You can’t run away from your family forever, Agatha.
For the last hour, I sat at a bus stop bench, no more than two blocks from home: my family’s penthouse. My dad’s words bounced around my head, and all I could do was think about the shit I had to face tonight. A few steps away, Park Avenue was busy, but that was no surprise, it was practically rush hour in New York City. No one paid me any attention. At first, a man slowed down with an interested smile, but one look from my slitted eyes sent him on his way. This wasn’t the day to fuck with me.
“Agatha, there’s a woman I’d like for you to meet when you come home,” my father had said over the phone this morning.
“Don’t be late today.”
A sour feeling crept into my stomach and twisted it into wicked knots as I stood. If I’d been in wolf-form, I would’ve been circling the streets without a sense of direction or destination. Instead of spending my time walking, I merely warmed the park bench.
Reluctantly, I walked home. Each step closer to my building weighed me down. My leather boots felt impossibly heavy. Even the collar of my shirt seemed to tighten around my neck. I didn’t want to live in my skin right now. Tonight my family would change—in a way I didn’t want.
Eventually, I reached my building. The doorman, who’d known my family for the last twenty years, opened the glass doors with a smile. It faded when he saw my face, but it wasn’t his job to ask so he put on a chipper mask. “Good evening, Miss McClure. Hope you had a good evening.”
“Thank you, Burt,” I murmured. It was more than what most of my family said to him.
The elevator trip up to the twentieth floor was just as somber as my walk had been. Once I arrived, our guards, who protected our household, merely nodded my way heads bowed. They were large men, burly in stature, but they paid respect to the daughter of a pack leader, the Midtown werewolf pack leader to be exact.
A white-haired human butler waited at the door. I had nothing for him to carry or put away so he merely mimicked the guards.
“You’re late,” he chided gently.
“I would’ve been later, Helms, given the circumstances,” I said.
“I understand—but you know Mr. McClure. He prefers punctuality.”
I frowned at the bruise on the side of his neck. My dad, Desmond McClure, had most likely taken out his frustration for my tardiness on Helms. The poor human was paid well, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be treated like a slave. Life in my world wasn’t pretty if you sat on the lower rungs. Everyone had a price they were willing to pay in exchange for closeness to wealth and power, both of which my dad had far too much.
Right before I’d left for college at New York University, I’d said to Helms, “If you want to leave, I’ll find a way to protect you.”
At the time, he shrugged and gave me a wise smile that touched the wrinkles around his eyes. “A member of the Helms family has taken care of the McClure family since my grandfather immigrated from England. It’s a tradition I’m meant to bear.” Even though his family had adopted him, he took his service seriously.
At the time, I acquiesced, but now I’d rather just kick Helms out of this house with a generous check in hand. As difficult as the circumstances were for him, at least he was here by choice. I was trapped by birth.
Helms followed me from the foyer to the sitting room. I didn’t need to be told to go there. My nose was sufficient enough to follow the trail of cigar smoke. My dad loved to smoke exotic ones—rich and thick, a blend of cedar and walnut. When I was a child, they reminded me of warm hugs from my dad. Now they made me feel nothing but contempt.
Two people waited in our sitting room. The tall windows gave a beautiful view of Central Park and the lit skyline of NYC. I expected the grand fireplace to be lit, like it always was in the evening, but it wasn’t. The place felt as cold and empty as my heart.
When I sat on the Queen Anne couch opposite my dad and the woman he’d mentioned on the phone, Helms offered me a drink.
“No, thank you.” I kept my gaze focused on a beautiful set of hydrangeas in a thin glass vase. A fresh set of flowers every day of the year. Barely perceptible with all the damn cigar smoke.
The grandfather clock on the other side of the room ticked with every swing of the pendulum. The ever faint sounds of the evening traffic bled through the windows and touched my inner ears. Yet no one said a single word for several minutes—until Dad spoke. “You didn’t come home when you were supposed to.”
“An hour or two doesn’t change anything,” I replied.
The tall, blonde woman shifted her legs. Her perfume was expensive and floral. Not a personal favorite to be honest. I could’ve looked up and greeted her, but if my assumptions were right, this guest wasn’t someone who wanted to be my new BFF.
“Agatha, I’d like for you to meet Kelly.”
