Arran

Chapter 1It was early autumn, Arran’s favorite time of the year. He sat in a twenty-four-hour diner in a nowhere town somewhere in…well, he’d been heading vaguely west after leaving the pack in southern Illinois behind two days ago. Traveling by motorcycle suited him well. Not only was he never sitting his ass in a car again, but it gave him freedom people often took for granted. He smiled at the waitress who had been saddled with the night shift as she came and brought him his incredibly late dinner. “Thanks.” She nodded and smiled back, clearly happy that he wasn’t going to make small talk or hit on her. He dug into his hash browns and fried chicken and wondered once again if he should just try to eat healthier. He was past his mid-thirties now and even though he was in decent shape, well…it would be better not to take that for granted. His phone was on the table next to his glass, and when it lit up, he sighed. Incoming call from an unknown number was never a good thing, but even less so just past two in the morning. He put on his earphones and answered. “Arran.” There was a silence, then a clearing of a throat. A feminine voice said, “Uh…I’m calling you from Montana. My pack needs help…I…” Montana. That could only mean one thing. “You don’t happen to be in Marek’s pack?” She sighed. “Yes. I’m Hedy—” “His wife.” He forced himself to take a sip of his coffee. “So, you know who I am. To him, I mean. So why me?” “He doesn’t trust anyone else. I…look, we need help. There’s rumors going around about a strain of new aconite.” That gave Arran a stop. “Wait, I know about that strain. I’ve been trying to chase it, but nobody knows a thing.” “Well, we might have information.” Her tone changed into something hard. “Someone planted aconite on the edge of our property.” That was an intimidation tactic as old as time. “That’s not unheard of,” he pointed out. “No. Except my five-year-old was on a walk with his uncle and touched one of the plants, because of course he did, and he fell unconscious for two days.” “Your son did, not Stefan?” Arran asked, already digging for his notebook from the pocket of his jacket he’d dumped on the seat next to him. “Yes. So, you can understand we’re a little bit shaken and—” “Did Stefan touch the plant at all?” “No, and we left it be, just marked it off.” “Okay, when was this?” He made notes, adding things in his timeline he’d cobbled together in the last two months since he’d left Elena’s pack in New Mexico. “Three days ago. If my son hadn’t woken up yesterday morning, I would’ve gone through my husband to get him help from somewhere.” Arran snorted. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” “No. I’m going over him, not through him. There’s a difference.” Her voice held just a hint of humor, until she asked, “Will you come?” “Yes.” He glanced around the diner, his eyes landing on a map of Nebraska and a star somewhere on the eastern side. “I can be there tomorrow evening, probably late. We’ll see how the weather holds, and I need to sleep before I start the ride.” “Okay. Okay, thank you.” She sounded relieved. “Look, I’m not sure what I can do exactly, but since I’m trying to find answers about the same strain…” “I know. And…” She sighed. “I know this isn’t easy for you. Coming here. I appreciate it more than you know. And when it comes to Marek—” “I’ll be there as soon as I can. See you later.” He cut her off and ended the call. The mating bite scar on the outside of his wrist itched like it hadn’t in a long time. He ignored it. He had a decade of practice, after all. * * * * The waitress pointed him to a motel some twenty miles away, and he drove his tired carcass there for some rest. It was a dingy place, but he’d slept in worse conditions. He also liked that the owner had a garage where he could park his bike behind lock and key, because it was the one thing he wouldn’t part with. As he showered and tried not to look at the obvious mold in the ceiling and the corner, he did his best not to think about the rest of the obvious. The bite itched, or maybe it was a ghost itch or something. He’d been so much more naïve then. It was almost eleven years since he’d been balls deep in the alpha wolf who had told him they were mates. He remembered the way Marek’s eyes had flashed as he bit down and tasted Arran’s blood. And then of course Arran came and the pulsing of his heart made the blood go everywhere. They’d wondered what that particular motel room’s cleaner would think the next day when they’d see the blood and c*m soaked into the bedsheets. They’d left a hefty tip, that was for sure. And then, of course, everything went to hell and Marek took over the pack, became the Alpha, and got himself a nice girl to marry and procreate with. Arran turned off the