SLOAN
Full circle. Thatâs how Sloan had started referring to his life.
It had been a couple of days since the end of the roguesâ murderous rampage. Heâd surprised himself by attending the status report meetings in the councilâs inner chambers.
What was most shocking was the transfer of power within the council ranks and his position within the system, since he was the first lycan to appear in centuries.
Previously, Sloan was just an alpha participating in various meetings. Now he was the head alpha of the otherworldly community.
Almost king-like.
It was a position he reluctantly accepted and was still uncomfortable in, though the elders were in talks about bringing back the lycan king rule.
This new status meant that he would officially oversee all the communitiesâ comings and goings, act as a diplomat for international events, and mitigate relations with the human world.
He was hesitant, because his position within the Blood Moon Pack and his company would have to change.
However, it wasnât the formal transfer of powers that had him hesitant, nor the stress of naming his successors in both departments.
He hesitated to accept the position because his angel was laid up in the hospital, and he could have used her advice about the matter.
He leaned back in the comfortable leather chair and crossed his leg onto his knee. The elders insisted that he sit at the head of the chamber to start familiarizing himself with the position.
He was half-listening to another team leader provide a status report on their siege of the water treatment plant.
In the background, multiple projected screens displayed news coverage of the massive inferno that engulfed the abandoned structure. The fire had been burning for two days, which confused humans and baffled experts.
The truth was that various Wiccans were strategically keeping it burning to destroy all evidence of their activities.
Two days? It felt like a lifetime ago.
It was physically painful for him to leave Myraâs bedside, where he kept a ritualistic vigil waiting for her to wake up.
She was resting comfortably in the packâs clinic. Both girls had been brought home from the High Priestessâs coven hospital the day before.
Their surgeries had been resounding successes, though theyâd both needed blood transfusions due to their excessive blood loss. Dr. Norah suggested testing mates first to see if there was a match.
This act further confirmed Tristanâs mated relationship with Leanne, since he and Sloan were both matches for their females.
Unfortunately, the injections the rogues had given the girls were still affecting their animal spirits, so recovery was slow.
Moreover, Skye hadnât made an appearance since killing Elizabeth and passing out.
Initially, Alpha had retreated like Skye, but Sloan felt the tired beast stirring in the background, though he remained uncharacteristically silent. His stirring behavior gave Sloan hope.
Dr. Norah was keeping an extra eye on their pup. At first, she was worried that a baby wouldnât have survived the numerous days of trauma.
But once they transferred Myra to the coven hospital, Dr. Norah used a high-definition ultrasound on Myra to produce the sweetest sound Sloan had ever heard, aside from Myraâs laughs and cries of pleasure.
It was the steady and strong fetal heartbeat of his pup.
The moment was bittersweet, because Myra was still unconscious and couldnât enjoy the moment with him, and theyâd quickly rushed her into surgery. Not wanting to experience too much without her, he declined to have any printouts.
The next time, he wanted Myra to be alert and awake. He wanted them to gaze together upon the life that was growing inside her.
Elder Reagan cleared his throat, gaining their attention. âNext up is Steven Amos from the Blood Moon Pack.â
The shifter took a deep breath and walked up to the podium. He shuffled his papers and cleared his throat. The years of knowing Steven told Sloan that he was nervous.
Speaking and reporting was okay to Sloan, but Steven had a fear of public speaking that seemed out of place on the massive mountain of a man that he was.
âGood evening,â Steven started. âI was team leader for the Western Cavalry. It consisted of thirty shifters from various packs and seventeen Wiccans.â
He provided the council with initial accounts, placements, who dispatched which rogue when, and the total number during the siege.
âNo rogue offered to surrender to our group. Some of the creatures who were killed by my team were identified by either myself or other members of my group.
âMax Keegan, Margaret Ryan-Bell, Julia Bell, who was Margaretâs sister-in-law, Joshua Grant, David Leeâ¦â
~âSon of a bitch. How many does that make from our pack?â~ Sloan linked with Declan.
His beta was making a record of the families that were now considered threats due to their relativesâ association with the rogues.
~âIncluding the Marshalls and the Daytons, the count stands at seven families. However, all records on Elizabethâs family seem to have gone missing.~
~âIt could be a clerical error, but we donât know for sure,â~ Declan continued. ~âAny link to internal pack activities has been suspended for all parties until we can conduct a thorough check.â~
The betrayal had been difficult for all involved. Some families were lifelong friends of his father, whoâd helped run the pack and turned it into the success it was today.
