Charmed Wolf

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There are few things more amusing than growly, dominant werewolves coated in glitter. No wonder my friend Ash raised a hand to cover his grin as Willa stormed into my office without knocking.

“Alpha,” she addressed me, ignoring Ash as irrelevant, “you have an appointment in half an hour.”

And she had a streak of glitter that started below her right eyebrow and arched up wildly toward her buzz-cut hairline. As if she’d tried to apply mascara and had her elbow jiggled at just the wrong moment.

Which, knowing the fifty-something, ramrod-spine Beta that I’d inherited from my father, was nowhere near the origin of that smear of cornstarch-based metal-mimic marring her forehead. When you run a glitter factory, sometimes sparkles end up in the wrong place.

“Should we tell her?” My words were silent, sent down the pack bond that connected me to the closest thing I had to a brother, the guy who just so happened to be the bringer of the snacks scattered across my desk.

Yes, I’d worked through lunch again. Yes, Ash had fixed my error. No wonder I let him make the call.

“Not quite yet, Tara,” Ash replied. “It’s always good to have an escape hatch when dealing with Willa.” His tone was mischievous and I got the impression that he enjoyed being the devil on my shoulder.

If he was the devil, Willa was the angel. The one always reining me in to the reality of my new responsibilities. “Alpha,” she repeated, eyebrows drawing together.

“I have a name,” I told her mildly.

“I know you do, Alpha. Just like your father did and his father before him.” Her smile turned grim. “The pack doesn’t need to know that name, however. You were Heir. Now you’re Alpha. And if you don’t get a move on, you’re going to be late.”

I reached around a baggie of baby carrots—Ash sometimes arrived with strangely healthy food for a shoulder devil—and clicked over to the screen with my calendar on it. “I don’t recall any meeting. Did you find contact info for Greenpeace’s purchase agent?”

Willa scowled. Since Father died and I inherited both my role and her help as interim second-in-command, she was perpetually scowling. But the lines in her forehead deepened now in response to my question. “They are prey. We are predators.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” I slammed the laptop shut. Straightened and let my inner wolf growl at her. “Biodegradable glitter would make glitter bombs more sustainable. Greenpeace is in the business of sustainability and protest. They’re an obvious partner. You’ll call them tomorrow.”

The words reverberated with Alpha power I hadn’t possessed until six months ago. No wonder Willa fought against my compulsion.

First she tried to wrest her gaze away from mine. Then, when that failed, she called up her own inner wolf to snarl behind her eyeballs. A glint of fangs, the scent of fur, a warning that she had a strong beast just waiting to get out.

The attempt at intimidation didn’t work though. I was Alpha. She was only Beta. Inch by inch, Willa’s head bowed downward until her eyes latched onto the sustainable bamboo flooring I’d installed to attract the right sort of client. The flooring she’d argued wouldn’t stand up under lupine claws.

Her words now came out more like ground glass than glitter. “Yes, Alpha.”

Teeth sharp, I nodded. Willa would call Greenpeace and we’d make a sale.

I hoped. Because this factory—this crazy, unwolflike glitter factory I’d let my best friend talk me into building—was all that stood between the Whelan clan and insolvency. I refused to be the Alpha responsible for the decline and fall of our pack.

***

WE TOLD WILLA ABOUT the glitter smear after that, which sent her scurrying home to shower off the offending particles. What we didn’t tell her was that I’d received a heads-up from the glitter-bomb-testing committee that they were waiting at the second-floor window just above the entrance in preparation for a stealth attack.

“I mean, she’s going to shower anyway,” Ash observed as he pushed a platter of chocolate-cranberry cookies in my general direction. “Might as well....”

Willa’s roar cut through his words and I couldn’t resist. I swiveled my chair around and pushed open the window so I could see the aftermath.

The air was so full of swirling sparkles that I couldn’t even make out Willa for a moment. I could see the glitter bombers, though, their entire torsos hanging out the window beneath me. The scientists’ eyes were wide, their mouths opening to form words I couldn’t hear but which I suspected were: “Oh shit.”

