Filed to story: Claimed by My Ex’s Alpha Brother
The doors to the terrace were thrown open, and already lots of elegantly dressed males and females from New York packs mingled on the terrace, the sea breeze welcome in the heat of the evening.
The garish d?cor of bright lights and too many flowers made me miss the understated stylishness the place had in my youth when Blackthorn Pack had been under the leadership of my mother. As I paused to look at the terrace, I could almost see my mother walking in a white linen dress. The driftwood she liked to have brought up from the beach gave an authenticity to this place, marrying into its surroundings in a way the gauzy lights and bling didn’t. It was hard to see this place washed out of its character. I remember when my mother had stood at its center, greeting shifter high society to these receptions with a strong yet caring and compassionate kind of leadership.
The Blackthorn pack’s original alpha had been my mother, Charlotte Blackthorn. Magnus had killed her to seize the alpha position. Although I’d never found evidence against him, it was the sole reason I was still here, working night and day to ingratiate myself into every aspect of his business and life so that I could eventually prove his crimes and destroy him. That fire had been burning in my soul for almost a decade since my mother’s death. It was a fire that had been fueled by the fact that he’d almost got his grasping hands on Lina, too. No female deserved such a fate. That’s what I’d told myself as I’d orchestrated the attack on their mate ceremony. But even now, as I stood on the terrace, thinking about Lina and how she’d disappeared that day was both a torment and a blessing.
Forcing myself to bury the past, I hurried upstairs to my room, took a shower, and donned a tux.
Soon, I was back down on the terrace, greeting my packmates-Blackthorns and Silvermoons-as well as the entrepreneurs and investors of other packs.
After the attack at the mate ceremony and the deaths of Hector and Miriam Silvermoon, their alpha and luna, the Silvermoons had been absorbed into Blackthorn. Their presence made many whisper about the possibility that Magnus had instigated the attack, a rumor my rogue, totem-marked wolves fanned whenever they got the chance. I felt a pang of sorrow at the thought of Lina losing her parents-parents who had been decent, honorable leaders-caught in the turbulence of an unwarranted power struggle.
“Hi, Caleb, how’s it going?” I greeted warmly, shaking hands with the heir of the Ashford Pack, one of the males I would be presenting to tomorrow.
“Hi, Stephen. I’m good, thanks. I need to be honest, though. I’m a little surprised my father wanted us to come tonight, given our current situation.”
He was referring to the fact that Ashford Corporation was threatening to pull out of our partnership. Here we go again, I told myself. It’s time to smooth over any ruffled feathers while ensuring Magnus comes out on top, no matter how little he deserves it.
“I’m glad you both came,” I said smoothly. “My father’s actually put me in charge of renegotiation tomorrow. Perhaps you can share some of your ideas with me after dinner?”
Caleb looked surprised but visibly relaxed as he said, “I’d be glad to.”
As always, I maneuvered through business with a calm and charming demeanor. I remained focused, telling myself that in the future, when I was the head of Blackthorn Pack and our business, I wouldn’t screw the other New York packs over like Caleb’s, who, unfortunately, was a nice guy and didn’t deserve the underhanded tactics we were employing. But the same burning desire that had consumed me kept me steady now. Soon, I would pull the rug out from under Magnus. It was maintaining this fa?ade of dutiful son and beta and sacrificing my own moral compass that was going to allow that.
Suddenly, the scent of jasmine pulled my attention, sharp and alluring. I scanned the crowd, keeping my expression neutral as emotions churned just below the surface.
Then, amidst laughter and banal chatter, my breath caught. A figure across the terrace struck me-golden hair shimmering under the lights, a confident posture that sent recognition prickling over me.
I froze, the world fading in a blur of noise and color as disbelief surged within me, my heart pounding like thunder.
Excusing myself from Caleb, I found my grip on reality slipping as I strode along the terrace, my gaze landing on a slender beauty in a long lavender evening dress, her bright stare fixed on the sea view.
Am I dreaming? How is Lina here?
Lina
The afternoon sunshine painted patterns across the living room of my Philadelphia villa, chasing away the morning chill.
My daughter, Betty, a whirlwind of pink tulle pirouetted across the sheepskin rug.
“Look Mommy! Look. I’m a bird!” she shouted, arms outstretched.
