A vow resonated with power, making it binding. If a wolf broke their vow, the Alpha would mete out punishment as he saw fit. A Blood Oath was deathly.
Nothing in Pack was more powerful than the Alpha. The Alpha’s blood was the key to that power. When a wolf’s blood mingled with his Alpha’s, and an oath was spoken, it sealed an unbreakable deal. If I were to try to go against my word, to fight my father, my death would be instantaneous. My father’s blood would stop my heart, or clot my brain, or something akin to that. Who knew exactly how it all worked? I just knew it did. And so did everyone else in the room.
Few wolves ever swore Blood Oaths, because they forfeited their lives if they ever changed their minds. I wasn’t going to change my mind. For the sake of my family, I couldn’t and wouldn’t.
My father turned to me, his eyes steady. I could see regret in them, but also acceptance. He knew as well as I did that we had no other choice but to move forward like this.
There was a sharp intake of breath from across the table before the caustic words hit the air. “If she’s able to block your power in her mind already, do we know if the Blood Oath will even work?” Hank sneered. “She could fake it.”
My father looked directly at Hank, rolling his shoulders forward. Hank had exhausted his get-out-of-jail-free cards. I’d never understood why my father put up with Hank’s antics—he was a constant pain in the ass—but he must’ve had a good reason. Or Hank would already be dead.
My father growled, and Hank dropped his eyes and sat. “Blood works differently. Both Jessica and I will feel the oath as it binds and accepts us. I will know.” His voice was a command. No one else spoke.
James stepped from behind my chair and handed my father a hunting knife from its resting place on his belt. My father handed me the blade after making a quick incision in his palm. His blood ran thick and dark, but would be open on his hand only a few moments before it healed over.
I took the blade, staring straight at my father, and said what I hoped would be enough. “I, Jessica Ann McClain, will never challenge Callum Sèitheach McClain for his rightful place as Pack Alpha of the U.S. Northern Territories for as long as I live and breathe. I swear it on this Blood Oath, with this Pack as witness. If I so do, may I die.”
I sliced my palm open. Bright red blood flowed like a river. I grasped my father’s outstretched hand. He closed his eyes and arched his head backward. Power radiated between us in a pulsating mass of energy. I was sure the other wolves could feel it as well. His blood rocketed through my system like a meteor, hot and dangerous.
My body shuddered with the impact. My wolf howled. Every single molecule of my being stung like it’d been seared. His blood was unbelievably strong. My body raced to process the influx of his power as it mingled with mine. My wolf barked and scratched her claws along the floor of my mind, shaking her head like a bee had flown in her ear.
We stayed like that for another few seconds.
“It is done.” My father unclasped his hand, breaking the connection.
His wound was completely healed. Mine continued to bleed. Nick handed me a set of napkins from the coffee cart.
My father sat down without looking at me.
I resumed my seat and blotted the napkins into my still healing skin.
Rich Garley snorted. “Well, if she can’t heal a flesh wound like that”—he pointed at my still dripping hand—“she can’t be that much of a threat. I, for one, am satisfied.” He looked around the room to other nods of approval.
Danny and Devon nodded their heads up and down in unison. My gaze landed on Grady, who hadn’t uttered a word since I’d walked into the room. He appraised me carefully with open speculation. His wise eyes lingered on my hand, his face drawn in an inscrutable line. I hoped like hell he hadn’t already discovered what my father and I were trying so well to hide during our little demonstration.
If he knew already, the others wouldn’t be fooled so easily.
Power had swirled as our blood merged. That part had not been a lie. But I knew in my soul, just as my father knew.
The Blood Oath did not claim me.
15
“Devon”—my father was back to business in the span of a heartbeat—“give us an update on what you’ve found about the rogue who attacked Jessica last night.”
My father was clearly not going to risk taking any questions about what had just gone on between us. We both knew he should have shared it with the Circle, but he’d chosen in an instant to protect me against all other rational thought.
He was my father and I love him for it, even though it put us in a dangerous position. The Pack could wage war on him for the betrayal, if they ever found out.