On the mild spring night when the sparkling stars came out to celebrate with the wolves of Snow Pines, Ethan was searching for a place to hide. After a furtive glance to the left and right, he ducked behind a red velvet curtain covering the entrance to the corridors of the main Veteran's Hall. He chugged down water with a slice of lemon to quench his dry throat.
Then, he pressed the cool glass of leftover ice against his tired eyelids, sighing with relief.
Though he was proud and happy to inaugurate Eri and Brent as his betas, the prolonged festivities were exhausting. His facial muscles felt caked into the smile he had plastered on his face all day.
Curious if anyone had noted his absence, he pulled the heavy drapery back with a finger and peeked around it.
Though smaller than the Vanguard's auditorium, the Victorian-era architecture of the Veteran's Hall made it seem grander and elegantly fancy. White painted stucco covered the ceiling, held up by think round columns circling the room. Heavy velvet draperies emphasized the detailing around the majestic arched windows, and multi-tiered chandeliers threw a soft glow over the highly polished dance floor.
Men and women in starched uniforms, tuxedos, and ritzy evening gowns waltzed to the melodious tune from the jazz orchestra.
"Pssst!" Ethan hissed at a black-vested waitress passing by, not caring about the prestige of the white, alpha uniform he wore. He snatched a full glass off the tray she balanced on one hand and replaced it with his empty one. Then he shooed her away before someone spied his hideaway.
Unfortunately, he was not sneaky enough to evade at least one set of eyes.
"I knew it was you," Eri accused, sliding next to him behind the curtains. Three newly embroidered stars glittered around the wolf's head on his midnight blue uniform.
"I wasn't sneaking off."
"Yeah, right," his new beta responded in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Don't worry, I know how you feel. A week of traditions and formalities will tire anyone out. But I need you to hang in there for one more hour to let the alcohol set in. Then, no one will notice when you leave. Looks like Brent has got the west coast situation in hand."
Ethan strained his neck, searching until his red eyes landed on the latest Beta Johnson. Dressed in the Vanguard's army green uniform, Brent was the spitting image of his father, who stood on the other side of the room with Breanna. The only differences were the decorations on their chest. Eric had twice the number of multi-colored pins than his son, and his pack badge was a silver metallic oak tree instead of the two pine cones. The white emeritus tassel on his shoulder was the latest decoration the former beta had also acquired.
But Brent's limited commendations did not dim his prominence as he worked the floor. Ethan's beta was in his element, chatting with the Washington Wolves' second-in-command and their head of Vanguards. Two other men stood next to them, chuckling heartily at Brent's joke.
"Who're those beside the west coast beta?" Ethan asked Eri over the pack channel.
"Timbre Wolves," his friend snarled. "They've been trying to get an audience with you for months... must be desperate if they chose to gatecrash this party on the Washington Wolves ticket."
"I wonder what they want. They're so far up north they're naturally protected from vampires and witches."
Eri sneered as he responded over the link. "Not far enough. A few of the covens fleeing the states settled just south of their territory, and they can't seem to dislodge them. Washinton Wolves are the only pack inclined to help due to proximity, but they've got the scuffle with Mistress Celine to worry about."
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Blooded Mate
Fantasy[[MATURE CONTENT]] Pack, family, mate. Loyalty, respect, honor. These are the words that form the foundation of the wolf society. At six years old, Ethan had to choose between his Alpha title and his survival on the night of his father's death. As a...