Before my common sense kicked in, my mouth moved. “So you’re the woman who’s replacing my mother.”
Kelly’s smile twitched, but she held it nonetheless.
“Agatha,” Father warned. A subtle growl rumbled in his chest.
“Kelly, have you met my mother to discuss this matter?” I asked her.
“Another remark, Agatha and your position in the pack will be lowered.” Dad’s warning had a bite this time so I crossed my arms and turned away from them.
Kelly didn’t speak, but I could practically detect the smugness. A rich musk that deepened her perfume. Our eyes met and I wished she would’ve challenged my gaze, but she looked away.
Under most circumstances, Kelly couldn’t slide in as my dad’s new consort. Since Morwyn McClure was alive and well, she’d have to fight Mom for the job. Alpha females were very possessive when it came to their mates. They had to be since other women lined up to take their place. In my pack, no one had ever challenged Mom. She dominated other females without even trying.
My father had simply cut off their marriage ties as if their bond had meant nothing.
My hand gripped the side of my chair tight enough for the fabric to cry out from a tear.
Kelly switched her legs again, smoothing over her skirt. She maintained her silence. I wondered what she’d do if my mother walked through the door right at that moment. Once Mom got word of Kelly’s attempt to usurp her position in the pack, Mom would challenge. Would Kelly accept, or would she fall to the floor quivering like a pup? Mom was the alpha female, and the only wolf she had above her was the alpha male. Unfortunately, that alpha was my father, and I was sure he’d find a way to prevent Mom from exerting her rights.
I bit my tongue as the sour words I wanted to say tainted my mouth. Oh, how I wanted to say how I really felt. How I wanted things to go back to the way they were even if that meant I lived in a household where my mother and father lived apart.
Helms entered the fog of our tête-á-tête. He flicked a glance my way and gave me an expression I remembered from my youth. Back down, Agatha, his brown eyes said. Choose another day to fight. As much as I wanted to knock this chick across the room, it wouldn’t happen today. So I sighed and did nothing to hide that I was sulking.
“Dinner is served,” he announced.
Dad got up first, with Kelly not far behind him.
When he noticed I hadn’t moved, Dad checked behind him. I reluctantly followed. He had no right to assume I’d accept this. Other packs didn’t operate this way. Just a few like ours who swayed from the Code, or the code of ethics for werewolves. According to the Code, the strong led the pack and the weak were cast aside. Mom was strong enough to lead. It was in other pack matters where she wasn’t good enough for him.
For the most part, the dinner service in our formal dining room was like any other. Dad sat at the head of the table, but I wanted to snarl at the sight of Kelly sitting to his right. I shouldn’t be surprised, after entering the room, to see someone else had taken my mother’s place. The urge to take the spot was strong, and I could’ve stared her down until she gave it up.
Instead, I sat in my usual place. Right next to Kelly. She squirmed beside me, and I grinned.
“Kelly, sit up straight,” Dad chided. “I won’t have my only daughter intimidate my future mate.”
I raised my eyebrow at my dad’s frown. What would he do if I said the impossible? Right here, right now. The wolf in me grinned, ready and eager to strike. I took a deep breath. “Kelly, on my honor, I challenge—”
“Don’t you dare!” In an instant, Dad’s arm stretched across the table, his hand slapping down between the place settings. The table shuddered as fine china rattled and glasses of water spilled. “This is your final warning, Agatha. This isn’t the time or the place to go against me.”
Kelly and I froze under his glare while the servants rushed to clean up the water. His face hardened, every muscle tightened like a stretched bow. He slowly picked up an upright wine glass and gulped.
I kept my gaze on my plate. All the while, Dad chuckled. “That’s my Aggie. If only you’d been born a man, you would’ve made a fine pack leader.”
To keep myself from laughing at his condescending, sexist garbage, I focused on the shiny reflections in the plate. I counted every curve, even the minute nicks beyond a human eye’s capability to see. Anything to escape the very thought that my life in my pack could end up in the very manner my mother’s had: abandoned by my mate who no longer saw me as the woman he chose as his life partner. No more than ten feet beyond the doorway to this penthouse, my mother had been relegated to a one-bedroom apartment. All alone.
My trance ended when the staff brought our food. Almost as if to calm me, Helms served me first after my father. He gave me a knowing look and gently squeezed my shoulder as he filled my bowl with soup. He pushed the spoon closer to me.
