The Change (Fated Series: book1)
Chapter 15 - Arrivals

Brandon

They were visiting one of the most prosperous packs in the Northern Hemisphere. True, Blackwood was a neighboring pack and he expected a certain level of privilege, yet he was still unprepared for the lavish surroundings. Everything was trimmed, manicured and placed with a precision of an exquisite taste. Juliet kept on admiring everything her eyes landed on. He knew she enjoyed the fine things and details because of the statement they made - we are strong, we can afford this. But it was easy to put up a show of strength with an unlimited budget. Brandon would like to see Alpha Ned hold a pack together with the finances Rover Grove had. Now that was a challenge.

Juliet’s awed voice reminded him of everything Rover Grove could never be. Her vision of implementing innovations Blackwood considered normal would just stay admirable ideas. They could never have such a wide berth of finances to spend thousands on landscape alone.

His good intention of taking Juliet to Blackwood backfired. It would take them years to reach the level of confidence and stability Blackwood had at its disposal. Until then he would have to hear all about Blackwood all over and over again, as she would never be satisfied with what Rover Grove had to offer. It was simple, Blackwood would always be better off than Rover Grove for the foreseeable future.

The good five-minute long driveway leading to the estate inspired respect and humbled the guests upon their arrival. Every single detail of the surroundings was planned and executed for maximum impact on visitors, humbling them before the impressive front of the Blackwood’s Pack House. The welcome party stood in front of the main entrance at ground level. It was Alpha Ned’s choice to be perceived as approachable and warm - two things that the old dog was most certainly not.

Brandon wondered if he did Nessa a favor sending her to this pack. She would be much happier and well taken care of here. He could never understand the spite with which she denied any suggestion of a financial aid from him. He might not be her mate, but he was a good Alpha.

Headstrong woman!

“Hon, look at the building. It’s marvelous! Do you think I’d be able to replace some time to draw?” Juliet looked at him expectantly. He was convinced had she not been Alpha-born she would have made a great architect.

“Someone is extra chipper today,” Brandon chuckled. Her enthusiasm was contagious and for a moment he forgot all his troubles. “I’m sure Ned wouldn’t mind. But just don’t venture far from the house and take Yanis with you.”

Brandon replied and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

White lies were about the only thing left between them. Sure, once there was a spark, but then life got in the way. Roland was born and duties took priority. His days were almost identical to each other without any thrill or excitement. Until recently his heart had never known pain.

It wasn’t easy to sever ties with your Fated. But you did what you could, Brandon reminded himself, chasing away the image of a set of warm brown eyes he had always treasured.

Alpha Ned looked like the calm before the thunderstorm. His whole appearance was collected, but if one took a moment to look in his eyes, they could see they were clouded with dark quiet rage. Brandon knew just how hard it was to lose a Fated. If that grief was amplified with the sorrow of burying an unborn child, Brandon knew he would not be able to get up in the morning, much less rule a pack. Ned was living on borrowed time and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind the madness would soon take over. Whether it was he lived for his pack or for revenge, one thing was certain. His eventual death would bring opportunity in the region.

As the car pulled in the semicircular driveway, Brandon tensed. He did not like the stance Alpha Ned assumed, nor the presence of a bulky blond guy who Brandon could not recognize. No matter how much Brandon stained his ears he could not pick up anything above a murmur. Before someone noticed his attempt to overhear their conversation, he helped Juliet out of the car. When they approached the two men, Brandon felt the Beta-authority the blond man carried. Rumor had it, Alpha Ned was grooming his Beta to take over the pack should something happen to him. Without an heir, the Alpha authority could be transferred to a Beta, provided there was no Alpha-blood willing to assume the responsibility.

The presence of the highest ranking wolves of Blackwood pack as welcoming party only made Brandon more anxious. They were setting the tone of his visit, making it far more official than Brandon had hoped for. It was clear. This show of strength was to convince Brandon to sign an alliance decree, which so far he had been successfully avoiding. It was one thing to cease an opportunity if there was an empty seat, and a whole other to search for trouble. War was certainly not in Rover Grove’s five-year plan.

