The Alphas & The Heiress

Rohanor

“She’s late.”

“It’s 5:01, that’s hardly late.” Varian rolls his eyes at me.

“She swore she’d have Incandis bring her here by 5.” I growl back.

“Maybe they’re stuck in traffic.” He bites back a smirk. Fucking smartass.

“You think you’re fucking hilarious. Call him, I want her home with us now.”

Varian may think I’m overreacting but I really don’t give a shit. Mags has been out of sorts the past few days; barely eating, exhausted, reading and re-reading archive texts. I’m hoping that tonight’s pack dinner will give her a place to relax where she’s not constantly reminded of her mission. Just for tonight I want her to focus only on relaxing. I want her to let us introduce her as our mate and Luna, to let us be the strong ones while she socializes and mingles carefree.

“Hey Incandis, is Mags ready to go?” I hear Varian ask over the phone.

There’s a disturbingly long pause before Incandis speaks. “She texted me saying she was getting Xander to bring her. Let me go track them down.”

As much as I trust Mags with her guards, I’m still not thrilled about Xander always being around. Plus dragons don’t have the same ways of life as wolves. There’s not a single wolf in our pack who would dare let their eyes linger on their Luna. They know Varian and I would kill them on sight. I don’t have the same authority in the Grove that I do as Alpha. Not yet anyway. But I can’t promise I won’t kill them all the same.

We haven’t talked much about what will happen when everything settles down. Varian and I both understand her reasons, she needs to focus all her energy on finding her family. But that doesn’t stop the occasional pangs of rejection from constricting my chest. Our wolves are becoming impatient, they want the mating ceremony to occur as soon as possible so we can fill her belly with our next Alpha.

Little under a month ago I didn’t even want a mate. Then the flaming tornado that is my mate dropped into our territory and suddenly I’m salivating at the thought of her belly swollen with pups.

A rustling of papers from wind with no apparent source shakes me loose of my wayward thoughts.

“For fuck’s sake, Incandis!” Varian shouts.

I look up just in time to see Incandis teleporting into our office by Varian’s desk.

“Can’t you teleport on Ro’s side? Does it always have to be mine? Or better yet the front door?”

“Sorry, habit. Mags has her desk on this side, too.” He tries for levity but there’s an undercurrent of worry in his voice.

Quickly, his normally calm, commanding demeanor dissolves and is replaced by a frantic panic.

“We may have a problem. I looked everywhere for her but she’s gone, she’s not in the Grove. I found this in her office and this in her room.”

Varian and I immediately bolt out of our seats. Incandis hands us a picture and a piece of paper — a note with her handwriting on it.

I don’t have to ask who the men in the photo are, Incandis and Mags are carbon copies of one of the men – their father. Which means the other man in the photo must be their uncle. They’ve been chained to a stone wall and both have fresh cuts and bruises all over their bodies.

“Does this note mean anything to you, Incandis?” Varian asks him through a clenched jaw, his anger just now beginning to spike through our bond.

“Last week, when we met with Elder Rimori, Mags wanted to teleport into Drow Hollow and torch the place. I told her I wasn’t going to allow her to wind up as a sacrificial lamb and that we needed to do some research and get organized before we stormed in.” His words are rushed, matching the pace of his heartbeat.

“Whoever sent this picture knew it would push her over the edge.” The paper makes a satisfying crunch as I crush it in my fist.

“And…” Incandis starts but hesitates with a grimace.

“And what, Incandis?” Varian pushes.

Incandis nervously scratches at the back of his neck, then runs his hands down his face. He’s acting so out of character, I’ve never seen him so scattered.

“And Xander told me that Mags asked him to teleport her here this morning. He dropped her off in the gardens. My guess would be that she had him teleport her somewhere no one would spot her, then she took off by herself towards the coordinates on the envelope.”

“Fuck!” Varian and I growl in unison.

I could throw a dart at any adjective between aggravating and stubborn and I’d hit one that describes my mate. On any other day her free spiritedness and fuck-you-attitude would have amused me. I feel myself smirking just thinking about her – my hellion – but that moment of happiness vanishes like a dream when I remember my waking nightmare; Mags is missing. My wolf and I long for her, he’s equal parts furious and depressed that she left us to go off on her own.

Did she not trust us? Did she think we wouldn’t be able to help? Varian and I are supposed to be her other half, the people that make her whole, the ones that support her, cherish her, and protect her. And she fucking left us.

I can’t let my emotions swallow me whole, I have to get a fucking grip and bring my mate home.

Runidar, we need you. We’re in the office. I mindlink our beta, this is going to require all hands on deck.

“Alphas?” Runidar’s voice fills the tense space of our office as he pushes open the door.

“Well that was fast.” Varian notes with dry amusement.

“I was already on my way here when I got your link. We have a situation outside.”

“Is it Mags? Is she here?” Varian’s voice clings to hope but we both know we’d be able to scent her if she were in the house, we’d be able to hear her heart beating from all the way down the hall.

“Uh, no sir. Two rogues crossed into our territory from the south. The guards –”

“Good.” I cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “I could use something to kill right now.”

I push past him and stalk towards the main entrance. The three of them scurry along after me but no one tries to stop me or talk me out of killing these rogues.

Varian speaks to Runidar behind me. “Runidar we need to postpone the announcement. The pack is still welcome to dinner, but…” He chokes back his emotion; his rage, his despair. “Mags is missing.”

“I’ll handle it, Alpha.”

That’s exactly what makes Runidar an exceptional beta. He doesn’t let his heart get in the way of his head. He sees things as clearly as we do and when our minds are clouded like they are now, having a number two as dependable as him is essential.

The walk to the prison cellar gives me time to sift through how I want these rogues to die, how I want to use them to release my anger and frustration. Maybe I’ll boil their blood, maybe rip them apart limb by limb, maybe I’ll turn their insides into outsides.

These rogues picked the wrong fucking day to cross into my territory. Their deaths will be slow and excruciating, like the rage that is taking over every cell in my body. I’m not even trying to control my wolf right now, for once our objectives are very much in alignment.

We descend into the cellar, the air around us getting colder with every step.

“Where are they?” I growl at the prison guards.

“Med bay 3, Alpha.” He replies.

When we first built the cellar we envisioned a place where we could keep prisoners completely separate from the general pack population. We have five medical rooms for those needing medical attention prior to being questioned. There are padded solitary confinement rooms, regular prison cells, and then the dungeon cells. The higher the threat of a person, the harsher the holding conditions.

Varian pushes ahead into the room. He’s just as keen on inflicting pain as I am at this moment.

As I follow him into the room I notice Incandis hanging back in the hallway with Runidar.

“Incandis, join us. I think we could all let off a little steam, literally.” I slap a wide palm on his back between his shoulders.

“Excuse me,” a weak, hoarse voice croaks from one of the men. “Did you say Incandis?”

Incandis stills, the small smile he wore has dropped. His mouth hangs agape in the shape of an “O”, his heartbeat accelerates so quickly I’m sure he’ll stroke out. His eyebrows furrow together in the center clearly perplexed by the sight before him.

Varian and I wear expressions that match Incandis’ confusion. We look back and forth between the man and Incandis, trying to understand what’s shocked him.

When Incandis finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid speaking any louder would shatter reality.

“Dad?”