The Tyrant Alpha’s Rejected Mate (The Five Packs Book 1)

Una’s surfing the internet, and I’m having a meltdown.

All afternoon, every hour or so, a memory comes back, and I’m lost in my head, twitchy and sweating. She’s scrolling like I’m not over here losing my mind.

I lean against the ropes and let Tye coach. I’ve got Finn and Conor in the ring. Tye’s missed at least three fouls by Finn so far—in fairness, I caught ‘em too late to call—but that’s all right. Jimmy is watching, and he’s up next. Finn’s gonna go down the second after the buzzer.

It’s better that I hang back. Between the flashbacks and Una curled in her chair in the corner, I have zero focus, and my wolf’s—unsteady.

Una’s ignoring everything, reading on her phone. That raised a few eyebrows, but I’m mostly working B-roster today, and none of them would say shit even if they had a mouth full. Fallon tried to check his voicemail messages, though, when he was waiting his turn on deck. Now he’s gonna need a new phone. And he’s gonna have to ice his tailbone where I kicked it, too. Rules have changed for females, not for training.

It’s like I’ve lost control of my brain. My memories are all mixed up. There are flashes of last night. The taste of Una’s cream on my fingers. The way she splayed her legs, urging me on. Demanding. I’m rock-hard in grey sweatpants, watching dudes spar. It’s awkward.

There’s no sign of bossy Una from last night now. She’s back to reserved, tryin’ to keep a low profile, but that’s impossible because—besides the whole phone thing—she’s the only female present, and when a male so much as glances in her direction, my wolf howls a warning. Not a growl. He’s not being subtle. He shakes the rafters, and everyone’s nerves are raw from it, including mine.

But it’s good practice for the males. There’s lots of howling on fight night.

I’d be cool if the memories were just from last night, but there are other ones, too. Faded. Old. Unfamiliar.

Una as a young girl, her body bloody and limp in the bright green grass. My wolf straddling her, snapping his teeth at my father as he commands, “Shift, boy. There’s nothing you can do for her now.”

Her slight weight in my arms as I lift her into a truck bed and then haul my broken body in after, terrified they’ll peel off and leave me behind. It was the red Ford I learned on. The one with the trick engine that Una’s been taking to town.

In my memory, when the truck finally comes to a stop, the crone lowers the tailgate, her crow’s feet and silver hair exactly as they are now, tears filling her flinty eyes as she says, “Oh, Killian. Your mate. What have they done? I told them about Thomas Fane. I warned them.”

In the present moment, my body primes to fight, but there are no enemies. Only the familiar sights and sounds of the gym.

I reach out for the bond. It’s there. My end is strong and sure, as much a part of me as any other organ.

And it always has been, hasn’t it? It’s not new. I know that now.

How did I not feel it?

What else is there that I can’t see?

Una’s too far away. I give the bond a tug, try to get her to come to me like she did at breakfast. She unburies her nose from her phone, blinking like an owl. I give another tug.

She frowns. Then she gives her own end of the bond a grumpy yank.

It’s weak but unmistakable. It lightens my heart and calms my nerves.

I jog over to where she’s sitting and squat so we’re eye level. She draws herself up, flattening herself against the back of the chair.

I grin. She hikes her chin.

“Well?” I grab the sides of the chair so she’s bracketed by my arms. My wolf and I both like her there. He simmers down, eases back. He’s been riding me just below the skin. A little space is a relief.

“Well, what?”

“You called me. I came.”

“I didn’t, and you know it. I was telling you to knock it off.”

I cock my head. “How was I supposed to know that? Felt like a ‘come here’ tug to me.”

“It’s never gonna be a ‘come here’ tug.”

“Never’s a long time.”

She’s scowling, and I’m growing lighter by the second. Her warm, homey scent is in my nose, and I am where I’m supposed to be.

“You can go back over there.” She waves at the ring.

I lower to my knees, sit on my heels. “I like it better here.”

She glances over my shoulder. “Your males are staring. You better get up before they all challenge you. You’re kneeling in front of a female.”

“I am, aren’t I?” I move my hands to rest them on her thighs. She glares, but she doesn’t push me away. She clutches her phone tight against her belly.

“You’re losing status as we speak,” she says.

I shrug.

Her beautiful brown eyes darken. “It’s a joke to you, isn’t it?”

She’s actually getting mad. I can feel it spark through the bond. Is she worried that there’s a scenario where I’d actually lose alpha rank? That I wouldn’t be able to protect her? That’s never gonna happen.

