Caleb pulled into his driveway and got out of his car. His muscles ached and he still smelled like soot and chemicals. All he wanted to do was take a long shower and fall asleep until his next shift.

"Caleb?"

He turned around, keys dangling from his hand as his father crossed the yard. "Hey," Caleb greeted. "What's up?"

Ryan Stillwater's lips were set in a thin line and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, son, but your grandfather wants to see you."

Caleb stiffened as if he'd been dunked in a giant vat of ice water. "W-why?"

"I don't know. I told him that you had a long day, but he insisted."

A wave of vertigo crashed into Caleb and he stumbled, bracing one hand on his car to steady himself. "Is it about Sawyer?" he whispered, pressing his other hand against his racing heart. "I can't have him find out, Dad—I just can't ..."

"Steady, Caleb," his father said, reaching out and wrapping an arm around his son's shoulders. "It could be something trivial for all we know."

Slowly, Caleb nodded. "Where is he? At the casino?"

His father nodded, the muscles of his jaw tightening. Of course Owen Stillwater would choose to have a "family" meeting at the casino. "Look, if you're tired, I'll drive you. I don't want you getting into an accident."

Caleb started to decline, but a large yawn chose that moment to escape his lips. "Yeah, I think that you'd better."

"My truck or yours?"

Caleb glanced at the Charger; he didn't allow anyone to drive his car, but he really didn't want to hike all the way up to the main house. Reluctantly, he handed his father the keys. Dad flashed him a little grin and they climbed into the car.

"Whatever you do," Dad cautioned as they drove into the city, "don't give your grandfather any hints about Sawyer. Play dumb."

Mutely, Caleb nodded, nerves slowly unraveling. He could only sit there and pray that the alpha didn't feel the need to unleash his Authority. If that happened, he was done for.

Dad pulled the Charger into the VIP lot in the garage and parked it in his designated spot—right next to Owen's black Range Rover. They got out of the car and entered the elevator lobby, taking a car to the casino floor. As the doors opened, Caleb was hit with a cacophony of sounds, assaulting his already frayed senses.

Quickly, the two werewolves crossed the casino floor and ducked into an employee entrance. Nodding to employees, they entered a private elevator at the end of the hall and rode it to the very top of the building.

Passing cubicles and black office doors, they reached a large steel door with a harried-looking female werewolf sitting at a desk outside. She looked up, jumping slightly in her chair as recognition dawned in her grey eyes.

"Do you need to see your father, sir?" the blonde asked, surprise giving way to appreciation as she looked Caleb up and down.

Ryan Stillwater snorted softly. "No, he asked to see my son."

"I'll let the Alpha know you're here." She reached down to grab her phone, never taking her eyes off of Caleb.

His father laid a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "I'll be waiting in my office when you're done."

Swallowing, Caleb nodded.

"You can go in," the secretary said, gesturing to the door.

Thanking the woman, Caleb stepped forward, wrapped his hand around the door handle, and entered his grandfather's office.

The corner office of Hecate City's alpha was as empty as a billionaire's mansion. There was a leather couch, two leather chairs, a couple of shelves, and a massive granite desk—all in black—but that was it for decoration. No paintings on the walls, no personal effects, not even a single family photo to be found.

Alpha Owen Stillwater sat behind his monstrosity of a desk, hands clasped together, dark eyes boring into Caleb's. His grandfather was a werewolf in his prime, strong, broad-shouldered, and handsome in an old Hollywood movie star way. A few threads of silver flowed through his short-cropped black hair, but other than that, his appearance screamed a rugged forty when he was actually seventy-two. Not exactly the picture of a man forced to pass his Authority onto his heir.

"Caleb," Owen Stillwater rumbled. "Sit."

While his grandfather's voice lacked the timbre of Authority, it was still an order. Caleb crossed the room and sat down in one of the two chairs. His fingers curled over the armrests, digging into the buttery-soft leather.

The alpha's nose twitched and his upper lip curled. "What the hell is that smell? Is that you, boy?"

"I just got off-duty," Caleb explained. "I was at a house fire."

Owen snorted and sat back in his oversized swivel chair. "I still don't understand why you chose that job," he said, crossing one leg over his knee as he began to rock back and forth. "I had a perfectly suitable position open here for you."

Was this the reason for the summons? Caleb wondered. Was he trying to get him to work for the casino?

"I've always wanted to be a firefighter," he explained gingerly. "Ever since I was a kid." If you were any kind of grandfather, you would have known that.

His grandfather dismissed those words with a wave of his hand. "You seeing anyone, boy?" he asked with an abrupt change of subject.