Willa was the very last werewolf they would have chosen to test their glitter bomb on.

They were frozen, but I ran through scenarios at the speed of Alpha. Could Willa shift to wolf form and make it all the way up the stairs before the glitter-bombers fled the premises? Just in case, I dropped another alpha command on her: “You will not tear anyone’s throat out.”

Amidst the subsiding sparkles, one glittery fist curled tighter. The other opened out to reveal a single finger. But Willa didn’t make a move to retaliate against the throwers of glitter.

They, in contrast, had curled in on themselves as the shockwave of my command rolled downward. The stronger of the two coughed out an apology. “Alpha, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see who was coming....”

My lips twitched, but I firmed them back up. “Perhaps next time you’ll confirm your test subject’s identity before launching.”

“Yes, Alpha. Of course, Alpha. It’s just that no one is willing to be glitter bombed....”

“I wouldn’t mind it.” I let a smile break out across my face. Five minutes of glorious sparkle followed by thirty minutes of relentless scrubbing? Sounded like a much-needed break from the spreadsheets, letters, and bills on my desk.

The silence below was deafening. The glitter bombers’ eyes grew so wide I might as well have suggested tap-dancing n***d in Times Square.

Willa’s response was more understated but also more powerful. She met my gaze and shook her head. Once. Hard.

The gesture dislodged a cloud of sparkles, which should have been hilarious. Instead, it struck me like a punch to the gut.

No, my Beta was saying, that was inappropriate behavior for an Alpha. Especially one who’d only held her position for six months.

Behind me, Ash hummed commiseration. But I didn’t need to be patted on the back, literally or verbally. I was Alpha.

So I straightened my spine until I resembled Willa, only significantly less sparkly. “Just kidding,” I told the glitter bombers.

Then I closed the window more quietly than I wanted to before retreating to my desk.

***

ASH LEFT AFTER THAT. He always knew when to make himself scarce. And the factory gradually emptied out as the work day ended.

Which didn’t mean I was off the hook. As long as a single wolf remained in my vicinity, I remained on call.

For example: “Do you need anything else, Alpha?” asked the ten-thousandth shifter to intrude upon my day.

I didn’t glance up this time because the speaker happened to be the lowest wolf on our totem pole. Perpetually terrified, he tended to pee his pants every time I made eye contact. “No, thank you,” I answered. “You can go home.”

Another two minutes of typing, then another voice: “Alpha, it’s quitting time and the pups are antsy.”

The spreadsheet in front of me contained far too many red cells. Negative income since we’d yet to find any buyers for our product, the product I’d dreamed up to replace my father’s outdated but fiscally responsible tobacco-growing enterprise. I wanted to tear my hair out and scream.

Instead, I graced this pack mate with a smile. He could handle eye contact. Craved it, actually. My attention proved there was an Alpha in charge even though my father’s body had been reduced to ash then returned to the forest.

“Take the pups for a run then,” I suggested, although I shouldn’t have had to state the obvious. “No one will see you. The humans left an hour ago.”

The pup minder backed away bowing, as if I was a medieval ruler. “Thank you, Alpha. I’m sorry, Alpha.”

Drat. Must have let a little annoyance seep into my voice.

I tamped down stray emotion, or seemed to. Because the next two pack mates didn’t prostrate themselves on the floor with their bellies exposed. They left, instead, with bounces in their steps and the smiles of wolves content in their pack.

For my part, I fell deeper into my spreadsheet as the litany of “Alpha”s faded. Such relief to have half an hour of solitude before I needed to prepare for an evening of challenges.

But, no. Challenges weren’t the only item remaining on my to-do list. An email from Willa dinged in my inbox. Inside was the information we’d both forgotten while I was letting the devil on my shoulder guide my actions.

My industrious Beta had set up an appointment with a potential Consort. A mandatory part of my transition to leadership. One I didn’t relish.

And, yes, I was going to be late.