“I’m not going to lose rank.”

“That’s right. You won’t. You can do whatever you want, right?” Her jaw is so tight, her chin dimples. “But if he loses, maybe he has to sit with the maintenance crew.” She points over my shoulder at either Fallon or Conor. “Maybe he and his mate have to move to a lowland cabin. One that floods. Maybe his mate gets stuck on laundry detail with me and the other lone females, and then no one brings their pups over to play with hers anymore.”

Her anger grows hotter as she speaks. It’s surging, insistent.

“I’m not busting a fighter down to the maintenance crew because he loses one sparring match.”

“No, not one. But how many? Does he know?”

I don’t know. This is not how I planned this conversation to go.

Shit. I didn’t really plan this at all, did I?

“When we win, we eat. There has to be an incentive for hard work. Right?” That’s obvious, isn’t it?

“When we win,” she says, drawing out each word. “We eat. That’s not incentive enough?”

I huff a sigh. I want to tap the mat. She only sees things from her perspective. Sure, the reality of rank is harsh. But without discipline, without direction and motivation, you get Declan Kelly’s pack—the strong feed, and the weak are food.

She should inherently understand this.

And I can hear myself explaining it, and pissing her off even more. That’s not what I want.

I want my mate to respect me.

To stop fighting me, for fuck’s sake.

I guess there’s one way to make that happen. I can concede. My lips curl. Oh, yeah. I don’t think my scrappy mate would know what to do with a win.

I flash her a wide smile, and then I do something I’ve never done before.

I bare my throat.

Behind me, the grunts and idle conversation stop.

“What are you doing?” Una hisses under her breath.

I don’t answer. She knows.

“Get up.” She squirms in her chair, her gaze darting over my shoulder. “They’re staring.”

I bend my neck a little further. I’ve only ever done this before in nightmares when I was a pup. Feels strange.

It’s not humiliating, though. In fact, my cock is hard as hell.

“Una,” I say gently. I can hear her heartbeat. It’s tripping double time.

Her fingers reach out, tentative, trembling. She touches the place where my neck and shoulder meet, the place where—on her—my bite mark brands her smooth skin. My balls swell.

“You’re moon mad,” she whispers.

I twist to drop a kiss on the palm of the hand that touches me. “Want to go back to your nest?” I raise an eyebrow and wink.

She huffs and snatches her hand back to her lap. I laugh and hop to my feet. “That’s a ‘later’?”

“That’s a ‘no.’”

“Okay. Later.” I wink again just so the pink on her cheeks blossoms bigger. My mate is so beautiful. So delicate, and so ornery.

I stride off to the ring, chuckling.

“Who’s first?” I’m gonna drop every male in this gym to the mat in five seconds flat, settle their wolves, and then we can proceed with training.

It’s a bit embarrassing that I’m gonna do it with a huge hard on, but at least it’ll make it clear who’s highest ranked in this pack.

It’s the female stewing in the corner who can’t help but watch as I dispatch five males, including my beta, in quick succession in tented frickin’ pants.

She owns me, and that makes her the most powerful wolf in the five packs.

And I don’t think she has a clue.

I do convince Una to go back to our cabin before dinner, but she won’t get in her nest. She insists on sitting on the sofa like a guest.

It’s probably for the best. Her heat seems to have eased for the time being, and I need to feed her as much as possible before it comes on in full. It’s true that I don’t know much about a female’s heat, but I do know some. Males brag about how much weight their females lose in three or four days. Sometimes as much as ten or fifteen pounds.

Una’s healthy. She’s got decent padding on her thighs and belly, but because of her leg, she doesn’t have the best musculature. Muscle burns first, and I don’t want her to lose more than necessary.

She’d rip my head off if she knew what I was thinking. She’s real private. When she pisses, she turns on the sink so I can’t hear.

She wasn’t shy last night. She flung her arms wide and arched her back like pleasure was her due as a goddess on earth.

I can’t wait to watch her come on my cock. Fill her up until my seed drips from her sweet pink pussy. Put my pups in her belly.

Rut is riding me, but I’m not so weak a male that I’m gonna give into it. It helped beating the shit out of B-roster. It’s also good that Una isn’t like Haisley or Rowan—she doesn’t look for male attention. If she did, this pack would be in a heap of trouble.

Fate picked well for me.

She’s got that leg, though, and that small ass wolf. It’s not a problem. She’s never gonna not have protection from this moment on. Still.