A giant shard of ice slammed itself down Caleb's back; he could feel the sweat begin to prickle beneath his armpits. "No."

Alpha Owen's eyes narrowed and he ceased rocking. "Don't tell me that you're still hung up on that faerie girl." Before Caleb could answer, the alpha growled, "She's gone, boy, and she's not coming back. I saw to it."

Caleb stared at him, not knowing how to proceed. Fortunately for him, Owen Stillwater was still talking. "I had your grandmother drum up a list of well-bred beta girls for you to consider." Reaching into a desk drawer, his grandfather pulled out a stack of papers, each with a photo clipped to it. "They're all eighteen to twenty-five, attractive, small, busty, and eager to please." He slid them across the desk toward Caleb. "My advice to you, boy? Make sure you pick one who's also obedient. An alpha's wife should never argue with him—understood?"

"Yes, Grandpa," Caleb murmured automatically, taking the packet. He knew his grandfather was a raging misogynist in addition to being racist, but he'd never experienced it first-hand. Owen would probably keel over when Dad announced Naomi was his heir at the Full Moon Festival.

"And another thing," Owen said as Caleb made a half-hearted attempt to flip through the beta girls. "I need you to back your father up. He's too emotional. Gets it from his bitch of a mother," he rumbled, looking off into the distance. "If I'd had more sons, I'd choose one of them instead, but all your grandmother gave me were daughters."

Caleb tried to picture his four half-aunts, but it was hard. They didn't exactly have large family picnics when he was growing up, and his grandfather and step-grandmother had made sure to marry each one of them off to prominent beta families as soon as possible.

"Yes, Grandpa."

"Good."

Owen leaned back in his chair, rocking back and forth. Caleb watched his grandfather, not knowing if this was a dismissal or some interrogation technique he was unaware of.

"Do you know what moonfever is, boy?"

Caleb blinked, taken aback. "Yes." Moonfever was an extremely rare disease that affected a werewolf's ability to shift. It was incurable. But with alphas, it also eroded their ability to tap into the Authority, thus rendering them incapable of leading.

"You ... have moonfever?" Caleb asked, shifting in the leather chair.

"Yes, and it fucking sucks," Owen snarled, fists clenching. "After my father was murdered, I held together the scraps of his empire with my bare hands. I kept everything from falling apart. And this is how Hecate rewards me? By stripping me of my ability to lead!" He hit the surface of the desk hard with one fist, a resounding bang echoing through the empty office. "Callous bitch," he growled, eyes glowing a faint orange.

"I'm sorry, Grandpa."

"Sorry? You're sorry, boy? Goddess, you're as soft as your father," he spat. "But I've no choice in the matter. It's either you and your father or one of my cousins. And sure as hell, that's not going to happen." Rising swiftly, Owen jabbed a finger down at the papers in Caleb's hands. "Now, pick one of those girls and knock her up. The pack needs to know that the alpha's family is strong and the future is secure."

Caleb's hands clenched, wrinkling the papers. "Yes, Alpha."

"Fuck me," his grandfather grumbled, sitting back down. "Now get out of here. And not a word of my illness to anyone, do you understand?"

Owen's eyes glowed orange as he spoke, words reverberating like the strumming of guitar strings. Caleb felt his Authority flow over him, but it was weak. The claws of the alpha's compulsion nicked at the younger werewolf's will but didn't latch on. Not that he'd let his grandfather know.

"Understood, Alpha."

Caleb stood up as Owen looked away and left the office, still clutching the papers. He said nothing as he fetched his father from his desk. Ryan Stillwater recognized the dazed look in his son's eye and they silently agreed not to speak until they were safely in Caleb's Charger.

"What the hell are those pictures for?" Dad asked as he pulled out of the lot.

"Grandpa wants me to find a nice, submissive beta girl and get her pregnant. These are his candidates."

Dad snorted and shook his head. "Nice. Submissive. That man is a piece of work. So, I take it he's still in the dark about Sawyer?"

Caleb breathed out a long sigh of relief. "Yes, thank the goddess. He also told me about the moonfever."

"He did?" Dad raised an eyebrow. "I didn't expect him to tell you. Hell, I didn't expect him to tell me. Your grandfather has never admitted to a weakness for as long as I've been alive." Dad stared out the car window. "Odd ..."

Yes, it was odd, Caleb thought. Cognitive issues were not a symptom of moonfever. But at least Sawyer's return was still a secret. That's all that mattered to him. Looking down at his lap, he took the printouts, crumpled them into a big ball, and stomped on them. He'd burn everything when he got home.

After he slept.