New update is here! Hope the long chapter makes up for the wait. 

Next update will be far quicker.

Myles opted to drive. His, his aunts and his parents homes were the only ones on the three kilometre patch of land, edged out by the untamed forest. To walk between them took no more than fifteen minutes, shorter if he shifted to make the journey. With the heavy snow fall of last night, the decision hadn't been a hard one to make.

He'd passed by several sentries on the drive and he knew far more were present unseen. Numbers had been amped up overnight in the announcement of this meeting.

As he turned onto the buried gravelled driveway, the home he'd grown up greeted him. Two levels, it was long, the exterior timber as washed-up as it had been when it was built decades before. The stories were split, the top where his parents resided, with several balconies, while the lower level was where the pack convened and a porch wrapped around the length of the house house. The trims of the windows had recently been painted charcoal, as had the front door.

All part of his mother's re-decorating. It was what she did when something was bothering her—and presently that was Mira. His father had called him once already to complain. Which had led to his mother taking the phone and firing questions about potential colour schemes to Myles that he couldn't answer. Wanting no part in the argument, he'd quickly hung up, leaving them to finish it on their own. These days, it was as close to a real domestic as his parents ever got to. Per usual, by the end of it, his mother got her way. Whether or not she'd gotten to downstairs yet was the thing.

Leandro, leaning against the porch railing, one leg crossed over the other as he smoked a cigaret was a surprise. He watched with a raised eyebrow as Myles tucked his car under the car port, left of his parents vehicles were parked, having recognised the licence plate on sight.

Myles abhorrent stance on pack initiations was no secret. He made an appearance when he had to. Middle, beginning and end of the story, without exception. Until Mira. Until he had personal stakes in the outcome.

Leaving the ignition running, he turned to Mira, who was staring at the window silently. She had her legs curled on the seat, plucking at the chords of the green bracelet on her wrist. A bracelet he'd given her—through the guise of his aunt. Her profile was shielded by her hair, curled over the shoulder of the white sweater she wore. He knew the expression on her face would be closed off, trying to disguise her nerves despite the fact that it smothered her scent and his car.

"I'll get out, check in with Leandro. Wait here with the heater."

Her head turned an inch. "Who is he?"

"My fathers second."

"Second..." A pause. "A second Alpha?"

"Second to the Alpha," he corrected.

Officially, anyway. Unofficially, he was much more. Enforcer. Solider. Confidant. Friend. Baby sitter —although that was going back two decades now. He was as much Myles' uncle as Kiva was his aunt. Had been so, in fact, before he even knew he had an aunt.

"Is he be part of the council?"

"No. Well not the offical one, anyway. He's harmless—"

She cut him off with a strangled noise. "Are we looking at the same person?"

At six-foot-six, Leandro towered over them both. He was rugged, having adapted to life in the mountains. His beard was down to his waist, plaited where he usually left it loose. He was bald, a scar running the length of his life cheek, and his nose was crooked from being broken too many times. Over a white tee, he wore a thick flannel paired with worn-out jeans and boots. To Myles he was harmless.

To Mira, not so much. And convincing her she was wrong would be impossible at this point. Somewhere down the line, she'd come to realise it herself.

"He won't harm you," said Myles.

To that, there was no response. He wasn't surprised in the slightest.

"I'll be quick."

He gave her a second to speak up. When she didn't, he got out of the car. Deep snow blanketed the ground, feet and tyre tracks imprints. The trees bracketing the property line were white, dropping leaves like they'd turned to crystals. More was dripping from the slanted roof. Soon the wind would pick up, evening out the coverage. Myles certainly didn't envy whoever would have to shovel it out later to dig out his fathers tyres; he knew first hand how long it took.

Myles cast a worried glance back at his car. Having grown up in these mountains, he was well adapted to life here, just as Leandro was. Winters no longer bothered him. Thick jeans and a jacket got him by just fine. Mira wasn't adjusted to severe cold snaps and snowfall. Given she'd already had hypothermia once, a repeat wasn't on the cards. His aunt had all but been throwing extra layers at Mira as she left with Myles: a scarf, a pair of gloves, another jacket and pair of socks. All on top of the multi-layers she already wore.

Leo lifted a hand in greeting, cigarette hanging between two fingers. His expression was grave, mouth tight.