“Stand up.”

She blinks at me.

“Put the book down and stand up.” We’ve got some time before dinner. I want to see how bad the leg really is.

“Why?”

“I want to check out your leg.”

She flushes and tucks the book to her chest. “No.”

“Come on.” I’m not the kind that’s good at convincing people. I’m more of a doer. I cross the room and grab the book, setting it open and upside down on the end table so she doesn’t lose her place. I don’t know where she found it. I honestly didn’t know I had any. I asked why she wasn’t on her phone, and she said she doesn’t have unlimited data.

Who doesn’t have unlimited data? I’ve gotta put that on the list of shit to fix. I don’t need to be up in the middle of the night worrying that lone females are gonna run out of minutes while they’re off sneaking into town.

I draw Una to the center of the room and kneel, keeping a hold of her hands so she can’t scurry away. She’s got on a long flowy skirt like the crone wears and no shoes. Her top is loose around the neck so I can see my bite. When she blushes, it darkens. I like that.

“What are you doing?” Una bats at my hands as I raise her skirt.

“Hold these.” I shove it into her arms and sit back on my heels. She’s got her weight on the good leg, propping herself up on the ball of the other foot. The scars are awful. I skim my fingers over them as gently as I can. She sucks in a breath. “Do they hurt?”

“The scars? No.”

“But the leg hurts.” You can tell. If she’s been standing or walking awhile, her face gets real serious and strained.

“Sometimes.”

“Does it hurt now?”

“A little.”

“Where?”

She huffs a small sigh. “My hip. My thigh. My knee. My calf. The joints are the worst, but sometimes, the bones ache.”

“Why didn’t it heal?”

“Abertha thinks because it was so bad, and it got infected right away, it just couldn’t. Not all the way.”

I want to kill Thomas Fane all over again.

Or I want to have been the one to kill him. Beat him to death with his own thigh bone.

Una half-steps backward, and I realize my wolf is growling. I cup her knee, stroke up, and try to give her a reassuring smile. “Don’t mind him.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“He’s harmless.”

She barks a laugh. “Now that’s a lie.”

I grin. It is.

“Okay, let’s get started.” I rest my hand on the outside of her knee. “Lift your leg to the side. I’m gonna apply pressure. Press against my hand as hard as you can.”

“Why?”

“I wanna see what this leg can do. Then we’ll see what we can do to make it stronger.”

She’s quiet for a second. I look up. There’s pain in her eyes, and it’s echoed in our bond. I scrub my chest. Shit. I thought since she’s so active, she could take a little more.

I’m about to sit her back down when she says, “It’s not going to get any better.” She lifts her wobbling chin. “You just have to accept it.”

I move my hand, testing the muscle. It’s definitely underdeveloped, but it’s not nothing. “I disagree. You’ve got a lot to work with here.”

“I’m never going to win an alpha challenge, if that’s what you’re thinking. Even if my leg got better, my wolf’s small.”

I let my hands slide down the back of her calves and circle her delicate ankles. She’s so damn lovely, still and somber, her brown hair in that neat braid.

“You don’t need to win an alpha challenge. An alpha belongs to you.” She gazes down at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, and I’d do anything—kill anything—for her to know I speak the truth. But I can’t, so I change the subject. “I just want you to get a little faster is all. I can’t walk as slow as you for the rest of my life. It’s either you get faster, or we get you one of those human Segways.”

“That’s a really dickish thing to say.” She doesn’t smell like hurt anymore, though. She considers me a second, and then she grabs my hand, presses it against her knee, and steadies herself on my shoulder as she lifts her leg. “But I wouldn’t turn down a Segway.”

She smiles, and it’s small and cranky, but it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I work her out for another hour, testing her strength and range of motion and flexibility, and she lets me, and I’m grateful for it, but what I really want is another one of her tight, grumpy smiles.

An hour or so before dinner, Una excuses herself to the bathroom, and when she comes back, she grabs my hoodie from the hook by the door. She wore it to the gym earlier. I don’t think it’s registering with her that she’s kind of claimed it, and I’m not bringing it up.

“Where are you going?” I shove the balance disc we’d been working with back in the corner.

“The lodge. It’s time to help Noreen get dinner together.”

“You don’t do that anymore.”

She rolls her eyes and puts her hand on the doorknob.

My wolf growls.

“Stop that,” she snaps.

My wolf immediately offers a conciliatory whine. Sweet Fate. This is going to get out of hand.

