You Will Be Mine (New Horizon Book 3)

Chapter 3: Gabe

I’m beyond annoyed that my parents are calling me to the packhouse for family dinner again. I’m well aware that my mother, the Alpha of our New Horizon pack, has been elbow-deep in negotiations with another pack for what she considers to be a vitally important agreement that will supposedly help secure the safety and success of our pack for generations to come. I also know her true motivation: finding me a mate.

The Alpha of said pack has a daughter who is of age and remains unmated. A real beauty, as my mother likes to remind me as often as she can. I’ve met the daughter. She’s cute, but not throwing away my chance at a fated mate cute. Thankfully, my parents have lots of children who can be Alpha. It doesn’t have to be me.

Sure, it’s what was expected for me from the time I was born. I’m the oldest of the current Alpha’s first-born triplets, so it seemed natural that it would be me to take over after her. I’ve shadowed her in her Alpha duties my whole life. I’ve memorized all of werewolf law and our entire pack charter from start to finish. I’ve studied for this, trained for this, and I’m the one best prepared for it – but I also recently turned 24, and there’s still no sign of my fated mate.

That’s a problem in the werewolf world. We’re governed by a council of Elders who have made up all these rules about who can become a pack’s Alpha, and how, and when. The when is the problem here. It’s supposed to happen by the current Alpha’s first child’s twenty-fifth birthday. That ensures that the Alpha power continues to be renewed through the generations before it wanes too much by lingering too long in the same vessel.

Sure, I still have time, but even if I had my fated mate right here ready to mate with me, the Elders would still have to approve of her as a match for me. They’re incredibly careful about who they will allow a prospective Alpha to bring into pack leadership positions. Supposedly, it helps them keep the peace, both within and between packs.

So, I’ve already resigned myself to the reality of my situation. I couldn’t possibly find my mate in time, and I don’t want to take a chosen mate. One of my already mated siblings will have to take over, and soon.

But my parents don’t seem to have accepted that yet. They’ve been calling me over for “family dinners” a lot lately, and every time, it’s to discuss that girl from the Indigo Moon pack. Garrett likes her, so why the hell haven’t they been bothering him about this? He’s as old as I am, minus a few minutes, and has been around for a lot of my Alpha training. He’d make a great second choice. In fact, that’s what I’m going to tell them at dinner tonight.

As I draw closer to the packhouse, my wolf starts stirring within me. That’s surprising, considering that he’d gone dormant again like he does every time I take someone to bed who is not my fated mate.

That’s honestly why I do it. It’s not normal for a werewolf to go this long without at least some inkling of who his mate is, and my wolf gets irritable and restless longing for ours. I get to a point where I can’t take it anymore, and ever since I accidentally discovered that he will shun me completely if I try to work out my angst with the wrong person, that’s been my go-to solution.

It quiets him down for a few days, and that’s a welcome relief. Granted, I can’t shift or heal as quickly when he goes dormant, but it’s a worthwhile sacrifice to make for the peace of mind. Not being able to focus is much worse than some lingering bruises after my morning training sessions.

This time, his restlessness is worse than it has ever been. I’m beyond annoyed. How am I supposed to make it through family dinner this way? If my parents even mention that Indigo Moon girl, I might snap, and one of my dads will be kicking my ass by the end of the night.

The feeling only intensifies as I enter the side door that leads into the kitchen. There’s a scent in here that I can’t quite put my finger on, and it’s driving me nuts trying to figure it out. It’s something fresh, a hint of citrus cut with something else. Mint maybe? Oh, I bet it’s some new herbal tea that Henny has been experimenting with or something like that.

I glance around the room looking for a tea pot, a coffee maker, or anything remotely like that which could explain the scent, but there’s nothing. Just a pot of stew on the stove and some loaves of bread heating in the oven.

“Something I can help you with?” a feminine voice asks from behind me.

She speaks too softly and uncertainly to be Henny, the woman who runs the kitchen and manages the household servants, so I don’t bother calming myself down before I turn around to face her.

I have to suppress the urge to grimace or groan when I see that it’s the slightly chubby, mousy-looking omega who still holds the title for worst time spent fooling around with a random girl. I’m still not even sure why I bothered. Sure, she was flirting with me, as awkward as it was, but I could already tell just from looking at her that she didn’t have much to offer. Sometimes, I get desperate enough not to care, though.

