen to believe that night two years ago. At first sight, Kana had been beautiful, yes, but she'd also been small. Her body curvy but frail. After that first whiff of her, that tantalizing musk that told him she was his mate, she'd lacked any perceptible scent at all, though his wolf could sense her wolf. She was a shifter, but how strong could she be if she couldn't even produce a scent other shifters could smell? What kind of Luna would that make her? A weak one. And his Pack needed a strong, capable Luna to lead beside him.

To him and those gathered at the ceremony, Kana had been a poor choice over Ingrid.

The Ancestors had made a mistake fating him to Kana, so they corrected their mistake by gifting him Ingrid, the stronger choice for an Alpha's mate. That had been the gospel he'd read to himself, over and over, night after night, sleeping beside a woman who wasn't his fated mate but was still his proclaimed female.

Now, he knew the truth.

The Elders, their commune with the Ancestors, their will regarding Ingrid...it was the lie he'd been fed. The lie he'd believed until that moment. The lie that had ripped his life to shreds. And why? Why had the Elders and his father lied to him? What reason could they possibly have to keep him from his fated mate when they knew, instinctively, that a wolf's fated mate was his reason for being?

And you tossed yours away like trash. Because of them.

His wolf vibrated beneath his skin, jaws snapping in barely contained rage.

Thought the blame didn't lie squarely with the Elders and the Alphas.... He'd been so caught up in duty over desire, perceived strength over intrinsic power that he'd allowed himself to be fooled. He'd betrayed his mate and himself.

And now he was paying for it.

Growling, he just stopped his claws from ripping through the documents and into the worn wood of his desk.

A knock sounded on his office door, and he grunted his "come in".

Jakob swung the door open, his green eyes wary with flashes of concern. As his best friend and Beta, the man was aware of the turmoil between Rueger and his wolf, and the trouble his decision two years ago had caused.

"They're waiting," Jakob informed him, making to turn and leave but pausing just on this side of the doorway. "Do you want me here?"

Rueger's wolf chuffed, grateful to his longtime friend.

Rueger offered the other man a lopsided smile.

"I think I can handle them...though you might want to wait just outside the door in case I need you to summon the Healer."

The Beta snorted. "You planning on killing someone?"

Rueger flashed a fang. "Not planning to, no. But once the truth is out, there may be some...uncomfortable discussion."

Nodding knowingly, Jakob said, "You can count on me, Alpha."

Turning and leaving the room, he left the door open, through which twelve men shuffled, single file, their heads up, their shoulders back, their air of arrogance and self-importance wafting around them like the stench off a bog.

Since Rueger had seen fit to remove all the seats save his from his office, the other men were shuffling in place, looking from one to another nervously. Only one of the men made eye contact with him, his arrogance like a miasma oozing from his pores. The stink made Rueger's wolf's nose twitch.

That man, Elder Meiser, stepped forward, his arms crossing over his narrow chest, his thin lips pinching in displeasure.

"What is the meaning of this? Your Beta came into my home, demanded that I come here—and I was right in the middle of my meal."

Bristling at the man's tone, Rueger grinned a grin of teeth and intent.

"The meaning of this is that your Alpha summoned you. Your Alpha wanted you here, and so you are here. And I would remind you, Cyril Meiser, that you are a member of my Pack, and as your Alpha, your complete and utter lack of respect for me, in my office, has thinned my already paper thin tolerance."

Sputtering, the man's face turning a notable puce, he blustered, "You may be my Alpha, boy, but I am still your Elder. I am still a venerated member of the Elder Council of this Pack, and I will not be jerked around by a pup still waiting for his balls to drop."

The wolf within Rueger growled, and Rueger let the sound escape his body and rumbled out into the room. Every man in there stiffened, their eyes widening at the Alpha's obvious displeasure.

Allowing the surging Alpha power to leak into the room around him, Rueger sneered, "You may be a member of the Elder Council, Cyril Meiser, but you are still under my power, my benevolence, my domain. You may be older than me, have lived more life than have, have squirreled away enough votes every year to retain your position as an Elder, but I can still reach over this desk, rip out your throat, and gulp down your blood without blinking an eye."

Meiser's eyes widened further, his face paling beneath his Alpha's terrible gaze.

Another man—either brave or stupid—stepped forward, placing a hand on Cyril's shoulder. Dressed in sweatpants and a well-worn red t-shirt, it was obvious he hadn't expected to leave his home that day.

"Alpha, forgive him. He does not speak for the Council, though I'm sure we are all curious as to why you've summoned us so abruptly today."

Deliberately, Rueger gave a short nod, pulling back some of the Alpha power pressing down on the room. The twelve other wolves whined within their human vessels.

Planting his hands on the surface of his desk, Rueger leaned forward, taking the time to meet each of the wary gazes before him.

"Now, who wants to tell me why the Council lied to me?"