I seize the bond, holding her in place while I stalk across the room. I crowd her, and she shrinks against the door. She smells like petulance and arousal, and I can tell her leg aches from the exercises. She didn’t eat much when I fed her earlier. I bet she’s hangry, too.

“Do you want a protein bar?”

She ignores the question, rubbing her temple like I’m not making sense, and then she asks, “What’s your problem with me serving tables?”

“It’s beneath you.”

“But not beneath Mari? Or Annie? Or Kennedy?” She places her palms on my chest, and she shoves once, but when she can’t budge me, she doesn’t try again. Or move her hands. She absently kneads my T-shirt between her fingers. I don’t think she’s even aware of it. She’s intent on her argument. “Is it beneath Noreen to cook?”

“Someone has to cook.”

“But no one has to serve.”

I arch an eyebrow.

She arches one back. “Ever heard of a buffet?”

I grin. “You think we should serve ourselves?”

“Why not?”

Excellent point. I drop to my knees.

“What are you doing?” she squeaks.

She knows. I can scent it when her pussy floods with cream. I hoist her up, bunching her skirt to her waist, settling her legs over my shoulders, massaging and stretching those aching muscles. We can kill two birds with one stone.

She wriggles, but with the door at her back and my head delving between her thighs, she’s pinned.

She’s not trying very hard to get loose. She’s panting, her fingers plunging into my hair. I lower my fangs and rip the crotch of her panties. She moans, pushing her slick folds into my face. I have to quickly close my lips so I don’t nick her with my teeth.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmurs as she tugs my hair. I lick her sweet, puffy seam, savoring the explosion of flavor on my tongue. Her thighs squeeze, compressing my ears to my head. I have to readjust so I can hold her open and keep her still. I need to hear her moans.

Before we leave this cabin, go around other males, she needs to know who she belongs to.

She’s gonna say my name. She’s gonna scream it, and I’m gonna walk into the lodge with her cream drying on my face.

“I’m mad at you,” she gasps. “We’re having an argument.”

I spear her wet hole with my tongue, teasing her clit with the finger parting her folds. “That,” she gasps. “There. Right there.”

I go harder, flatten my tongue and lick in between flicks. She bucks as hard as she can, but she’s stuck between the door and my mouth. I suck her clit while I grip her juicy ass, spreading those cheeks, opening everything to me.

Her hips rock harder. I’m straining my jeans, and I want more than anything to slide down my zipper and jam her onto my aching cock, spurt my seed into her until her belly bulges.

It’s beyond desire. It’s necessity. My eyes burn with the effort of holding back, denying myself the soft, sweet, slippery warmth I crave more than air or meat or a wild run under a full moon.

But I can’t. I can’t.

If I take her now, I’ll lose her a minute later. My bond to her is steel. Hers is a tender shoot.

She has to come to me.

I know it in my bones.

So I devour her pussy like a starving man, explore every crease, every crevice. Her thighs quiver, and she pulls my hair as she rides my face.

“This doesn’t solve anything,” she moans.

Like hell. It fixes everything. I adjust my grip, seek out her puckered back hole with my middle finger. I’ve never tried this before. I move slow, giving her plenty of time to clench and shift away. She doesn’t. She sucks in a breath, and I press against the tight ring. She squirms, mewling, panting.

I don’t want to hurt her.

I swirl my tongue around her stiff nub, massaging her wet hole with my thumb, smearing her cream over her plump lips.

She’s about to explode. Her abs are tight, and she’s kicking my back with her heels like she’s spurring me on.

I love her abandon.

She’s not shy now. Not at all. She’s wild for me. Only me. And her heat isn’t riding her. This is all my doing, no assist from nature.

I press further into the tight muscle grasping my finger, try to be gentle and try not to come in my pants as I feel her inside, tight and hot and clenching. She shrieks, “Oh, oh, oh!”

And then she’s jerking, spasming, and she hollers, “Killian!”

I spurt in my jeans, a massive gush, hot and sticky.

She blinks. Her eyes clear. And narrow.

Shit.

I sink immediately to my ass, wrap my arms around her and tuck her to my chest. Now is when she freaks out. Withdraws back behind that serious, reserved, humble expression that I realize more and more is a straight out lie.

Not now. I nibble my bite mark, and she shivers. “You belong to me, shy girl. You know that right?”

She tenses and struggles to put space between us. I’ll let her. In a second. Once my wolf collects himself.

“I’m my own person,” she mumbles into my T-shirt.

