Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 30: Chapter 30

“Leo, are you paying attention?” George tried to get his attention as Leo sipped his coffee.
It was just the way he liked it, stronger than his father’s second—a big, badass brawler who was Beta of the Blue Valley Pride—and hot as his soon to be mate. Fuck. He couldn't go two minutes without thinking of her. That feisty female had blown him off again last night.
He felt as though he’d made some headway with her, which was always good in his book. Slow and steady. That was Leo’s new motto. His campaign to win over the beautiful redhead involved spending most evenings at the bar she and her Pack mates owned, admiring from afar, and engaging whenever she was near.
Serious Moonlight had drawn plenty of attention from locals and out of towners, Shifters, and humans alike. Imagine, an honest to fuck roadhouse in South Jersey. It was a risky idea, but so far, so good.
Leo saw the appeal. The place offered unique amusements, such as local entertainment, which was mostly live music, excellent fare, and craft alcohol and beer from local microbreweries. And of course, there was the view. Every single one of the Pack was an eleven in their own right. Straight or not, Leo recognized good looks, and the Dire Wolf MC had it in spades.
Of course, Leo was only interested in one of them. Still, it didn’t hurt their bottom line any that the owners and operators of Serious Moonlight were all perfect physical specimens. All of them were fit, attractive, and their MC status gave them an air of mystery and intrigue many found irresistible.
Leo appreciated a nice motorcycle, even if he was more into his Vette. Whenever he saw Sheila atop her Softail, his pants grew uncomfortably tight. The little Wolf was a total boner inducer. He wanted her so damn badly. More with each growing day, and not just cause of her perfect ass, and sumptuous tits.
He wanted to know all about her. Found himself wondering what she liked and didn’t like. Hell, he even drove to the city to research rare breeds in the library at the Shifter Council of NYC for information on Dire Wolves. He only found the basics, but he would take what he could get. Beggars and choosers, and all that.
They were very elusive creatures—large, prehistoric species of Wolf, extinct in the wild, but still around in their Shifter cousins. He counted himself twice lucky that he would be fated to have one as a mate. Not that he’d care if Sheila was a Wolf, Wildebeest, or Walrus. He just wanted her.
“Leo, I said the elders want an answer to their requests. Otherwise, they’re calling for an open challenge to the leadership of the Pride.”
“George, I’ll tell you what I told them at the circle the other night. Back the fuck off. I need time.”
Leo’s mind went back to the elder’s circle he’d walked into a few nights ago. The Lionesses had gathered, as they were permitted to, under the King’s laws, and had presented him with some otherwise unknown quandaries. It seemed Leo’s father was no longer seeing audiences nor was he answering his correspondence.
Leo had asked for time to investigate, and he left right away to talk to the old man only to be turned away at the door. He’d had to leave a message with Montgomery, his father’s valet, and still had yet to hear from him. The King was absent, and that was not a good look for the Pride. But even worse, Leo was worried about his father. Absentee dad or not, Donovan Crowley deserved his loyalty, and Leo was determined to give it.
Fuck.
“You know the laws, Leo,” George said.
“Of course, I fucking do. I’m a cop, George. I study laws. I enforce them,” he growled, turning on his heel and pacing. Fuck. He was agitated.
“You are still single. If you don’t choose a mate, your claim to the throne will be questioned. Look, the elders are willing to give you first choice at the crown, but they want you to meet with the unmated females this week,” his cousin told him.
“I know what they said, George. I was there.”
How old was his cousin, anyway? Twenty-one, twenty-two? Whatever. Leo was not about to spill the entire story of why he was still unmated. It was neither his, nor the circle’s business. He needed to talk to his father. To clear up this whole disastrous matter. The sooner, the better.
“I have a mate. I won’t meet with the pride females. My mate is just not ready to accept me yet,” he admitted, grimacing at the sting those words caused. “She requires patience, and I will give it to her.”
“What? You have to meet with them, Leo! It’s the only way to stall them till Uncle D snaps out of whatever funk he’s in. It’s not like it’s cheating. You have no claiming mark, Leo,” he pointed out, unhelpfully.
Would anyone really miss him if we snapped his neck and tossed him in the woods?
The Lion’s question was a good one, but the answer was an unfortunate yes. Leo would have to watch the ambitious younger male. Good thing his Aunt Patricia, who was also George’s mother, and all his female cousins, the real movers, and shakers behind Eat Well Live Proud, the hunters of the Blue Valley Pride and so on and so forth, had his back in so far as assuming his rightful role as his father’s only son and heir.
“I will get to it in due time,” Leo replied.
He left the younger Lion sitting in his car and sped away down the highway. Traveling just under the speed limit, of course. The sight of George’s face still sputtering inside his vehicle grew smaller in his rearview mirror as Leo drove away.
Twenty-minutes later, he found himself outside of Serious Moonlight. Again.
Fucking pathetic.
Just grab the female, hoist her over your shoulder, take her home, and bite her, for fuck’s sake. She will thank us later.
No. She really wouldn’t, and Leo had to count to three just to keep the gold from showing in his eyes. He was only going to grab some food. Just a bite, he told himself.
Brock Laurent, the Beta of the Dire Wolf Pack, was an outstanding chef. His dishes constantly surprised Leo. But the truth was, he would have kept coming back, even if they only served peanuts. Maybe he really was pathetic.
