Chapter 2 A Family Dinner

Lyra

I was in my room, listening to my favorite EDM artists while studying for the SATs when someone touched my shoulder.

It was my mom.

She gestured for me to remove my AirPods. "It's time for dinner, Lyra. By the way, Jax is downstairs. He brought Kira home from the library."

"Kira went to the library?" I scoffed, already annoyed. "She went to the mall."

"Well, in her defense, Kira said she went to the library first, then went to the mall to look for a gown for the uocoming prom." Mom smiled, clearly amused. "Now, scoot and say hi to Jax before he leaves. He's downstairs with your father."

"He is?" I squeaked.

I scrambled to my feet, suddenly conscious of how I looked. At five-foot-six, I wasn't particularly tall, but years of training had given me a lean, athletic build. My long, dark-brown hair fell in loose waves down my back, and I quickly pulled the elastic from my ponytail, letting it spill over my shoulders. I hurriedly ran my fingers through it, trying to tame the waves.

Mom nodded. "Your father is giving him some last-minute instructions since he's flying to Los Angeles later tonight to meet with the Irving Cosmetic Group tomorrow morning. If all goes well, we'll be supplying soybean oil and soy peptides to the biggest cosmetic manufacturer in the country. And maybe then Kira will finally take an interest in soybean production."

I glanced at myself in the mirror. My gray-green eyes stared back at me, the unusual color standing out against my dark hair. No one else in the family had eyes like mine. They were mine alone.

I quickly smoothed my hair and dabbed a little gloss onto my lips.

"Oh gosh. I forgot he was leaving for the sunny West Coast later tonight," I exclaimed, suddenly remembering.

I rushed out of my room and down the stairs.

I actually wanted to go. I wanted to sit in on the meeting, listen to the negotiations, and learn how my father handled a deal of that size.

But he had told me to let Jax handle it.

If Jax could land the deal, it would be another sign that he was the right wolf for me—and the right wolf to stand beside me when I eventually took over the pack.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my father standing in the open double doors of the manor, waving enthusiastically.

I dashed to his side just in time to catch a glimpse of Jax's short blonde hair as he waved back from his white Mercedes-Benz.

A moment later, the car disappeared into the darkness, heading toward the small village of townhomes on the eastern side of the estate where the pack's Betas and their families lived.

My father slipped an arm around my shoulders and reached for the door. Snow had begun falling again.

"Goddess, it's cold." He shivered dramatically as he pulled the door shut behind us.

I laughed. Wolves didn't actually mind the cold. My father simply enjoyed complaining about it.

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," he said. "Jax offered to wait and say hello, but the snow was picking up, and he still needed to get his luggage from home before heading to the airport. I told him he should leave. You'd understand." He gave me a knowing smile. "Besides, there'll be plenty of time for you two to be together once you're formally mated."

I nodded as he guided me toward the dining room.

"Of course, Dad. February weather is unpredictable. I don't want him getting stuck behind a huge snowdrift. Landing that deal in California is important."

"I'm counting on it for your sister's sake." His expression turned thoughtful. "I just wish your sister would show some interest in the pack's businesses. All she cares about is that platinum credit card of hers. She doesn't understand how much work goes into making sure she can buy another one of those designer bags."

He released my shoulder as we reached the entrance to the dining room. Then he turned toward me and gently cupped my cheek.

"When the responsibility of being Alpha rests on your shoulders, promise me you'll take care of your sister."

His voice had changed. There was something solemn in it now.

"I hope to find her a good mate, but I need to know you'll take care of her no matter what."

"Dad, you sound like you're on your deathbed." I laughed softly.

"I'm serious, Lyra." He looked directly into my eyes. "Promise me."

My smile faded and I simply nodded. "I promise."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "It gives me great joy knowing I can always count on you." Then, as though the seriousness of the moment had never happened, he gestured toward the table. "Now, let's eat."

Dinner was always a family affair in the grand dining room of Sinclair Manor. The long, polished table gleamed beneath the soft glow of the chandelier, while the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air.

My father sat at the head of the table, broad-shouldered and composed, with my mother beside him, her presence a quiet anchor of warmth.

Across from me sat my younger sister, Kira. Blonde, pretty, and sixteen, she was perpetually restless, scrolling endlessly through her phone and barely listening to the conversation drifting around the table.

Agriculture, timber, mining, shipping—the endless machinery of the family business held absolutely no interest for her.

Kira's world was fashion. Designer handbags. New shoes. Jewelry. The latest collections whispered about from Paris and Milan.

Ask her the price of a ton of taconite, and she'd probably stare at you as though you'd spoken to her in another language.

"Kira, what did I say about phones at the table?" Mom asked, holding out her hand.

Kira quickly slipped her phone into the pocket of her shorts. "Sorry, Mom. It's just schoolwork."

Mom gave her a look before withdrawing her hand and continuing with her salad. "Speaking of schoolwork, I had an interesting conversation with Headmaster Thorne right before dinner."

Kira's hand froze.

"He wants to know when you'll be well enough to return to class. Apparently, he received a doctor's note saying you needed a mental-health break."

My father's fork and knife crashed against his plate.

"Kira Voss Sinclair!" His voice boomed through the dining hall. "You haven't been going to class?"

Kira flinched.

"For how long?!"

My father's Alpha aura surged through the room.

My head immediately began to throb beneath the pressure. I could withstand my father's aura better than most wolves, partly because of my own rank and partly because I'd spent my entire life around it.

Kira wasn't so lucky.

She clutched her head, her face twisting as the Alpha's command radiated through the room.

I winced in sympathy.

I could do something similar, too—push my own aura against weaker wolves and make them feel my authority.

But I was nowhere near my father's level. Not even close.

And judging by the look on Kira's face, she was beginning to realize just how much trouble she was in.

Kira was so dead.