"I thought you quit," Myles said.

"Old habits."

There was more to it than that. Myles wasn't fooled by the aloof words in the slightest. "Problems?"

"When is there not." Leandro raised an eyebrow. "Assuming you don't mean my mated life, then the next issue is your mated life."

That's exactly what he'd been afraid to hear. "Is she in danger?"

A loose shrug. Not a casual gesture at all. "Yes. No. As much as any of us are running in the same circle as your father."

Myles read between the lines, confirming what he'd already guessed: someone on the council didn't approve of how this had been handled. Corners had been cut; that couldn't be covered up. As far as the council was concerned, the first ritual happened in accordance of the law. His father met him at his aunts. Whoever their information leak was—a sentinel who's anonymity was numbered—had seen that. The problem was what happened after. After the Alpha's approval, the Council's followed. Allowances weren't made for any reason. That in Mira's case allowances had been made was breaking century old tradition.

"There will be votes against the decision."

"Hardly the first time. Or the last." A pause. This one with weight. "Which is why you've planned ahead."

Of course, he did. Mira was his mate. He'd protect her at all costs. Exploit every loophole. Take on anyone. The ramifications of choices she didn't understand, wouldn't fall on her. "I learned from the best."

Stubbing his cigarette on the heel of his boot, Leandro said, "Whatever happens, don't panic, Myles. Your father has a back-up plan to your back-up plan. There's a reason he's Alpha." A heavy hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing. "Your mate will need someone at the other end of this; prioritise that."

*

The front hall was empty when they stepped through the door, Leandro a ways ahead of them, likely having gone to talk to his father. The sound of voices to the left a minute late confirmed that. Dubbed the business wing, it was where his father held meetings and he had his public office. Spare rooms and bathroom were down the hall as well. Ahead, tucked away behind the wall, was the wide staircase, leading up to his parents level. Right was the entertainment space: kitchen, lounge and dining filling out the large space. Many came and went throughout the day, especially in winter when the first burned consistently.

There was a peacefulness to the space that wouldn't be there once the council arrived. Their arrival would be relayed to his father as they were being escorted by sentries from the estate gates. It would give everyone time to scatter, not that he imagined many of the pack being here for a social visit on a day like this.

There was time before that arrival happened and he planned on getting Mira familiar with his home in al the ways he knew it—before the council could ruin that for her.

He headed to the private staircase first, before he realised he couldn't track his mother's scent upstairs. Two other unfamiliar scents were attached to it and they were in the common area downstairs. The sentry who guarded the staircase gave him a nod, raising an eyebrow when he stopped. Myles waved a hand, turning, and heading back towards where his mother was, with a quick glance over his shoulder to check that Mira was following.

The hallway had been re-organised, but not as much as he'd have guessed. The long rug was white, a contrast to the dark wood—the same. The frames on the wall were now a series of monochromatic landscapes, taken by various members of their pack. The various nooks for storage, were filled with trinkets, jackets, bags and shoes leftover from those visiting—untouched. The windows were cracked open an inch, else the snow glazed over would freeze them closed. Somewhere, a pine needle diffuser was on, the scent humming through the hall. With the lack of foot traffic, there little interference to it.

He wondered what Mira was thinking. She'd taken off her gloves and scarf, tucking them into the pockets of the jacket and was staring at the storage nooks.

"Pack member belongings," said Myles. "Some leave behind for when they come back. Others use it as hand-out system. In winter it's usually the latter. Freak snow storms can hit out of nowhere and some come unprepared."

She nodded, more to herself than to him. "I thought this was the Alpha's home?"

"The grounds are communal, more of less. Neither of my parents have ever set out to create a divide."

Unlike what she was used to, where hierarchy was regimented with blood, one way or another.

"Why all the security, then?"

"Precaution," he said, simply.

She glanced around, whispering, "Because of the council?"

"They're aren't here yet. You won't be overheard." Kiva had told her enough information for her to know that answer to that. He wasn't about to downplay the situation and lie to her. "To answer your question, more or less. Don't worry about it. I'll be at your side. If need be, the sentries are not your enemy either."

If they decided to be, then they could find another pack.

Rounding the corner at the end of the hall, he pointed the the closest door, with vines hanging from the handle. "Bathroom is just there if you need it."

