Then I got to the last Were. A redhead. He was the hardest of the bunch. Being Donovan’s true mate meant that I’d basically become his surrogate. Eventually, I’d be able to use his power almost as if it were my own, and pack position wouldn’t be an issue. I was the Alpha’s mate. Full stop. But we hadn’t had our ceremony yet, so I had to make this guy accept my future position. Staring him down went against all my instincts and training, but making my standing known from day one was essential.

I took in the man’s hair, a total knotted mess, and the bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept for at least two days. Poor guy. Losing the pack’s second had done a number on him, but exhausted or not, he wouldn’t look away. I respected that, but it wasn’t going to fly with me.

I dropped my bag from my shoulder down to my hand, ready to let it go and fight if I had to.

Donovan stepped beside me. Everyone’s attention went immediately to him.

“This is my mate, Meredith Molloney.” He paused to let that sink in.

The guy I’d been staring down flushed red, and I didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment. Something about his stance told me that it was more likely anger, but I didn’t want to be a total pessimist. He might have realized he should’ve given in.

“Ian Murry is my fourth.” He gestured to the redheaded guy. “He also has the pleasure of being my cousin.”

Ian laughed, and goose bumps ran up my arms. The sound was a total echo of Donovan, and as I studied Ian, I realized his eyes were the same, and so was the shape of his mouth. I’d been so focused on the power display that I hadn’t seen what was in front of me. Except for the hair, they could’ve been brothers. Watching them clasp forearms and greet each other in Irish was eerie.

Who knew there could be two Donovans?

I stood aside as Donovan greeted the rest of the lineup. It was interesting seeing the change in Donovan’s posture. His being. The way he spoke grew a little colder and more authoritative. He stood a little taller, with his head held a bit higher. But it wasn’t just his outward appearance that changed. The difference came from within.

He held back his alpha energy all the time, so much so that even an alpha Were could overlook him. But when Donovan wanted to—when it suited his needs—power flowed out of him by the bucketful. Right now, it was pouring over us until I was nearly drowning. My skin grew tight as my wolf started to surface.

He wasn’t my Donovan anymore. He was Donovan Murry, one of the Council of Seven, Alpha of the Irish pack.

The guy who’d first accepted me approached Donovan next and gave him a big hug. They were friendly. “Glad to have you home,” he said.