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How many young men had been abandoned to assimilate into a society they’d been raised to believe they had no place? Men who knew they had the chance to claim the birthright of a wolf but instead wound up abandoned because they were inferior.

Practically treated like garbage by the only family they knew.

At least the deltas and omegas who remained reaped the rewards of the Sarvari.

The power of the wolf and its gifts had proven to be one of the greatest motivators and manipulation tools at Grey’s disposal. Not only giving anyone with the Dekker name power but making them obscenely rich.

Money Jonathan’s father spent to make their pack the strongest in their Clan.

The intercom on the wall clicked, and a voice traveled through the speaker. “We’re ready when you are, sir.”

Grey put a finger on the talk button of the intercom but didn’t press it. To Jonathan, he said, “Do you want all three of them or should I tell Matt he’ll be getting second pick?”

Jonathan had already made it clear he wouldn’t take Lee or Bennet. He’d wind up killing them for disrespecting the ranks.

Or castrating them if they didn’t take no for an answer from a delta or omega.

But at least he’d be able to overpower them if he needed to. Matt, however?

“You do realize Bennet and Lee are more likely to mount Matt than obey him,” Jonathan said.

The flashes of green in Grey’s eyes brightened. “If he’s not strong enough to handle them, then maybe he doesn’t need to be ameta-packleader.”

“He could be strong enough if you’d start him off with someone at his level. He’s young.” And an arrogant, self-inflated hothead, but it didn’t mean he deserved to be stripped of rank in that manner.

“If he can’t handle them, then he’s meat.”

Of course he was.

Grey wouldn’t have put another male in the position to take on teammates like Bennet and Lee. But he had no mercy when it came to his own beta sons.

“Well?” Grey said.

Jonathan wanted to keep Matt from being humiliated, but he had to think of the other men in his meta-pack, especially the deltas. They were prime targets for cast-off aggression.

That left only one answer. “No, sir.”

Grey curled the side of his mouth. “I see.” To Frost, he said, “I suppose you’re still content following my son around rather than building your own team.” It was clearly not a question.

Frost dropped his chin to his chest. An act of agreement rather than submission. If he’d been a different male, Grey would have drawn blood. But Frost was a beta to be respected. Even if, for some unknown reason, he continuously refused to build his own meta-pack.

Grey pushed the intercom button. “Tell Matt he’ll be taking Bennet and Lee into his meta-pack.”

“Yes, sir.” The intercom clicked off.

One of the pack doctors entered the containment room with a pneumatic injector. Two vial cartridges sat side by side on the top. One, a neurological receptor inhibitor to lessen the shock of going from above average human level senses to beyond the olfactory, visual, tactile, and auditory input of any animal on earth.

The overload could complicate a man’s ability to exit Phase and cause them to tear out their eyes and ears or rip off their skin to escape the lava melting their nerves.

Jonathan had experienced the pain because he and his brothers hadn’t had the luxury of the inhibitor.

Another testament to Grey’s higher expectations with hisget.

The doctor looked up at the observation window. Most didn’t want to dose without at least one First Beta in the room. The VrK usually took a few minutes to kick in, but occasionally there were fast metabolizers who Phased within seconds of receiving a dose.

Delta pack doctors would never survive the attack of a beta lit up by the VrK.

Jonathan exited the room.


Tags: Adrienne Wilder Wolves Incarnate Fantasy