He didn't expect Mira to reply, and she didn't. They passed several more doors, these ones guest rooms he pointed out. Up ahead, the doors were ajar. Poking her head out, was a girl no older than five. Her blonde hair was a tangled half-braid, her cerulean eyes wide as she took in sight of them. "Mr Myles!"

Eden was her name. A student of his mother's. Both her parents did various jobs around the pack. His mother regularly looked after them outside of school hours when they couldn't be there. They weren't the only ones. These days, his mother was a babysitter as much as she was a teacher; only one of which she was paid for. She did it to help out the families of her pack, because her position gave her more freedom than others had. Another reason was entirely selfish. When Myles left, she had an empty nest. One she needed to fill somehow. This was her solution.

"Where's your sister?" he asked, stopping his approach when Mira froze behind him.

"With Mrs Ashford. We're making pancakes for breakfast. Will you eat with us?"

"Sure. Give me a second first, okay?"

Eden nodded rapidly. She didn't move, and Myles didn't ask her to. Her curiosity was harmless. Turning to Mira, he barely stopped himself from reached out to curl his fingers through the hair over her shoulder. He wasn't sure the comfort would be welcome and he wasn't about to push her. Not when she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"There's someone I want you to meet, if you're up for it." He waited for her to lift her eyes. "You can refuse."

Her expression was guarded. A clear attempt to mask the terror there. Nothing he did, or told her, would help. It pained him. Whatever mental demons she was fighting were her own to conquer. The role he played in that was up to her to decide. After the longest time, she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. He figured it was as close to a yes as he'd get.

Eden watched them both approach, her shoulder in the door jamb now. She smiled brightly at Mira, before looking back at him. "Mr Myles, is this your ma—"

"Eden," hissed Grace, poking her dark-haired head through the door next to her younger sister. "You can't ask that. It's not polite."

Undeterred, Eden went on, "But she smells like—"

"Eden."

Eden let out a long-suffering sigh, glaring at her sister. "Fine. I'm sorry."

Grace looked smug. "Who's your friend, Mr Myles? Can she have breakfast with us, too?"

Myles rolled his eyes at the ten-year-old. She put enough weight on the word friend to be as subtle as her sister. Mira didn't seem to notice, however. Or, she chose not to acknowledge it. "If Mira wants to."

Under her breath, Eden whispered Mira's name like she was committing it to memory. "Miss Mira, do you want pancakes? They're chocolate chip."

"Just Mira," came from his left.

Both girls looked confused at that. Their parents were rigid with them about forms of address, despite the insistence of his own parents that it wasn't necessary. Some were unshakeable like that, and it was easier to leave them be. Myles, at least, was called by his first name, which was more his parents could expect.

Stepping out into the hall, Eden moved straight to Mira, taking her hand. "Come with me. I'll show you where to go."

In a blink, she was being dragged away from him by a determined child. Had there been distress in her scent, Myles would have intervened. Instead he followed them through the door. The fireplace burned to the right of the room, surrounded by a square of dark sectionals. Another door closed off the dining room from view. Behind the fireplace was sliding doors that led outside. The kitchen was tucked away into the corner, a mix of modern and rustic.

"Mrs Ashford, Mira's here! She's Mr Myles' ma—"

"Eden." Grace, scolding again.

Eden ducked, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, as she dropped grip of Mira's hand. "I forgot. I'm sorry. She's so pretty and nice—"

Myles envied the innocence of children. They lived in blissful ignorance, unaware of the imminent tension. They posed as a successful distraction, as well, Mira's attention on the little girl while she babbled a tale, rather than his mother, dark hair wrapped in a bun, watching from the kitchen. Myles headed that way, wrapping an arm around his mother and bending to kiss the top of her head. An offer of submission, although a familiar, unorthodox one. In return, she nuzzled under his chin.

"How is she?"

"Terrified," he said, although the word didn't do any justice. "I'm scared it'll only get worse."

"Oh, cub." Her eyes, so like his own, misted. "I hate this for her."

So did he. Not that Myles needed to say it aloud. He was broadcasting loud and clear.

"I didn't expect you so early."

"I wanted to be here before the storm hit," he said. "And to have a proper chance to meet you, before the council arrive and taint everything."

