Accepting Submission

This was a bad idea. I knew it the moment I made the turn onto pack lands. Almost instantly, two wolves appeared out of the woods and ran beside my car. I kept going, even as my heart threatened to beat right out of my chest.

It might be a bad idea, but it was my last, desperate hope. I didn’t have any other choice. Shunned by my clan, my family, kicked out of the only home I’d ever known, I was adrift. I had nowhere else to turn, and I was taking a huge chance by coming to Carver Pack lands. A bear didn’t belong among wolves.

Even if I could no longer shift.

The wolves kept pace alongside my car, and one let out a howl that split the otherwise silent night. I flinched, but my resolve did not waver. Trey Carver, alpha and leader of the pack, was only a few miles down the road. He wouldn’t be happy to see me. Not after the way my father treated him two years ago. But I was counting on the way Trey had treated me. Despite my father’s attitude, condescension, and rudeness, the alpha wolf had treated me with kindness.

And there had been something else there. Something I refused to put a name to. Worked hard to ignore in the years since. Tamped it down and pushed it from my mind so often that I all but truly forgot. Because I couldn’t allow myself to think about it. To dwell on it. I had to pretend it had never happened.

After all this time, I was very good at pretending.

The alpha house was large. Even if I hadn’t remembered where it was, I would have known it was Trey’s house simply by the size of it. Three stories tall and at least one wing extended off the left-hand side. It made sense. The wolves were a communal species. They needed each other. They needed pack. Bears weren’t made the same way. Our clan was a loose-knit community, with my father as the leader. The wolf pack thrived on a closeness I envied.

I wasn’t so naive as to think I’d be accepted into the pack, but just being near so many people who actually cared about and for one another…just being around that would be a balm to my wounded soul. At least I hoped so.

I parked in the driveway—really, it was so wide it was practically a parking lot—and slowly opened my door. One of the wolves came close, sniffing and huffing. I stood stock-still, not wanting him to interpret any move I made as a potential threat. Whatever test I was being subjected to, I must have passed, because a moment later, the wolf at my hip sat back on his haunches and let out a howl that made me jump. A few seconds after that, the front door of the house opened.

It wasn’t the alpha. The shifter who stepped into the night was tall and barrel-chested, with silver hair and a broad, welcoming grin. He leaned against the railing of the porch, crossing his arms, and the power in his shoulders alone gave me pause.

“We weren’t expecting company,” he called.

“I apologize for the intrusion.” My voice shook and I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly to calm my nerves. “I’ve come to speak with the alpha of the Carver Pack.”

The wolf nodded, never taking his gaze off me. When he tilted his head, the light from the moon momentarily changed his light eyes to gold. “What’s your name?”

“Asher. Asher Grant.”

Another nod, a moment’s more scrutiny, and then he went back into the house. For a second, I wasn’t sure if I should follow, but he hadn’t explicitly invited me, so I stayed put. Since the wolf still stood guard beside me, I figured I’d made the right choice.

I counted my breaths, trying to keep calm. Fifteen inhalations later, the front door banged open once again and my knees nearly buckled.

Trey Carver. Tall, broad-shouldered, and utterly breathtaking. The power rolled off him, and it was enough to bring me to my knees. I fought it. I was an alpha, and I wasn’t supposed to kneel for anyone.

But I wanted to. Gods, how I wanted to.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Trey’s tone was little more than a bark. I’d known he wouldn’t be happy to see me, and I wasn’t surprised by the hostility. I opened my mouth, needing to say something, anything, that would convince him to give me refuge. But my vocal cords wouldn’t work, and I stood there, paralyzed and unable to speak.

Trey jumped off the porch in one fluid, graceful move, landing hard and bending his knees slightly to absorb the impact. I gulped, my throat clicking with the motion. He was everything I wanted and, good gods, the power he exuded made my body weak.