Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Together with Jessie, he’s hosting a shifter conclave—the first gathering of its kind in years. The last one in recorded history ended in bloodshed.
This time, however, they aren’t just inviting shifters into their territory. Gargoyles and basajaunak have been called in as well.
With decades of grudges, rivalries, and power struggles converging in one place, the conclave is a disaster waiting to happen. And that’s before the enemies determined to crush Austin and Jessie’s growing alliance make their move.
Keeping the peace may be impossible. Surviving the gathering might be even harder.
But if the conclave succeeds, it could reshape the future of the supernatural world forever. If it fails, history won’t just repeat itself—it will be remembered as the day everything fell apart
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Kingsley
His phone vibrated within the center console as he pulled up to his house. He glanced at the screen, finding a number he didn’t recognize. The area code was in Austin’s area.
He grabbed the phone, his bag, and the bundle of flowers he’d bought as he climbed from the car, fatigue dragging at him. They’d been training hard since Austin had told him about the conclave. There would be rules similar to a gargoyle meeting, apparently, defining the number of pack members that could be brought inside territory limits, but that didn’t give them any assurances. The amount of power amassed would make some shifters spiral. They’d act out, push for dominance, and, possibly, mindlessly rage. There was no telling. Kingsley wanted his people ready to help Austin at a moment’s notice. They had seven months to do so.
Despite the danger and uncertainty, Austin was on the verge of making a name for himself in a major way. He wouldn’t be “Black Sheep Barazza” anymore, Kingsley was sure of it. Austin’s ingenuity in how he planned to structure the conclave was incredible. He’d opened his mind to the different magical types of the world, and he and Jessie were fusing the best each species had to offer.
With a little smile and warmth in his soul, Kingsley slung his bag over his shoulder, balanced the flowers in the crook of his elbow, and made his way up the walk. He slid the bar on the screen to answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Kingsley Barazza.”
Kingsley didn’t recognize the deep, growling voice, heavily laced with command.
Caught off guard, his hackles rising, he pulled the phone from his ear to check the screen. Definitely an unknown. Who the hell had his private number?
“Yes,” he replied, the question implied in his tone.
“Hello. I got your number from Austin.” The man paused, then added, “Steele,” as though it were an afterthought.
That was…odd. Usually, Austin would give Kingsley a heads-up if he gave his number out.
If this was a game or joke of some kind, Kingsley was too tired to play.
He silently waited for the unknown caller to go on as he opened the front door. The soft, spicy smell of home greeted him.
He dropped his pack beside the little table by the door, readjusted the flowers in his free hand, and continued on toward the kitchen.
“My name is Aljoe,” the man on the phone said, “given to me by the Ivy House crew. You’d know me by my former name, Yazanth.” Again, he paused. “Golden Fang.”
A jolt of adrenaline made Kingsley freeze just inside the archway of the great room. His hand involuntarily squeezed, crushing the flower stems and crinkling the paper.
Earnessa looked up from the kitchen counter in concern.
A game or joke, indeed. Austin was going to get hell for this. Of all the people to let blindside Kingsley, that bastard.
“Alpha,” Kingsley said, trying to keep his cool.
It was not easy. Yazanth Golden Fang was a legend in the shifter community, only a teen when he was forced to take over his large, powerful, sprawling pack. The very people who’d worked with his father and had helped raise him turned on him in the name of greed. He’d fought tooth and nail to keep that pack whole. To protect it against glory seekers and challengers from outside and within.
Despite all that, he’d made that territory blossom. He had an incredible amount of knowledge and had always demonstrated the exemplary application of it. There was a reason his name was said with reverence.
Then, in his final act as alpha, he’d turned the pack over to his sisters and walked away. He’d sacrificed his own future to protect theirs.
There was no more upstanding alpha in the world. Not in Kingsley’s eyes, anyway.
And that legendary alpha had just called Kingsley on his private line…like a friend.
He forced himself to loosen the hold on the flowers. With a deep breath, he kept walking, shaking his head to ward off Earnessa’s alarm.
“Austin mentioned he told you of my plans to join his and Jessie’s convocation,” the alpha went on.
I didn’t tell a soul outside of my household, I promise, he nearly rushed to say. Loose lips sink ships—I know how it goes.
He tempered his urgency. “He did. The knowledge has been kept in the family.”
This alpha wasn’t much older than Kingsley, but Kingsley still felt like a child being allowed at the holiday party adult table. Most alphas would. A planet being compared to the sun. A Honda parked next to a Ferrari.
“Thank you,” Yazanth said.
Kingsley tried to give his mate a smile as he presented her with the flowers, but his expression was still frozen in shock. Or maybe reverence?
Thank God he was at home. This would be very embarrassing if he’d still been training or walking into the office.
“What can I do for you, Alpha?” Kingsley asked.