The authority radiating from the pair contradicted their seemingly relaxed postures. Despite their posturing, Brandon was not fooled. They were fully trained and vicious animals held back in check by human norms. Unlike them, Brandon wasn’t born an Alpha. His wolf was not as dominant and instinctively knew his place in nature’s pecking order. He did not need to see or fight a wolf to know who would outrank him. He would stay out of the way of such power-disputes. It was a skill no other Alpha possessed. He looked at Juliet – the source of his title and the woman of his dreams if his Skin was concerned. She was always well put together, proper. Nessa was her opposite - wild and inappropriate at times. He chased away the image of the brunette and focused on the blond hairs of his wife in time to notice his second in command Yanis, flanking Juliet’s other side. The Alpha Female was protected at all times.

“Welcome, Alpha Brandon, Luna Juliet. I’m Cameron and I am the Blackwood’s Beta,” Beta Cameron started with a greeting proper for any other couple. The tensed muscles of Juliet’s face suggested she took his greeting as an insult. Bandon felt a sharp pain in his right cheek, enough to know Juliet had bid down hers in order to stay silent and not to react to the disrespectful greeting. Brandon didn’t think there was any intent on greeting her second but to Juliet such details mattered.

“Alpha Ned, Beta Cameron. I am so glad to put a face to the name, Beta,” Juliet replied trying to hold her tongue but failing at the end. Perhaps only Brandon noticed the purposeful use of the Beta tittle as a condescending remark.

It would serve Beta Cameroon well to remember Juliet was the Alpha-blood in the marriage and although Brandon carried the Alpha title, Rover Grove was governed by a strong Alpha-Female. Brandon smiled. He was truly blessed to be her Chosen.

By the end of the evening they had managed to impress Juliet and sadly, Brandon knew he would be living through a constant stream of praises to Alpha Ned. Juliet was sold on all he was selling the moment he had mentioned alliance. Whether or not she meant it remained to be seen. Juliet was as cunning and well-versed in politics as any Alpha-heir. Her gender fooled many into a false sense of security. Fools would always underestimate her mind and rightfully pay a price.

The truly infuriating part of watching her charm them when he was just as lost as they were in figuring out her agenda. Juliet never fully trusted anyone with her plans. They were supposed to be a team, yet Brandon was as lost as to figuring her intentions as the poor mutts in front of him. So much for Chosen Mate! The connection would never be as strong or pure as with a Fated. It would have never happened had Nessa been the one by his side. After all, he was her mate, her God, her everything. She would have blindly followed him and supported him. In times like this, Brandon could definitely see the benefit of having a Fated mate.

Brandon quickly scanned the surroundings and then took a deep breath to try to catch Nessa’s alluring scent. Yes, she had been there at some point of the day. Had she moved to the Pack House? Or did she come here to resolve a problem? And if so, what could it be? He badly wanted to see her to prove to himself she was all right. Was that too much to ask?

Brandon blinked nervously as to clear his head. He should not be so distracted. Not now at least. But later, he promised himself to replace Vanessa and have a heart to heart with her. Things could not be allowed to stay the way they were for much longer. But right now, he had to focus on the task at hand.

“What is your plan, Ned?” Brandon thought, shooting a wary look at the wolf in question. Although a powerful ally was more than desired, Brandon was concerned about its cost. He could not be the only one who could see the closeness between the Alpha and Beta. If anything befell Alpha Ned, Beta Cameron would be responsible for this pack or keep the Alpha-seat warm for Alpha Riley, Ned’s best childhood friend, and an annoyingly rich hotel tycoon. That was Blackwood’s end game. But what was Juliet’s? Was she going to make a play for Blackwood or support a friendly individual for a hostile-takeover of the pack? Certainly staying neural until they figured which way the wind turned would be the safest but least profitable way to play out things. If Brandon hasn’t taken opportunities, he would still be a Beta.

Let them believe all they want that he was weak and indecisive, while he prepared himself for the inevitable. Rover Grove would be triumphant and he would be recognized as an Alpha based on his own merit, not because of his marriage to Juliet. A marriage which proved to be beneficial so far. Brandon knew bearing a male heir would not be his only accomplishment. He would show them he was born for greatness.

Nessa

Driving additional fifteen minutes was much more tiring than Nessa thought. She had to consistently pinch herself in order not to fall asleep behind the wheel. The last thing she needed was to crash her car. Sure, it wasn’t much of a car, but it was her only source of transportation. A beep and the hatred image of the oil-change indicator illuminated her dashboard. Nessa swore, now fully awake.

“Seriously? Didn’t you just got serviced?”

It hadn’t been a day since she had gotten it back from the mechanic.