The memory of Swan Lake, the ballet we’d seen last month, still held her captive. I had bought her the cutest little ballet shoes, and she kept trying to point her toes, sending her stumbling onto the soft sheepskin rug. But every day, she got steadier.
I clapped, smiling. “Beautiful, Sweetie. As graceful as a swan, nearly.” The “nearly” might have been overly generous, given the wobbles, but her face, alight with fierce determination, stole my heart.
The memory of my own mother surfaced, her voice, soft as a summer breeze, using the story of Swan Lake to help me understand my shifter heritage. “Just like the princess, one day you’ll change too. You see, we’re wolves, Lina, who can change whenever we want to.” A pang broke through me. It had been five years since the day I’d lost her and my father, and although I’d built a new life, her loss was most apparent in these beautiful, seemingly everyday moments when it hurt to think she’d never see her granddaughter.
“Mommy, I’s flying,” Betty called out as she threw her arms out wide and twirled.
“Magnificent!” I enthused, my own thoughts drifting. Betty’s joy, her embracing the story and magic, was a gift from my mother, a legacy. I imagined explaining her own shifter abilities using the story of Swan Lake, just as my mother had. The thought both soothed and stung.
I turned my gaze out the picture window. The world outside, with its twenty acres and quiet luxury, felt a million miles removed from the concrete heart of New York. Yet, I’d never taken my hand off the city’s pulse.
From here in Citrus Hill, I monitored Magnus Blackthorn and his company’s dealings. I’d built a network of wellness products, a company called Luna Remedies. We were dedicated to the ethical practice of using herbal and natural remedies. To the major pharma players, including Blackthorn Corp, we weren’t a company worth looking at. But I had built a secret empire underneath. Blackthorn didn’t know the wealth and information I was acquiring. My business was built on grey-market dealings.
Each day, I reminded myself that my journey with Blackthorn wasn’t over. From the rumors my team and I had collected, the consensus was that Magnus had organized the attack of the rogue wolves at our mate ceremony, meaning to do away with the Silvermoon Pack alpha, luna, and its heir in one fell swoop. We hadn’t found proof, but Magnus had snatched control of the Silvermoon Pack after my parents had been killed and believed I was gone. But I was like a vengeful ghost, gathering my strength and biding my time. The past remained alive, and the flames of vengeance still burned within me.
“I’s tired,” Betty said, collapsing on the rug.
“Nap time, Swanling,” I said gently, smoothing her hair.
“No!” she protested.
“But don’t you want to snuggle up and read Swan Lake?”
The magic word!
Betty danced toward the child gate at the bottom of the stairs. I lifted her into my arms, carrying her upstairs. Within minutes of starting the story, she was asleep in her bed.
Ballet really is a godsend.
I secured the safety gate at the top of the stairs, hoping to get a couple of hours of work done before she woke.
I had fled to Philadelphia after the attack, seeking refuge with a close-knit group of university friends. They were both shifters but came from a small, unassuming pack here in Philly. They had little knowledge of the ruthless shifter world I belonged to, and for a time, I’d disappeared from the shifter community, attempting to rebuild my shattered life amidst the ordinary. Accessing my bank accounts had proved impossible, with Magnus Blackthorn exerting his grip over what was left of my parents’ business and resources, and I had to start anew.
Through sheer determination, I’d built my company from the ground up. We had offices in the city of Philadelphia, but I moved my core team here to Citrus Hill a couple of years ago, which gave me much more time with Betty.
Back in the living room, my hand went to the book that opened my team’s secret office. Emily, my employee and friend, had insisted on the bookcase entrance when we’d renovated my villa to house our office. She, along with my trusted assistant, Matthew, were the only two who knew all of my secrets.
I walked into our office, my gaze instantly drawn to the back wall where six huge screens were taken up by Emily’s hacker operations. The monitors displayed a constant stream of data, Em’s code the sole artwork in our otherwise white-walled space. She had an array of cacti on her desk, along with a sea of coffee cups that told me she’d either been hard at work since early morning or had pulled an all-nighter.
Mine and Matthew’s desks were minimalist, with clean surfaces hosting laptops and organized piles of paperwork. The whole space was brightened by the concealed skylight, the only window so as to help keep our space secret.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?