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Chapter One
     
    “I don’t care how good a fuck she is, Veyr. The council will not stand by and allow you to mate a near-human.”
    Veyr, Master of the City and the most powerful werewolf in the room, looked up to regard the men sat around the table in front of him. Alphas from the twelve packs surrounded him, the leaders of their communities. All but one looked back, the bright rings of amber in their eyes proclaiming their status as pure-blood werewolves. Unlike Veyr. Not from the ranks of lycan nobility, he’d attained his position through blood, sweat and being the meanest son of a bitch out. Not born to power, or into an exalted position within any of the packs, he was the son of an attack victim, the born-wolf child of a bitten mother; the lowest in lycan society.
    Not content with such a low rank, he’d made his name and fortune in the fight clubs, rising to own them. He’d been King of the Ring before a rare challenge had given him a shot at the title of Master of the City. A fact that a few of the wolves around the table appeared to have forgotten, as most nodded to agree with Jacob McCauley.
    “Really?” Veyr drawled, resting his chin on his knuckles. His voice was low and dangerous, a clue that had the guards at the door straightening. They were his men, hand-picked by his captain, a wolf from the pits just like Veyr.
    He didn’t take his eyes off Jacob. The man was arrogant and convinced of his superiority. Six months into his role as alpha, he was already throwing his weight about. A fact that annoyed the hell out of Veyr.
    “So, you’re telling me you have decided to tell the Master of the City what he can and cannot do?” Veyr stood, exploding into movement that made Jacob scuttle back, surprise written over his face. Veyr’s voice was still quiet as he resisted the urge to let his claws do the talking, but he didn’t restrict the amber in his eyes to just a ring. Wolfing them out to the max, he let his anger roll from him in waves.
    “Because,” he snarled and slammed his fists into the tabletop. The solid wood cracked under the blow, the sound like a gunshot in the room. “If you want to give the orders, then you can always issue a challenge.”
    Jacob paled. Not as white as a sheet, nothing so poetic. Instead, he turned the white of a man who has just seen the future. One that ended with his intestines around his feet as he tried to scream through a shredded throat.
    “No, no. I apologize, Master,” he was quick to assure. “I forget my place. It won’t happen again.” He ducked his head in apology but not before Veyr had seen the flash of anger in his eyes. Given that and the somewhat unsavory rumors Veyr had heard about the man, he knew Jacob was a problem he would have to deal with sooner rather than later. With violence. Veyr was good with violence when the situation warranted it. It was the reason he was the only fighter to retire from the ring undefeated.
    “I didn’t think so. Anyone else?” Veyr looked around the room, his expression hard. With their ringleader cut down to size, none of the others held his gaze for long. A few seconds at most. He reached the last man at the table, and the silence stretched out as Veyr waited for him to look up.
    Nick Trevais lifted his head to meet Veyr’s eyes. He smiled; his expression strained. It was ever likely to be. The woman under discussion was his sister.
    “McCauley is right,” he said in a quiet voice. Unlike his spitfire of a sister, Trevais had always been the voice of reason on the council. He continued to be so, regardless of his personal stake in the matter. “As Master of the City, you cannot take a non-shifter as your mate. Concubine, yes. Mate, no.”
    His words fell into the silence of the room. Around the table, the other alphas nodded their agreement. Veyr hid his smile when Jacob’s eyes lit with triumph. It was no secret to anyone with half a brain that he wanted to mate his sister to the Master of the City. As