shower and dried himself half-heartedly. Then he slid under the sheets that felt like cardboard and tried his best to get some sleep. * * * * The drive to Montana was okay. The weather held and even though he took breaks for brunch and early dinner and maybe an extra one to look at some scenery or take a leak or something—whatever would keep him on the road for just a bit longer—he made good time getting there. At first, he’d thought maybe he should just find another motel somewhere and text Hedy that he’d be there the next morning. Then, once he began to recognize the roads he was on, he just couldn’t stop before he got to the pack’s property that almost reached Glen Lake. Arran had grown up in Washington state and well, Marek’s pack had lived in Montana for as long as Arran’s family had in Washington. These parts were familiar to him in so many different ways. The mountains were spectacular. As much as he liked the other end of the Rockies where Elena’s pack was in New Mexico, he preferred this end. As he rode up and down the winding road that led to the pack’s house, he figured he was unprepared. He knew what was going on in the pack, of course, he’d kept tabs even if not directly. Hell, he’d met up with Stefan once a few years back while they were both visiting the same pack in Idaho. There were new yard lights. That was his first thought. The house itself was a gargantuan fancy log house type with a detached six car garage with an apartment in the back of it—towards the incredible view—and another one on the second floor. Stefan probably still lived in the one without stairs. Arran let the bike roll to a stop near the garage. There was no need to put it inside here, and in some ways, he wanted it out there as the means of escape in case things got overwhelming. Not that he’d show that, but all the wolves would know because he couldn’t mask his scent. Well, technically he could, but it was frowned upon, especially when done by someone with a hunting history. “Hey, Arran!” Stefan walked around the corner of the garage, smiling widely. Marek’s kid brother was what, almost thirty now? He looked great, bright-eyed and his limp was less pronounced. “Hey, Stefan,” Arran said after taking off his helmet. He got off his bike and embraced the man he genuinely thought of as a friend. “I’m so glad you came.” The fact that those words didn’t come with a caveat or a footnote of any kind meant more than Arran could explain. “It’s weird, but I’m here.” “Nice eyeliner,” Stefan said, grinning a little. “That’ll piss him off.” “I’m counting on it,” Arran replied, winking. Stefan was still chuckling when the front door opened and a pretty, curvaceous woman stepped out. He’d never seen her before, but somehow she was everything and nothing he’d expected. “Hey, you must be Arran,” she said calmly. She held out her hand, so he went to her and shook it. “I’m Hedy.” “Arran. Nice to meet you.” Her expression said what she thought of the truthfulness of his statement. It made him grin, too. “If you’re hungry, there’s a plate I made for you just in case,” she said, her voice even and friendly. “Yeah, I could eat,” he replied easily. “Mama, can I get water?” A little girl peeked out from the house. Then she noticed Arran. “Oh.” He didn’t have to guess whether her designation was alpha or beta, because instead of showing even a hint of shyness, she stepped outside, closed the door, and walked to the bottom step. “I’m Aspen.” “Good evening, Aspen. I’m Arran.” He approached her with the respect the future Alpha of the pack deserved. He held his hand out to her and shook her tiny one. “Nice to meet you.” “Are you here because of what happened to my baby brother?” she asked, tilting her head as she shook vigorously. “Yes, I am.” “Okay. My daddy’s the Alpha, but he’s with my brothers, reading them a story.” “Okay.” “Go get your water and go listen to your daddy,” Hedy told Aspen. She nodded seriously, turned, and went back inside. “Such a baby alpha,” Arran said, smiling. “Her ‘baby brother’ is a year younger than she is.” Hedy’s tone was dry. “Her older brother is two years older than her. She’s the only alpha.” Ouch. Arran glanced at Stefan, who raised his brows in a “what can you do” kind of way. “Well, I assume that since it’s late, I can hijack Arran once you’ve fed him?” Stefan asked Hedy. She was the Alpha’s mate, even though Arran thought she was probably a beta as she didn’t hold the same kind of aura as Stefan did. She was still a higher-ranking wolf because she was married to the pack’s Alpha, and Stefan would defer to her naturally. Hedy nodded. “Of course.” She turned to Arran. “I thought you’d like to stay either with Stefan or in the other apartment instead of the guestroom.” She’d really done everything she could in this situation. She’d been thoughtful and kind, and she so didn’t need to be. Not with Arran. “Sounds good to me.” “I’ll be at my place. Just grab your stuff and come in when you’ve eaten,” Stefan said, then turned around and started his walk back to his place. When he was out of earshot, Arran quietly said, “His limp is better.” “We have a friend who does laser therapy. Somehow it has helped with regular shifting.” His jaw dropped. “He can shift?” “Yes,” she replied, smiling. “Not often, but he can, and like I said, somehow with the treatment it’s helped his issues.” Arran felt a rush of gratitude toward the universe. “Good.” Hedy smiled, then gestured at the door. “You ready?