“I thought I smelled some freshly-brewed tea,” I tell her, still glancing around trying to spot it.

“Um, no not that I’m aware of. There’s punch in the dining hall, though,” she offers, nervously playing with her hands.

I can tell that I make her as uncomfortable as she does me and decide to make my leave, stepping around her toward the door to the other room.

“Okay, thanks,” I mumble on my way out.

“Did you want me to make you some tea?” she asks after I’m already striding into the next room.

There’s a hint of desperation to her voice, as if she’s aware that she failed to please me before and fears doing it again. I feel a momentary pang of regret, wishing I didn’t have to be this way, before shaking it off and continuing on my mission to just get this family dinner done and over with.

The scent only intensifies as I make my way upstairs to the Alpha’s floor. Alpha’s floors, I should say. My parents ended up having so many kids that they needed to expand their living space to include more bedrooms. This wing of the packhouse is a proper two-story house inside of a house now, enough space for the three of them and their eight children, and it always brings back a lot of fond memories being here again.

Though I love my family dearly and enjoy living close to them, it was never the same here after my triplet sister Stirling found her Alpha mate and moved away to live with him in Silver Crescent territory. I’m happy for her and proud of the Luna she has become for her new pack, but I couldn’t stay here once she was gone. I left and moved in with my grandparents after that, until quite recently when I finally finished helping to build my own house not far from the packhouse.

“Gabe, you made it,” Tyler, one of my dads, exclaims when he sees me in the kitchen.

My mother has two fated mates, twin brothers, and none of us are quite sure which one is the biological father of which kids. They’ve made a point of never testing to find out. They may not care, but if I’m being completely honest, I often wish I knew which dad is my real dad and which is actually my uncle. But since there’s no chance of them consenting to that, they’re just my dads. And to their credit, they’ve never shown favoritism to any of us.

I think they might suspect that I’m Matt’s, though. They have to, otherwise it makes no sense why they’re trying to convince me to mate with someone who is not my fated mate. Tyler’s wolf is a rare type, an onyx wolf, which can only produce offspring with his fated mate, and the same is true of his children. If they even suspected I was his, they wouldn’t be doing this to me.

It’s probably because Stirling turned out to be a silver wolf, just like Matt. Since she was from the same litter as me, they must figure that’s evidence enough that we’re not onyx-descendants. But here’s the thing, though. They’re brothers, my two dads, and that means that the same genes that created Matt’s silver wolf run through Tyler’s bloodline as well.

I personally suspect that he’s my actual father because of how my wolf acts about women who are not my fated mate. But to be fair to my parents, I’ve never told them about it. I don’t want it to make me appear weak, so I’ve never confessed that to anyone but Garrett, who I know won’t tell a soul unless I okay it.

“Yeah, I decided to come after all,” I tell Tyler with a shrug to show how little I care about it either way.

“Good. We have someone important for you all to meet. Or meet again, I suppose you could say.”

“Ugh,” I grimace, suddenly losing my appetite. “Never mind. I’m out of here.”

I turn around and start heading back out the kitchen door, but he reaches out and grabs my shoulder, abruptly halting me. Sometimes, I forget how strong he is.

“Not her. I promise,” he assures me.

Though my parents have been hounding me about the Indigo Moon girl, they would never do something as low as outright lie to me, so that gives me pause.

“Okay,” I agree, now curious who it might be. “But what is that smell? It’s driving me nuts. Some new herbal tea or something?”

I can’t help sniffing the air again, trying to figure it out. Something is telling me it’s not even coming from this room despite how strong it is in here. Much stronger than downstairs.

He gives me a strange look, tilting his head as he studies me for a moment.

“Huh. We thought maybe it was Aaron the farmer was talking about, if anyone, but we hadn’t considered that it could be you. You haven’t gone with Matt in years, but oh well. I guess this is your lucky night, son.”

What is he even talking about? I think sometimes he forgets that I don’t live here anymore, and I’m not caught up on all the family gossip.

“I feel the need to warn you that she’s human and rather innocent and unworldly,” he goes on to say. “You’ll have to go slow with her. She only learned about werewolves just yesterday and has been pretty quiet about it so far. And she hasn’t asked many questions or anything, so she doesn’t know much about us yet.”

“Okay,” I reply again, uncertainly this time, still wondering what or rather who he’s talking about.

“Follow me,” he says without explaining it further.