Jack sat across kitchen table from Blake, thoughtful eyes meeting anxious ones, a bottle of Jameson's between them. Jack had had come over to tell his Alpha what he'd learned about Carly and her sister's accident. It wasn't pretty, hence the whisky.
"She hasn't called you yet, has she? It's been a week, and she hasn't called," Jack mused when silence met the end of his story.
"Why doesn't she call? She needs me," Blake sounded almost lost.
Jack was unnerved by the wistfulness, never knowing his alpha to be so weak, especially in the face of a challenge. "So call her, then. Since when have you ever let your prey come to you? Hunt her down!"
Blake laughed, a little ruefully. "She didn't offer her number, and I didn't press the issue. I really thought she would call."
"Rookie mistake," Jack shook his head in mock sadness. "But it's not like it's difficult to find a phone number. I bet I could get it in twenty minutes, tops."
Blake sighed, "I know. But I feel like she needs to come to me and not the other way around. You know the Fates whisper in my ear. They hint at how it should be, but they never tell me why, or how to make it happen."
It was a rarely mentioned secret, the Alpha's connection to fate. It was something few knew, but it was the reason Blake, along with the others in his family, made such competent leaders. They just knew the right course of action, most of the time. It was a blessing, and a curse.
They sat there for a moment, quietly sipping at their whisky, contemplating the situation. Finally Jack sighed, halfway to hating himself for making the suggestion, but unable to keep it from Blake. His Alpha needed him, so he offered, "You're missing the obvious solution. There's one of the pack who knows exactly how to get ahold of her. Give fate a nudge."
"Emile," Blake said slowly, as he downed the rest of his glass. He watched Jack closely, not missing the tightness in his eyes or the carefully contained emotions. Emile Beauchamps, Jack's bane.
There was another long silence as Jack watched Blake come to a decision. "I think it just might be time for Emile to return to the pack. I give you leave to find a way to convince her to come home for good. Any means necessary. It's past time she accepted that life keeps moving. And have Emile convince Carly to give me a call, in that mysterious way of women." Blake met Jack's stunned gaze with an unrepentant grin. "Let the games begin, old friend."
Several years earlier, Emile had first crossed Jack's path. He knew almost at once they should have been mates, but fate cruelly changed its mind. The rage he struggled to contain at the mere mention of her name wasn't directed at the woman, but at the whole situation that had been tossed his way. Jack would be Emile's salvation, but first she must be his punishment.
Seeing her unexpectedly had a way of making his inner wolf nearly feral. All through the many years he could manage, after a fashion, only if he could mentally prepare his wolf ahead of their meeting. In his wisdom, Blake had given Emile time and space to deal with her issues, only requiring her to be on pack lands for the full moon. Blake's decision to allow her an unprecedented amount of freedom hadn't come easily or been made lightly. Commanding Jack to keep his distance was almost as difficult. He knew it would be absolute hell for Jack, but just as necessary for Emile, the Fates had shown him that much.
The man understood the reasons behind Emile's need and Blake's decision; he understood but wasn't happy about it. His wolf, as a creature of instinct rather than logic, just wanted to be with his mate. His wolf felt the rejection hard, every time. Years had taught him almost superhuman control, but even time could do little to soothe the edge of savagery that gnawed at him over the separation.
Each month, under the soft glow of the full moon, Emile would reluctantly return to the pack. Jack stalked her, his prey. He was never far from her, relentlessly trying to draw her out from her self-imposed, Alpha-sanctioned isolation and into his life. She remained cold and aloof, only rarely deigning to speak with him and always reacting violently to even the slightest touch. Months turned into years with no hint of success, Jack never faltering from his quest to make Emile a permanent part of his life no matter that it was nearly driving him insane.
"Let the games begin, indeed," Jack finally managed to say, the wolf's elation overshadowing his shock. The first move was his, and he knew just what it was going to be.
Emile Beauchamps was on edge.
For several years, her life had fallen into a rather mundane routine. She spent most of her time working long hours as a loan officer for a local bank, but still had enough time for a daily long distance run. Running was her way of dealing with life. She could run from her problems, leave them behind in sweat and pain and sheer physical exhaustion. Almost every other leftover moment she spent with Carly, her neighbor and friend. The friendship settled a deep craving to be part of a pack, a compromise she used to contain the wolf.
