I sent Jack and Arthur to see if Merlin could whip up scent blockers and game trails.

  Apparently, he could.

  Arthur had puffed up and announced—very loudly—that his father was The Merlin.

  How the hell was I supposed to know what that meant?

  Blaine and Carter went to wrangle the citizens who could get flashy or noisy.

  …Probably both.

  That left me with our weakest link.

  Shifters who didn’t handle stress, magic, or chaos well.

  Shit.

  That was me.

  Fuck.

  “You all right, Alpha?” Carlos asked.

  He was way too attuned to me.

  Dragoon chuckled.

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “Just debating my life choices.”

  “The pack is eager to meet you,” Carlos said with a grin.

  Interrogate was probably closer to the truth.

  Can’t wait for Dragoon to explain hoard, Chaos chuckled.

  I did not want to ask.

  Unfortunately, you’re going to hate the explanation, Dragoon sighed. Let’s get through pack basics first.

  That did absolutely nothing to make me feel better.

  Carlos led us to where the pack lived in town…

  Us.

  As in me—and the voices in my head.

  I sighed.

  What was my life now?

  The pack lived in what looked like a suburb that had lost an argument with the forest—and decided not to fight back.

  Houses still lined the road, but trees pressed in close, branches hanging low over roofs like they were listening in. Lawns had surrendered in stages: grass to weeds, weeds to clover, clover to whatever survived best under paw traffic. Sidewalks cracked where roots refused to stay underground, and nobody seemed inclined to fix them.

  There were porches. Grills. Kids’ bikes—

  and an unreasonable number of chew toys.

  Fences existed mostly as suggestions. Paths cut through the woods where streets should’ve been, worn smooth by repetition instead of asphalt. Backyards bled into forest without apology.

  It wasn’t messy.

  It was functional.

  Safe.

  Hidden.

  Alive.

  …Yeah. This was definitely pack territory.

  “Everyone is waiting for you at the pack house,” Carlos said, looking nervous.

  I could do this.

  Right?

  I used to run military meetings.

  Fuck.

  I hadn’t socialized in twenty-six years…

  And now I had to face a room full of shifters.

  A heavy, familiar sigh echoed in my head.

  What’s wrong, Vicars? Mitchell asked.

  I blinked but didn’t let Carlos see the momentary disorientation.

  How?

  Pack bond, he said. Why do I sense you spiraling?

  Arthur made me Alpha of the local pack, I scowled.

  A long silence.

  Then laughter filled my head.

  How long did the fetal position last, Carl?

  About the Carl…

  Did you seriously change your name again? he sighed.

  Jack helped me break a barrier in my brain, so Carl and John combined.

  Why did I make that a question?

  So I chose a new name. I’m Daniel Vicars now.

  A groan. Then a pause.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Well… progress? he said.

  Um… how do we have a pack bond if I’m an Alpha? I asked.

  You may be an Alpha, he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, but I’m still your Alpha. That doesn’t change.

  A beat.

  You can call me “Dad” if it helps.

  I had made some questionable life choices.

  No.

  I raked my hands through my hair as we walked.

  Carlos was watching me.

  Are Omegas supposed to pick up my emotions this much? I sighed.

  Yes, Mitchell said. They’re the heartbeat of the pack. Have you met the Beta yet, or did he go with the Alpha?

  I’ve only met Carlos.

  How are you my Alpha when I’m an Alpha?

  It’s like getting married, Mitchell said. Your parents and family are still yours—but you move in with your partner and start the cycle over.

  So, I said slowly, horrible family Christmases?

  Mitchell snorted.

  Then the “pack house” came into sight.

  The pack house sat where three backyards should’ve been.

  Someone had taken what used to be a large suburban home and let it grow—outward and upward—until it felt less like a house and more like a lodge that had decided it liked plumbing and insulation. Stone and dark wood wrapped the lower levels, solid enough to take a hit. Wide windows faced the trees instead of the road, light spilling out into the forest like an invitation rather than a warning.

  It was big.

  Mansion big.

  But it didn’t feel rich.

  It felt occupied.

  A covered porch wrapped halfway around the structure, deep enough for people to sit shoulder to shoulder, boots kicked off, mugs abandoned on railings worn smooth by years of hands. Antlers and carved beams framed the entry—not trophies, I realized, but markers. History. Respect.

  Inside, I could see movement through the windows. Too much movement for a single family.

  Pack movement.

  People crossing paths without stopping, shifting directions instinctively, sharing space without apology.

  The roofline was steep and practical, meant for snow and storms, not aesthetics. Balconies overlooked the common areas instead of the street, giving sightlines inward rather than out.

  Security through familiarity.

  Control without fences.

  The forest pressed close, branches brushing the upper levels like it belonged there.

  Maybe it did.

  I exhaled slowly.

  Yeah. This wasn’t a house.

  This was a den that learned how to be human.

  “I’m not ready for this.” I stopped before we got too close.

  Carlos stopped with me.

  You need to keep walking and act like a commander entering this space, Mitchell sighed.

  “How do you—” I began.

  Pack bond.

  Gentle reassurance flooded me.

  Great.

  Emotional support.

