One

Prologue

A human.

It wasn't that odd to see a human in the pack, as there were several who had requested sanctuary, either because they knew about the supernatural world and had nowhere else to go, or they had lost their mate in some way.

Some even wanted to join simply for the hell of it. To belong to a pack of mythical creatures. Either way, all entries be it were-creature, shifter or human, got a secure background check before they were permitted to join.

All cases of asylum were judged by a gathering of Alphas, who'd decide to take in the refuge or leave them for one of their other colleagues. Very rarely did humans get rejected from such gatherings and most Alphas jumped for joy when a human actually did ask for asylum.

After all, humans were well desired mates, even if they lacked the instincts that werewolves have in spades. Usually for the most dominant males and females, the human's lack of wolf would make sure their mates mellowed out somewhat.

An Alpha's mate was almost always a human, though there were some cases known where an Alpha was mated to another werewolf. Anyone could be born an Alpha, it wasn't a matter of rank, more a matter of power of the beast residing within. And it was that beast that would feel threatened and become more aggressive, if their mate had a beast of their own.

There were always some shifters who were reluctant to accept humans, even despised them and thinking of humans as inferior beings. To each their own, Brandon shrugged but their pack welcomed the humans with open arms.

So normally when their Alpha, his father, had brought in a new member to the pack, he'd made sure to announce their presence and arrange a meeting so the pack could welcome the newcomer. Then why didn't he do that this time?

The new scent that had trailed through the pack house had been unknown and when Brandon had asked his father about it, he simply said it was a new member. A new member, yet Brandon's father hadn't given him any papers, let alone an introduction?

How odd...

Several of the pack had asked who the new kid was and Brandon had tried to remember if he had somehow missed him during one of the many asylum papers he had categorized and filed away.

Truth was, he didn't have a clue. Father had been letting Brandon do the paperwork to slowly transition the Alpha responsibilities on his shoulders. Brandon admitted that in the beginning he'd been slacking off and joking about, not taking things seriously until the Alpha had taken him by the ear and forced him to join a Gathering.

Gatherings were held whenever people requested sanctuary and as any obnoxious teen that had a good life, Brandon had never paused to the implications of that. Not until he saw several people huddled in the back of the room, the stench of fear and blood thick in the air as they were called in the office one by one.

Father had pointed his son to a chair behind the desk, a stern look in his icy blue eyes as he had commanded him to sit down and watch. And Brandon had. He assumed that was the time where the wool had been pulled from his eyes, where he learned the truth and responsibility of being an Alpha.

It wasn't about power or money, nor was it about status and posturing. It was about the good and wellbeing of the pack members. Because an Alpha was nothing without its pack, and the pack was nothing without their Alpha. That's something that that Jungle book movie got right; The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

An Alpha wolf survived because of his pack. The inner beast was only soothed by the company of others, of being able to help and provide. It needed to be able to provide, to guide and nurture. Without the opportunity to fulfill that urge, any born Alpha would grow mad under the beasts' restlessness.