Grrrr.
Leo was standing beside his Vette, chest rumbling way too loudly. A couple of humans passing told him he left his engine on, to which he nodded and pretended to shut the car off. Fuck. He needed to control himself. He should not be this riled over one tiny, albeit feisty, redheaded woman.
Sheila.
Her name began as a whisper inside his mind. The animal within him stood up, waiting to catch a glimpse. His hunter’s instinct ever ready, ever waiting. The whisper built up in speed and momentum. Louder and faster until his beast roared the two-syllable moniker inside his mind’s eye.
Sheila.
SHEILA.
SHEILAAA!
Rrrroooaaaar!
Control, he needed control. But it was difficult, and he was getting antsy. The animal had waited, albeit impatiently, for Leo to stake his claim. Lion didn’t understand what was taking so long. In the wild, a dominant male pursued the female until he claimed her. Fast, simple, boom. But Leo was playing a different sort of game.
Truth was, he wasn’t playing at all with his intended mate. Sheila was more than just a roll in the hay, er, grass, or whatever the fucking metaphor was. It didn’t matter. She was no casual fling. She was everything.
Leo would pounce when he was good and ready and not a moment before. Even now, his beast demanded he give chase. He pressed his human side, demanding he actively pursue his claim of the sexy she-Wolf. She was his fated mate. It was destiny, after all.
She might not be ready for what Leo really wanted, but the she-Wolf could handle lunch. Hell, she could handle anything. His mouth salivated at the thought of grilled wild-caught King salmon with a side of spicy candied bacon cooked Brussel sprouts.
Grrrrr.
His stomach growled. Or was that his Lion? Whatever. The meal was Leo’s favorite. Brock was a fucking magician in the kitchen. He did wonderful things to fish, meat, even vegetables. Any person—human, Shifter, or whatever—could and did readily appreciate the man’s efforts.
Brock was a culinary genius. He made the best grilled steaks, monster-sized burgers, ribs, and chops to die for. But his salmon. Fucking. Perfection. The man’s salmon was better than beef, or even chocolate, as far as Leo was concerned. And that was saying something.
Serious Moonlight’s menu was small, but perfectly executed. Quality over quantity. And because he was a proud member of the Blue Valley Pride, Leo had met with Brock, and he’d gotten the ornery Pack Beta to sign with Eat Well Live Proud. They were taking on smaller accounts now. And why shouldn’t they? Plenty of caterers, restauranteurs, and people in the food industry were clamoring for better products.
EWLP could deliver what they wanted. They boasted the finest quality meat, poultry, and fish available. Fresh from the range, ranch, or sea, directly to the table. The fish import business was just one of the Pride’s latest endeavors on top of the meats they already dealt in.
Leo’s cousin, Ariella Golden, was in charge of new client acquisitions. The Wild Fish division was currently on the hunt for some, and Leo was hoping she could drop by to catch Brock’s ear. EWLP was the Pride’s top enterprise, and Ariella was a very savvy Lioness.
Even if George was her brother.
George had obviously been shorted in the whole genes department. Maybe his Aunt Patricia had been stepping out on her mate, or something. He thanked his lucky stars there were no shared genetics there. The Goldens were not blood related, though he called them cousins.
His Aunt Patricia was no relative of either of his parents. She was his late mother’s best friend from childhood, and their families were very close. He supposed he was lucky. To be fair, George really didn’t have a shot at standing out.
He had four older sisters, and each one of them was phenomenal at something. Poor George was just average. Leo supposed he had time. A little bit of it, anyway. After all, Aunt Patricia had only forbidden her daughters to mail George to Saskatchewan when he was a cub. He was a man now, and he thought he saw Ariella checking the rates of international shipping for live animals the other day. No, it was not business related.
Leo smiled. Memories of life with the Pride had been coming back to him in bits and pieces. More so over the last week. Ever since he’d been forced to think about his father and visit with the elder circle. He had to admit, he missed some of his Lioness cousins’ shenanigans. Pride life was never dull, he’d give them that.
Of course, he stayed in touch as much as his job allowed. He was still, technically, the Prince of the Blue Valley Pride. He also sat on the board for Eat Well Live Proud, holding the most shares of any Pride member, just under his father. Duty and responsibility were a key part of his makeup. Before he exited his car, Leo pushed all thoughts of Blue Valley Pride to the back of his mind. Sure, the elders had given him an ultimatum.
“Leo Crowley, you will either announce your mate by the week’s end or this council will seize rule of the Pride as your father is unfit and until we can find a formal challenger for the title,” Ruth Cunningham had stepped forward and made the announcement on behalf of the circle.
It was all he could do not to Shift and go after those haughty females after she’d made that pronouncement. How dare they! The elders had gone too far this time. He’d told them to back off, let him try to fix this. They reluctantly agreed to give him a week, and he intended to use every second of the time he’d won to try to sort it all out. So far, things were not looking well.
First, he still hadn’t reached his father. Second, he already had a mate and the idea of looking at the Pride females parading through the palace was downright distasteful on several levels. Not to mention it was horribly offensive and sexist. Third, good manners aside, those old biddies needed to be taken down a notch or three.