Thankfully, most of them understood the precautions, wanted their luna to make a full recovery, and distanced themselves from their traitorous family members.
He looked about the room as everyone listened attentively to Stevenâs words, but Sloanâs mind and heart werenât present.
He missed his tiny minx of an angel, yet he took comfort in knowing that she was surrounded by family back at the clinic.
Just then, his phone vibrated. Looking down at the screen, he saw that Bryn had sent him another message. He hit the icon, and a picture from earlier came up first.
It was an image of both Megan and Myrielle braiding Myraâs hair into two big braids. In the crook of her arm, Brielle was curled into her aunt, sleeping soundly.
It was easy to picture Myra with their pup. He swiped across to the new picture that Bryn had sent, and his smile got bigger.
Myraâs eyes were half-open, and his mother was hugging her head, kissing the top of it.
~âMyraâs awake,â~ he linked with Elder Reagan, though he was still gazing lovingly down at the picture.
The longer he looked at it, the more he saw, especially his motherâs happiness, the tears rolling down her cheek. Myra, however, looked exhausted, which was expected.
~âHow much longer, Steven?â~
The man paused and reached for his glass of water. ~âAbout three more pages.â~
~âOkay,â~ Sloan answered, and Steven continued delivering his report, but Sloan wasnât paying attention to him. ~âReagan, no more reports after Steven. We can continue this tomorrow.â~
~ âAs you wish, Alpha,â~ It was strange being the one in authority now. Once heâd had time to discuss it with Myra, heâd get accustomed to it.
***
Sloan pulled his car up the pack house driveway, but instead of stopping near the main entrance, he continued toward the clinic wing.
The car had barely stopped and the engine switched off when he hopped out clutching an extra-large bouquet of red, yellow, and white roses.
His departure from the chambers took longer than expected. He was held back because of well-wishes and invitations for him to join various communities for luncheons or dinners.
Different leaders were excited to welcome the lycanthrope to their packs, clans, and covens.
Then heâd stopped off at the nearest florist and picked up some flowers to help brighten Myraâs spirits and room.
Walking through the hallway, he was greeted with polite smiles and heads bowing in respect. Heâd spent years trying to get his members to treat him like a normal shifter, but that had gone to hell.
The rumors of him being a lycanâand the alpha king at thatâhad changed everyoneâs perception of him.
He got to Myraâs VIP room and gently pushed open the door. It seemed like he wasnât the only one wanting to brighten up her room. One corner was bursting with bouquets, balloons, and teddy bears.
His angel was loved by many. Her sweet aura would continue to win the hearts of everyone within their community.
The roomâs lights were dim, and he could see her curled up in the clinic bed. She was resting on her side, quietly snoozing. It seemed Dr. Norah had shooed away her previous visitors from earlier.
He smiled, thanking God that she was finally home. He placed the flowers on the side table and gently kissed her forehead. Myra sighed deeply, and her eyes fluttered open.
A precious smile curved her lips before a frown formed on her brow. She weakly reached up and touched his face, specifically running a finger over the scar on his face.
âWho did this?â she whispered, wincing as she moved a bit to better grip his face. âWhat happened to your face?â
Sloan softly chuckled and closed his eyes as he rubbed his cheek into the palm of her hand.
âRichie.â He sighed, enjoying the feeling of her touch.
âWhy would he?â she tried asking, but Sloan couldnât control himself. It had been days, and he just needed to kiss her. He meant for it to be brief, but the moment their lips connected, it felt like home.
He didnât feel bad for cutting her off. Reclaiming her lips and drinking in her signature taste was like being a man whoâd wandered the desert for days, then suddenly found fresh water for the first time.
Their tongues dueled and mated like two halves of a single lost soul finding each other in a dark abyss. He felt her fingers wrapped into his hair, pulling at the strands tightly as she tried to tug him down onto her.
She moaned her contentment into his mouth, and he groaned at the familiar sound.
~âWe can die in peace,â~ Sloan heard Alpha growl in the back of his mind, for the first time in days.
However, it was the scent of Myraâs arousal that caused him to break the kiss. He pulled away to gaze into her glowing honey-colored eyes. âI missed you so damn much.â
âI missed you too,â she muttered, trying to kiss him again, and he chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose. All was finally right in his world.
âTeasing minx.â