The only other concession to her wolf had been forced upon her by her Alpha. Once a month, she would head north to run as a wolf with her true pack. She hated those times, the reminder that she was no longer herself, but something Other. As much as she hated the monster inside, she didn't mind most of the monsters she ran with. Most of the pack left Emile to herself. They knew she had been brought unwillingly into their pack, changed into a werewolf against her will. It just wasn't the done thing. They acknowledged her with a wave, yip, or a nod of the head, before letting her be.
Most of the pack was compassionate and understanding, though not Jack. He was annoyingly persistent, driving her to the brink of insanity. Before she shifted into her wolf, he would ask questions and demand answers, blithely ignoring her condescending looks and brutally short answers. As a wolf, he was constantly rubbing against her, despite her defensive stance complete with bared teeth and warning growls. As the pack hunted deep into the night he would stay by her side, forcing her to participate when she would rather have curled up and hidden.
She hated the moments when her wolf wrested control and responded to Jack on a physical level. Her wolf was enamored by the strong, dedicated male, wanted to submit to his needs and join with him completely. Those moments were always brief, for Emile's human side was strong and persuasive, but they left her deeply unsettled for days afterwards. Even though those moments had been happening with increasing regularity, Emile was certain she would always retain the upper hand; Jack could pursue her until the end times, she would never give in to his demands. She refused to be just another of his conquests.
Jack's relentless pursuit wasn't new, so it only played a supporting role to her current troubled feelings. Emile was a roil of emotions when she thought of the game fate was now playing. Terror was the most prominent, although rage wasn't far behind. Hopelessness clawed at her, threatening to turn her catatonic.
She hadn't been able to settle down since retrieving Carly and her nephews from the airport. It was bad enough there were children involved, but she was almost prepared to deal with them. It was the unexpected scent that clung to Carly that had nearly pushed Emile over the edge. How was it possible that Carly wore the Alpha's scent? Suddenly, her hidden world was crashing headlong into her safe, public world. Emile knew that she would lose Carly to the needs of parenthood, but was completely unprepared to let her into pack life. Emile didn't think she could cope. For a week now, she had been avoiding Carly and agonizing over what to do. It seemed there was just one option that could protect her sanity. Emile knew she had to run, to defy her Alpha completely and leave the pack for good. Tomorrow was Friday, the perfect time to leave. She would have the weekend to make her escape. No one would miss her until she didn't show up for work on Monday. Deep inside her wolf mourned, but she ignored it in her panic.
Emile was up early the next morning, but even before she had a chance to finish her first cup of coffee, the doorbell was ringing. The sound filled her with sudden dread. Good news rarely showed up at quarter past six in the morning. Stopping before the door, she took a deep breath, scenting the air to determine who was there.
"fuckity fuck fuck FUCK!" she said more to herself and not to the all too familiar man on her doorstep, wishing she had thought to grab a knife before she left the kitchen.
"Just open the door and let me in. I have a message from Blake. I promise I won't stay long," Jack said, hoping that using the Alpha's name would gain him entrance into her home.
Wordlessly she tore open the door before whirling back around, stalking into the kitchen and snatching up her coffee cup.
"I'll take mine with some sugar," Jack said with a wink and a sly grin. He pulled out a chair and sat, watching Emile take an almost defensive stance against the counter, as far from Jack as possible. She wasn't up to a war of words and wits with him, so she let her silence do the speaking. Hell would have a sudden climate change before she would serve Jack coffee in her own kitchen.
She glared at him, failing to resist noticing his familiar features. The hint of a beard against his tan skin, his expressive eyes, the way his ears stuck out very slightly at a charmingly odd angle, the way his nose had been broken and healed crookedly, the slight quirk of his lips that invited you to join in some secret joke. Not for the first time, she wondered just how those lips would feel. She squelched that stray thought ruthlessly, knowing he would notice even the slightest hint of her arousal.
Jack looked at Emile just as closely, taking his time to assess her. He wanted to feel the softness of auburn curls rioting around her head, still mussed from sleep. He dreamed of tasting each freckle that dotted her creamy skin. He longed to claim her lips, to soften the hard slash of her disapproving frown, to caress every curve until she cried out in pleasure. He knew he was dangerously close to crossing the line, wanting to act upon the vivid images he was conjuring up. Unlike Emile, he did nothing to hide his arousal. This time, they would play their game on his terms. He was the one with his Alpha's blessing.
