The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Sinclair

I storm down the hallway on my way to the meeting, but I’m gratified to see Roger waiting there for me at the door, leaning against the wall. I nod to him, not breaking my stride, but he falls in with me as we head inside.

“So, what’d you bring?” Roger asks, his voice serious.

“What?” I ask, half turning to him in my confusion.

“To kill the prince,” Roger says, his face deadpan. “Like a gun, or something more dramatic like a morning star? Or are you just going to like, tear him limb from limb -”

“Roger,” I sigh, shaking my head as I arrive at the head of the table but his face just breaks out into a grin.

“What is it?” our father asks, looking between us. I know that he can tell from my serious face that something’s up, and from Roger’s joking one that it’s well enough under control that we don’t need to take major action now.

“Don’t worry about it, dad,” І murmur, not wanting to get into it with the Atalaxian delegation already filtering into the room.

“Prince Calvin asked Ella on a date,” Roger says, leaning close so that dad can hear but speaking loud enough that I know what he said. I sigh deeply, grabbing a packet of papers off the desk and flipping idly through them, making a mental note to beat the crap out of my brother at the earliest opportunity.

“What?” dad says, looking at me with wide eyes.

“It’s not like that,” I growl, glaring at Roger. “Can we just drop it for now? We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

Dad glares at Roger too, taking my side as the majority of the persons attending this meeting begin to take their seats. Roger laughs a little but comes around to my other side, sinking into the chair on my right while my father takes his place on my left. King Gabriel is here as an advisor on our side, ready to argue staunchly against war, as well as six other pack members from our territories. My eyes scan the room, noting the presence of nine Atalaxian delegates with one empty chair.

door, the final delegate appears: Prince Calvin, slipping into the room and heading for his chair without even

unable to help it,

doesn’t raise his

– I want him to know that I know what the

coward, because

conversation from both sides. The conversation is long, and drawn out, and largely unproductive. The Atalaxians are well prepared and clearly seeking war. I sigh inwardly as I start to realize that my suspicions were correct: that they came here wanting war, that they likely hoped

with deep pockets and excellent military powers. Moon Valley is smaller, and while we have better technology, better strategic location, and a fantastic set of national resources, we’ve also recently been

it, Damon, I think to myself, scowling inwardly.

a kill. While they’re pretending that they want this war because we’ve moved against them,

but it would be an ideological coup as well. A lot of powerful men in that nation have some truly awful ideas about gender and

as I think about it, the warrior in me wanting to go to war, to wipe the Atalaxians

knows that this nation has no where near the resources, currently, to take

war will stretch on for years – that, damn it, Rafe might be grown by the time it comes

as long as

subtle move – he doesn’t touch me, or give any indication that he knows what I’m thinking. But still I can tell. He knows that I’m upset, and in his own way he’s trying to be there for me, however he can, without letting the Atalaxians see how much they’re

a deep breath,

tell me everything he and Cora saw at the moonlight baptism we asked him not to but

son died young on a battlefield, Roger would have seen it.

through me at the thought and I send a prayer up to the Goddess, thanking her both for my brother and her insight, begging her again to keep my

end, this is all about him, isn’t it? About the world in which he’ll grow to be a man, about the Kingdom

find looking right at me for the first time. Because he