  “Carlos.” I drew a deep breath and forced my lieutenant persona back into place. “Do we have a Beta?”

  “Um…” Carlos hunched his shoulders. “He might still be locked up in the basement.”

  I turned to stare at him. “Does that mean he’s alive?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Carlos nodded quickly. “I snuck down to take care of him. He was nice to me.”

  I chewed my lip.

  Mitchell…

  Yeah…

  The Beta is locked in the basement.

  I strode forward, jaw clenched.

  What kind of mess am I walking into?

  A big one. Good luck.

  He sighed—and was gone.

  Well.

  I marched toward the door, then paused to draw a deep breath.

  No more waiting.

  This wasn’t something I could delegate.

  It was something I had to do.

  I pushed the door open, and the noise of too many people talking spilled out at once.

  Along with the scents.

  …They weren’t all wolf.

  Great.

  I needed a manual on packs or something.

  Just own the room, Chaos said.

  That I could do.

  Except the room was already falling silent—people staring at me like I’d just walked into the wrong movie.

  I never handled that well.

  Women edged away.

  Men squared up.

  Kids shrank back.

  Ever try to keep a disapproving scowl off your face when you’re just overwhelmed?

  Fuck it.

  I did the one thing that always put my family at ease.

  Jack probably didn’t even realize it was grounding.

  I headed for the kitchen.

  “What is Alpha doing, Mommy?” a child whispered.

  The whole room—including the kitchen—was one wide, open space, and I wasn’t hiding what I was doing as I opened cabinets.

  “I don’t know, sweetie,” her mother murmured back.

  I pulled out sugar. Flour. The things I needed for chocolate chip cookies.

  Rogue shifters might be attacking the town, but our defenses were already in place. I’d told the others how to handle that part.

  This part was mine.

  My pack needed to see I wasn’t their old Alpha.

  That I wasn’t going to rule through fear or volume.

  Even as Carl, there had always been something about baking—about making something steady when everything else felt sharp.

  So I kept going.

  “Alpha?” Carlos stepped toward me as everyone watched.

  “Yeah, Carlos?” I said. I was grating butter—still fridge-cold—into the mixer I’d dragged to the island so they could see exactly what I was doing.

  Why was talking to the Omega making them stare?

  Fuck it.

  “What are you doing?” Carlos asked, glancing around like he wasn’t sure this was allowed.

  “Making chocolate chip cookies.” I needed chocolate right now.

  “Alphas don’t bake,” some guy said.

  “Yeah,” I shrugged, dumping in the sugar and starting the mixer, “that changes when your wife dies and you physically can’t leave the property.”

  Silence.

  “No one else there changes diapers either.”

  The men were staring at me.

  I looked up and met their eyes.

  “Every person does every job in the Army,” I said, watching the batter cream. “Men, women—if shit didn’t get done, people died.”

  The stares followed me as I mixed the dry ingredients in a second bowl.

  Dragoon…

  I swallowed hard as my chest tightened. Can we let them see who—what—I’ve been through?

  The answer came without hesitation.

  Yes.

  Warm reassurance settled through me, steady and familiar. Not permission—confirmation.

  That I didn’t have to hide.

  That surviving was nothing to be ashamed of.

  I exhaled slowly and kept mixing.

  He opened the door in my mind to the pack, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

  I added the eggs one at a time to the creamed mixture.

  My hands shook as I worked, carefully keeping shells out of the batter.

  They began to look—tentatively—into my head.

  Too much.

  I had to stop and grip the counter.

  A woman stepped in beside me and gently shifted me out of the way.

  “I’ve got you,” she said quietly.

  I gave her a strained smile.

  Enough, a new voice cut in. Leave him alone.

  The pressure vanished as they withdrew.

  I looked up to see Carlos grinning. “Xavier,” he said. “Our Beta.”

  Right.

  The Beta who’d been locked in the basement.

  “Can we please let him out?” I asked. I couldn’t summon a demand right then.

  One of the men moved immediately, heading for the stairs as murmurs rippled through the room.

  Firm counter.

  Deep breaths.

  Of course Carlos shifted and came over to press against my leg.

  I wasn’t curled up on the floor.

  Progress.

  You might need it, Chaos said.

  Him warning me was never good.

  What do you mean by that?

  I didn’t really want to know.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs—two sets—accompanied by low voices.

  Everyone’s attention shifted from me to the door.

  What the hell?

  Then the scents hit.

  One wolf.

  One reptilian.

  Dragon.

  Shadow, Dragoon straightened with interest.

  Not Alpha.

  Well.

  Time to disappoint someone.

  Dragoon hissed.

  Hush. I kept my gaze on the floor. Right now I can’t even use magic. Some Vessel. Some Guardian.

  We are here when you are ready, Chaos said.

  I studied the floor.

  The floor was really clean.

  “So,” a deep voice said, “this is the new… Alpha?”

  Silence.

  Yay.

  “Yeah.” Fuck. I was a lieutenant, for Pete’s sake. “Daniel Vicars.”

  The words were out.

  Worst. Alpha. Ever.

  “Xavier Prince,” the man said. “Beta.”

  I froze on the last name.