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Probably not, but what can I do?” Her nose scrunched up as she shrugged. “Not much.” He hated the fact that he was starting to like her. * * * * The inside of the house was as it always had been, except there were new fabrics and some of the flooring had been redone. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” Arran said without any snark. She turned to glance at him as she led him into the kitchen. “Thanks. It was a bit…” “A bit too much Kaja?” “You could say that.” They shared a chuckle, and Arran sat at the island that was new to him while Hedy went to get his food. Kaja had been the Alpha before Marek. She was the mother of Marek, Stefan, and their kid sister Julita. “Where’s Juli these days?” “She’s in Eureka, works at the brewery there. She comes by most weekends, but we think she’s dating someone, so…” “A human?” “Not sure, actually.” Arran hummed thoughtfully. It wasn’t his business, it was the pack’s. But dating a wolf wasn’t safe for humans. It rarely ended well for anyone. He should f*****g know. The microwave dinged, and Hedy placed a plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans in front of him. “Thank you.” “Water or something else?” she asked as she gave him the knife and fork. “Water’s fine.” He cleared his throat, feeling awkward suddenly. She poured him a large glass from a pitcher and huffed with wry amusement. “This became weird again, didn’t it?” “Oh yeah…” They both chuckled again, and just as Arran was picking up his fork, he could feel his consciousness jerked toward the stairs. His head snapped obviously enough that Hedy noticed. Her eyebrows scrunched up, then smoothed back out when she likely heard the steps coming towards them. Wolves heard a lot, they just normally didn’t pay attention. Arran knew that much. “Oh.” Marek’s heavy footfalls stuttered on the stairs for a couple of seconds. Arran could see it in his mind, the tall, strong Alpha gathering himself before taking the last few steps down. And then he was there, rounding the corner as he came to a halt in the kitchen doorway. The bitemark on Arran’s wrist burned at the proximity to his mate. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hedy looking from him to Marek and back, her wolf probably sensing the tension in the air. She twitched, then cleared her throat. “I’ll go check on the kids. I’ll…see you in the morning, Arran.” He nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from Marek. He’d always been tall, taller than Arran even. When he’d last seen his mate, Marek had been six foot and four inches of long muscles that came from being a wolf more than anything. Now, his black hair was graying at the temples and his shoulders were wider somehow, biceps and thighs thicker. Marek at thirty-three had been a gorgeous, easygoing man. Now, at forty-three, he had the weight of the pack on his shoulders. His laugh-lines were deeper but joined with lines from frowning. His gaze was serious, hazel eyes filled with pain and the ever-familiar denial from a decade ago. Arran, unable to find words, turned back to his plate and stabbed a piece of meatloaf with his fork, then brought it to his mouth. He couldn’t have said what it tasted like. “Thanks for coming,” Marek finally murmured. Arran nodded, not taking his eyes off the plate. “Your wife called me; of course I came.” His peripheral vision provided him a view of Marek moving to the other side of the island. “Arran, I—” “No.” Arran neatly placed the knife and fork at four o’clock, took a sip of his water, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he got off the stool and glanced into the eyes of the man he’d never forgotten, because he was physically and mentally altered by one f*****g bite to a point that he couldn’t. “I’ll see you in the morning, Alpha.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the house. He wasn’t sure how he made it to his bike and was able to grab his bag off it. The next thing he registered were Stefan’s arms around him as he collapsed against his friend.