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.
