His Unidentified & Untouchable Mate

Approval

Jacob POV

The day dragged on.

Aside from the wards applying to stay for the first time, we had to sit down and interview the wards that had been with us for a while. Some played integral parts in the functioning of the pack. For some, we had to offer an exit interview.

At the end of the day, the four aides slogging through interviews sat down in a meeting with my father. One by one, we went through the files of those we wanted approval on, and those we’d let go.

I kept three of the ten wards I’d interviewed. Zahraa first, an amnesiac half-demon woman serving as a nurse and a human man that worked as an electrician who simply enjoyed working with the pack and didn’t want to leave. He was turning sixty this year – it’d be cruel to uproot him now.

When it came my turn to sit in with father, I knocked twice and entered without awaiting approval to do so. “Dad,” I greeted with a nod.

“Son,” he replied, mocking the formality of my tone. “What have you got for me?”

“Three out of ten,” I replied.

His eyebrows raised. “Harsh as ever, aren’t you? Most of the other aides wanted to keep at least half of their candidates.”

“A wolf pack should primarily be for wolves,” I replied with a shrug, dropping my files on his desk and settling into the chair in front of him. “And if these wards can have fulfilling lives outside of the pack, I think they should. Some people just want to cling to what’s familiar. The seven I chose to part with, I think we’re holding them back more than they think.”

“Oh, is that it?” Derick Pagiel replied with a huff. “Didn’t realize this was such a bad place to live.”

“It’s not,” I replied, maybe a little too defensively. “They just don’t belong.”

“Sure, sure,” dad flipped through the files, nodding. “This man – why does he belong?” he asked, flipping open the file to Tim Karthy, the electrician.

“Mr. Karthy has been with us since he was ten years old,” I answered, leaning back and using the chair to crack my back. These long office days were murderous. “Not only does he like it here, he says he can’t imagine integrating back into human society at his age. He wants to retire with the pack, and after over thirty-five years of service to the Wild Fangs, I see no reason to deny him that.”

“So, more so than just approving him for another year, you want to grant him retirement?” father asked, reading through the file again. He started nodding as he did so.

“Yes,” I admitted, “he’s more than deserved it. Though, he says he wants to work as long as he’s able. He’s not looking at retiring just yet – just soon.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll sit on this one, I think,” he said, adding the folder to what I’m sure was a large pile of unsures. “This next one – I hear she’s not doing so well.”

I shook my head, “She’s great at her job, but she still doesn’t remember who she is or where she came from. And her origins have everyone a little too on-edge to let her go.”

Dad nodded. Demons were a big problem in LA. They weren’t that common in other regions, to my knowledge, but LA had a large witch population – and the only way a demon could make it out of hell is by summons. Somehow, someway, a demon had been summoned, and a baby had been born – how that baby ended up with a nursing degree and full-on amnesia was beyond us all, but Regalia North needed the pack.

Mostly because she was prone to extreme bouts of rage that left a trail of destruction. She had a gamma accompanying her at all times to keep her in check, but even that sometimes didn’t help.

We were all under the assumption that, at some point, she’d pick a fight with the wrong wolf and get executed.

“She’s too dangerous to be left alone,” I replied with a sigh. “But she’s useful. She has a real knack for healing, or so I hear.”

“I don’t like the damages we’ve had to repair because of her,” dad wrinkled his nose. “She’s clearly too dangerous to be left alone, but…”

“Mom loves her,” I reminded him. “She’s helped her through every birth mom has had – she swears Regalia is the only reason she lived after seven kids.”

“She’s probably not wrong. She was pretty weak after Amalia was born.” Dad replied. He shut the folder and put it in the unsure pile, with a grumpy, “I’ll talk to Jasmine about this later. Now onto – oh. I was waiting for this folder to cross my desk.”

My brows raised. “Zahraa? Really?”

His eyes met mine, a spark of realization in them. “You know her?”

“I met her briefly before. We talked a bit. She’s a nice girl – but why were you waiting?” I asked.

“Rowan talks about her a lot,” dad admitted. “Puts a lot of effort and attention into her. I’m under the assumption he wants to take her as a chosen mate at some point – after he sorts out her little issues.”

That shouldn’t have made me bristle like it did.

Rowan wasn’t too much older than us. He was 22, a college graduate, and honestly, the best out of all my brothers – myself included. But had he been preparing Zahraa to take on the role left behind by his dead mate?

The idea made me furious.

“What gave you that impression?” I asked, “I mean – he puts a lot of effort into all of the wards, doesn’t he?”

Dad shrugged, shutting her file, and slipping it nonchalantly into the approved pile. “Sure. But when he talks about her, he talks as though she’s special. Do you know if she’s going to your party tonight? I would love to meet her.”

That bristled me even more – it was my birthday, my party, but dad wanted to attend to meet a girl my brother might choose to replace his mate?

And wasn’t that just typical?

“I don’t know,” I made my tone clipped, standing, and making for the door. If you’re all that curious, ask Rowan.”