Wolfsbane (Werewolves of Boston #1) - S.J. Himes Page 0,1

else with human blood can transform, Mom. I’m the only one who can’t.”

“And there is nothing wrong with that,” Scylla said, echoing the same sentiments she’d been expressing his entire life. Sometimes he believed her, but their pack didn’t hold the same views. He wasn’t a werewolf unless he could transform. Otherwise, he was just a mixed-blood hybrid who was too human to be pack.

The moonrise meeting was exactly what it sounded like—the hour the moon rose in the sky over Boston, the pack meeting would begin. Which was a pain, as moonrise was never at the same time each night throughout the year, so sometimes the meeting was held during the afternoon, or late at night, the only time they didn’t meet was when it interfered with Alpha’s sleep. Tradition was important, right up until it inconvenienced their alpha—never mind that not having a set time was a hassle to his entire pack.

Rael walked with his mother down the street outside the alpha’s house, the McMansion an anachronistic blip on an otherwise historic street. According to Scylla, the old mansion that once stood there for a couple hundred years was torn down and replaced by the current eyesore before he was born. That always made him sad and angry, all that history destroyed because it wasn’t shiny and new. As it was, the house was three stories tall, clunky, and took up nearly the entire lot; the only thing making it tolerable was the tiny yard in the back that abutted a greenway along a river and part of a nearby park.

Pack members greeted each other as they all headed for the house, some people were dropped off, others double-parked on the residential street, not caring how their vehicles blocked traffic for everyone else who lived on the block. Alpha Mercer was a selfish dick—most of the top tier wolves in the pack emulated his behavior. Only a couple were decent people.

He caught sight of one such pack member, standing tall amongst those around him, broad shoulders and rich mahogany hair making him easy to spot in the growing mass of werewolves all heading for the front door.

“Jameson looks nice tonight,” Scylla said with a sharp smile. He cast her a glare then went back to staring, tucking his hands into his pockets so no one saw how his fingers clenched. Every single atom of his body wanted to reach out and touch, but Jameson wasn’t his. Hell, Jameson was single and had been for longer than Rael could remember.

“He looks nice all the time, Mom, and you know it.” He tried to sound annoyed, but he knew he failed when his mother snorted out a short laugh.

“Honey, just talk to him. Jameson is a nice guy, and a strong alpha.” Scylla lowered her voice as they reached the house. “He looks at you just as much as you look at him.”

He doubted that. Jameson could do better than a hybrid who couldn’t transform. He was just a really nice guy and made an effort to talk to Rael when no one else did. They just weren’t friends. Jameson was six years older than Rael, and they hadn’t grown up together. Never mind that Jameson always made time for him during pack runs and meetings, and treated him with respect, and never avoided him, and every time Rael found himself in trouble with a less-than-open-minded packmate, Jameson interceded and protected him. Each time Jameson treated Rael like he mattered, Rael fell that much more in love with him.

It hurt to talk to Jameson sometimes, and it got worse a year ago after his seventeenth birthday, when his childhood crush morphed into a painful, unrequited love. Rael did his best to hide how he felt, but when surrounded by people with powerful, heightened senses, it was almost impossible. His only option was to limit his interactions with the members of the pack who taunted him for his feelings, and with Jameson himself.

Jameson Mercer was Alpha Bertram Mercer’s nephew, the son of Bertram’s deceased younger brother. Jameson lost his father when he was five, and while Rael never knew his own father, he felt a kinship to Jameson through the shared loss of their fathers. It was a connection that was tenuous at best, but Jameson never made fun of Rael for not having a father, or for his late father being human.

Since Jameson was Bertram Mercer’s closest relative who was an alpha, Jameson was also the presumptive heir of the