Eat. He tilted his head toward the food.
I picked up the spoon. As the food slid down my throat, my anger dissipated a bit. How well Helms knew me. My pesky, yet persistent, habit. Just the thought of eating—the very act of chewing—brought a deep comfort. Something that could only be compared to the satisfying feeling you’d have when you scratched an itch that never went away. The servants added two rolls to my bread plate where others had one. An extra serving of baked chicken when my plate quickly emptied. As I gave into the place where happiness resided, a place with a fork in my hand, I sensed Kelly’s eyes on my food. Most werewolves ate a lot to keep up with our advanced metabolisms, but I had just eaten my fourth serving. Far more than usual, even for a werewolf.
Naturally, my dad had to interrupt my blissful moment with a word or two.
“Since we’re dealing out all the cards tonight,” he said, “I thought you’d like to know I arranged your engagement not too long ago.”
“Excuse me?” I said between bites. “How long ago?”
Our eyes met. His blue eyes to my blue eyes. A slight grin etched into his cheek. “Three or four years ago…”
I chortled a bit. Matchmaking among the packs wasn’t new. But over the past year, I’d made an organized effort to reach out to other single pack leaders or males who would inherit the position, meeting and talking to them—on my terms. No hiding in the dark with secrets or deals under the table. I wanted to choose a good man for myself, not stew in the situation where I was now.
“You promised,” I said crisply. The food in my stomach turned heavy as iron.
“That was five years ago, Agatha.”
“You promised,” I repeated.
“I have your best interests in mind.”
“So how much am I worth to you? A hotel? Land?” I tried to distract myself with my meal again and managed to take a bite of the custard pie one of the servants hurried to place in front of me. Their attempt to calm my anger was touching, but far too late a gesture. At the moment, disgust clawed through me like razor-laden ice, slicing across every inch of me. So I filled my belly, cramming in every bit in hopes I’d think of something else. Unfortunately, my grip on my fork tightened again and again. Until the fucking metal bent.
Dad wasn’t far from me. Just five feet away. I could imagine myself flying across the table to tackle him with my butter knife. Not exactly the best blade to do the job—but it was the feeling that counted. The muscles in my legs clenched, ready to jump, but I took a few cleansing breaths and focused on my reflection in the glass of water.
Stay calm. You know how this game is played. This wasn’t the right time to fight. My father was far too strong and fast for someone my age to challenge. I was only twenty-four. Still a pup by an elder’s standards.
Helms entered the room and announced a guest. Not far behind him, a stranger waltzed in. I could smell him at first: a thick ass fog of Brut. An overpowering choice in cologne—but his appearance was another story. He had an angular face, with a wide back and narrow hips. Black hair and eyes. Not too shabby at all in the looks department. But he had one strike against him already that nothing—including a golden-tipped pecker—would make me agree to a relationship with him. His black eyes assessed me, perhaps waiting to see if I’d acquiesce on our first encounter.
Not gonna happen, pal.
He approached my father, shook hands with him, gave something to me, and then took a seat across from me. I refused to acknowledge him. Refused to see the bouquet of exotic flowers he’d left at my side. Even more, I refused to look at the tiny box he clutched in his palm. Tiny enough to fit an engagement ring. How traditional of him. Why even bother to bring it if they had planned to just tell me I was engaged?
My gaze flitted to the seat beside me where Kelly sat. I could almost hear my mom’s words in my ear. You’re the daughter of a high-ranking female from the Carreg Pack in Wales. A lineage of strong women. Always display dignity, Agatha.
Mom’s refined breeding always battled with the one thing I inherited from Dad: a need for control. I should thank him for it—after I figured out how to get out of this mess. For both my mother and me.
My father spoke quietly with Victor Pershing, as he was introduced to us, about Dad’s plans to claim Kelly as his mate during the next full moon. That was a few weeks away. An ideal time for our marriage to begin, Victor agreed. According to the Code, werewolves mated for life. Apparently, the exception to the case was women like my mother, women who no longer produced children.
No matter how hungry I was, I couldn’t eat another bite. A strange thing for a compulsive overeater like me. My eyes met Dad’s again before I turned away. I should’ve tried to take him out, but my time would come someday.