Mira had been roped into braiding the rest of Eden's hair, Grace watching from the side. For the first time today, he saw her smile. A ghost of one, but a smile nonetheless. She'd initially been so jumpy around the girls, he was worried about them being around her, harmless or not. His own tolerance for kids had an expiration, depending on his mood.

His mother glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "I've never been so glad to be snubbed. Should we interrupt them?"

He didn't want to, but it was inevitable. Scratching the back of his neck, he avoided meeting his mother's eyes—and it had nothing to do with submission this time. "I don't know how she'll react. I didn't tell her..."

"Myles Blake Ashford, tell me you're lying."

That was the why. He said nothing. Regardless of how old he was, she could scold him like he was a child again.

"Men," she grumbled under her break, scowling at him. "I swear, stupidity is in your genetics."

Leaving him where he was, she moved across to where Mira was occupied with the girls. She didn't draw attention to herself, simply waiting for Mira to notice. When it happened, Eden stopped mid-sentence.

"Hi, Mrs Ashford," she said. "Mira was doing my hair. I think she's better than you at it."

His mother laughed. "She may well be, Eden. Are you using your manners?"

"Uh huh, all of them." She glanced up at Mira, who was tying off the end of the braid with a hand that shook. "Aren't I, Mira?"

"She is," Mira said simply.

He suddenly understood the chiding, watching Mira squirm. She had no context of the situation—because he hadn't given her any. Who knew what theories she'd come up with. His mother glanced back at him like she'd read his mind. He understood what she expressed on her face clearly: this was his mess to fix.

"Mira." He kept his voice even, and she glanced over to him, the barest moment of eye-contact. "This is my mother. The girls are two of her students."

The last part didn't seem to register. Like she'd seen a ghost, Mira stared at his mother—or rather, at her slim shoulders, covered in white cashmere.

"It's nice to meet you, Mira."

Mira went still, a second before she dropped to her knees. Her voice shook. "Ma'am, it's a privilege."

Myles caught his mother's gaze. The dismay there was tangible. Not at Mira. No, at the formality of the words, her body language and the fear in her scent. Before Myles could react, his mother was there, kneeling in front of Mira, helping her to her feet. "No need for all this, honey. And it's Lauren, not ma'am."

"I could never," said Mira on a gasp.

His mother's brows furrowed as she frowned. "Mrs Ashford, then."

Mira nodded in a rush. "Thank you."

Under normal circumstances extreme propriety bothered his parents. The pack had grown accustomed to it—beyond some of the more formal addresses. Submission when it was appropriate was expected but they made no further demands. With Mira, who was family, even if she and Myles were newly finding their fit, it went beyond simple discomfort to see her so deferential.

Knowing his mother, she'd find a way to break down that wall as soon as possible. She had a knack for it that even he couldn't comprehend.

"I heard the girls telling you all about breakfast. Would you eat with us?"

A long pause. Mira was rubbing at her wrist, at the bracelet, with compulsive focus. "I wouldn't want to intrude, ma'am."

"I wouldn't offer unless I was sure you weren't."

"If that's your preference, I'll stay, ma'am."

Expression pinched, his mother let out a breath. Her protective streak was like nothing else. Right now the target of it was Mira. Unlike Myles or his father, she wouldn't lose control, of that he was sure, despite the homicidal revenge she was plotting to herself.

"I'd love for you to stay, Mira," she said evenly.

At that, immune to the tension, Eden grabbed Mira's hand once more, tugging excitedly. "Yay! You can help me mix the batter, Mira!"

His mother raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Mira, will you help me?" Then, in a whisper, despite the fact that she knew full she'd be heard, Eden carried on, "We can lick the bowl and it can be our secret."

"Only if Mrs Ashford says it's okay, Eden."

"Please, Mrs Ashford?" asked Eden on a pout. When she got an affirmative, she squealed.

Once more, Myles found Mira being dragged away from him.

His mother came to his side. "One step at a time, cub. This is progress."

He didn't see it that way at all, but he'd take her word for it. "The council will destroy..."

"One step at a time," she repeated. "Let's enjoy breakfast together, first. The last thing you need to do is project onto her, Myles."

He was a wreck over this, and Mira didn't need to see that. Already, she'd cemented what he already knew. She far stronger—braver—than he was.

He hoped it was enough to get her through this without breaking.