“Reliable service my ass,” Nessa grumbled, hitting the steering wheel in anger. She wanted to cry, to scream her frustration. There was no budget for any additional repairs. The mechanics had taken advantage of her clueless nature or the car was on its last breath. Nessa was not ready to admit either one of those bitter truths. The image of the bare chest of a certain green-eyed Alpha came to her mind without an invitation. Nobody would even try to pull a fast one on him. Although it was his fault, she had to drive further each day, she held onto her stupid pride. She would not cry over her problems on a man’s shoulder. No. She would replace a way to fix them herself.

But she could imagine him shirtless with motor oil staining his strong hands as he repaired her car. It was a sight to behold even if Marcus possibly didn’t know the first thing about car mechanics.

She took a deep breath, deciding a reputable repair shop had to exist. If Google had failed her, Cameron surely knew someone in the pack who could at least take a look at her car. Finally reaching the backyard parking, Nessa jumped out of the nine-year-old ford sedan and slammed the door shut, only to see her driver’s window gape open. Yet one more thing that should have been fixed. Nessa gritted her teeth, not bothering to unlock the car and pushed up the window up. There was no rain in the forecast and she felt confident if someone was stupid enough to steal a car from a pack house they would not bother with her junker but go after one of the Bentleys parked nearby.

Her eyes lingered on the prominent B. It seemed ridiculous to be attracted to a letter because of Fate’s stupid choice, yet Brandon was the one she thought about as she cut through the parking lot full of fancy cars.

She focused on what she needed – a car with good gas mileage and no pending repairs. But even for such a car, she needed money, she didn’t have. It all boiled down to her next story. She needed to sell it properly this time around. She was robbed blindly from the proceeds from her first werewolf novel by both publishing company and agent. The few thousand dollars she made went to pay off her parent’s debt. Now, she had to put herself first.

The knitted cardigan barely provided any warmth against the frosty wind, and Nessa rushed through the backdoor, her sleeve covering her yawn. The sounds of glasses and chatter filtered through her ears. The Pack House was up in this ungodly hour partying. She rolled her eyes at such a social lifestyle.

All she wanted to do is take a shower and crawl into bed, maybe write for a while about the adventures and love she would never have in her life. Then she would fall asleep and dream some more of her characters. That was her creative process and although it didn’t seem much, it worked for her.

Nessa was dead tired. Even her werewolf nature was not efficient enough to balance her consistent sleep deprivation. Nessa mindlessly walked through the halls making her way up to her room, when she caught her reflection in the mirrors. The once vibrant face now had dark circles under her eyes and a pale complexion she attributed to the lack of connection with her wolf. Her long slightly curly hair cascaded down her shoulders, held back by a loose hair tie that had seen better days. Whoever thought waitressing was easy had obviously not served a table in their lives. It wasn’t only the overly touchy customers one had to be aware of at all times. The greasy stains on her uniform were not deterrent for most wondering eyes to examine the revealing cleavage of her work attire. Nessa had a love-hate relationship with the dinner. It provided security where there was none, yet took away from her dignity night after night. Being considered “one of the cute ones” most certainly didn’t help. She huffed. She wasn’t cute. She was normal. Ordinary! No point of fussing about it.

She chose to focus on the customers left her as well as the overheard stories she would portray in her writing. It was a better outlook of life than focusing on the dinner’s smell and grease permeating her clothes and pores to the point where a warm shower was mandatory not only to soothe her aching muscles but to wash the grime of the past night.

She was just passing the landing on the second floor when a blond she-wolf exited one of the rooms on her left. Smudged mascara, tousled hair and a shirt which was barely half-way buttoned. Oh, the walk of shame. Before Nessa could pass her by, she froze mid stride and her eyes landed on certain green-eyed Alpha walking through the very same door. His messy hair and semi-tucked shirt in his pants painted a self-explanatory picture.

Why did she think he would be any different than the rest? Despite his invitation to the pack house and dinner date at the kitchen, she had the proof of just how much she meant to him. They had a one-night stand, and it was her fault of letting her imagination to paint a different picture. His face distorted with what she would call regret before it became void of any emotion. Did he regret he got caught, or his involvement with her, however, brief it had been?

She quickly rounded the corner, colliding nose-first into a broad chest. Strong arms wrapped around her and steadied her, then gently put a distance between them as not to alarm her with their proximity.

“Considerate,” the thought raced through her mind.

“Where have you been all my life?” The raspy voice asked.