“I belong to you. Wolf and man.” She’s got to know, but it can’t hurt to say out loud. Females need words. Even I know that.

“So you say now.” She heaves at my pecs, and I let her get away. She lands on her butt, legs sprawled. “Maybe I don’t want you.”

I arch an eyebrow. Her thighs are chafed red from my five o’clock shadow. She huffs at me and tugs her skirt back down.

I don’t let myself crack a smile. Instead, I give her a wink, hop to my feet, and go wash my hands in the kitchen.

I stalk the bond and listen as she scurries to the bathroom and then rummages around in the bedroom. She’s probably looking for fresh panties. I ruined the pair she’d been wearing for good with my fangs, but she’d made a nice mess of them before we got to that part. They’re laying in the foyer. I scoop them up before she comes back and gets all embarrassed. I like her better feisty than bashful.

Although making her blush does make me hard.

I head after her, stopping in the bathroom to clean up. Never came in my jeans before. Can’t say I’m a fan. It’s undignified as hell, and it makes the denim chafe.

I’m more than a little grateful that Una’s too busy fussing at me to notice the scent of seed.

I grab fresh pants from the dryer, and then I go see what’s keeping her. She’s still in the bedroom. There’s an odd sensation coming through the bond. A wistfulness. Longing. But not for me.

Her feelings for me are bold. This is a mild aching.

I pause at the door, careful to step heavy enough that she hears me coming. I don’t know if she can track me through the bond like I can. Or if she bothers.

She’s standing beside the unmade bed, fingering the Amish quilt. It’s a knot pattern, soft and faded from washing. It was my grandmother’s. My mother’s mother. I’ve got no living kin on my father’s side. Declan Kelly wandered into Quarry Pack territory one inauspicious day, killed the old alpha, and ruled with an iron fist until he keeled over with a chicken bone stuck in his throat, and not a soul moved to help him.

Not my mother. Not me.

Everything I’ve done since has been to ensure that history won’t repeat itself. Every male in Quarry Pack can fight. And every outcast from the five packs knows better than to try to find their fortune here.

It’s not been an easy path, but our females and pups are safe.

I lean against the doorframe. Una must know I’m here, but she doesn’t turn her head. She’s braided her hair again and changed into a flowing lavender dress. She’s beautiful and calm, but her eyes are distant. Sad.

Are our females and pups happy?

I’ve never wondered before. I assumed. No one’s getting beat. No one’s hungry.

If they weren’t content, would anyone tell me? Would anyone think I’d even care to know?

“What are you doing?” I ask Una because it’s easier than following that train of thought.

“This is a lovely quilt.”

“It was my grandmother’s.”

“She made it?”

“No. She wasn’t the type to sew. She must have bought it.”

“It’s human-made?”

“Yeah.”

“Your grandmother traded with humans?”

“She must have.”

Una raises her eyes to me. Her usual defensiveness is gone. There’s a vulnerability there now which scares me shitless. This female can be hurt. I can hurt her again. I can lose everything in this second, and I am not equal to the moment. At the end of the day, I’m nothing but a brawler. All fists and fangs.

None of those will do me any good here, with my mate considering her nest, her raw heart on her sleeve.

“Why can’t we, then?” She adjusts the quilt so it covers the pillows she slept on last night.

My wolf’s ‘no’ is loud enough it sounds in my throat. She startles, her fingers flying to her side. I stay still. Shove my hands in my pockets.

The picture of that smarmy human with the beard leering at her flashes in my brain. And her all alone, clutching that jar of mushrooms to her chest like it was treasure. It wouldn’t take a rogue wolf to carry her off. Any idiot human could manage it if he promised her whatever it is she’s looking for.

What is it that she wants?

“I’ll pay for your phone. If you want to buy the others games or whatever, you can.”

She straightens her spine. “I don’t want your money.”

“Then why do you want to sell shit to the humans?”

“I want my money.”

“We’re pack. There’s no mine. No yours.” Every pup understands this. Wolves aren’t human. We rise and fall together.

She snorts. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Everything I have is yours.” It’s the truest thing I know.

She takes a deep breath and tries again. “I don’t want your stuff. I want mine.”

“You’re happy enough with my stuff in your nest.” It feels like a solid point, and I know when it lands, that I shot myself in the foot.

Her eyes turn shiny, but she doesn’t cry. She lifts her chin and steps away from the bed. “It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Una—”

“You don’t understand, and you don’t want to.” She shrugs. “I guess it is what it is.”

She sails past me, dragging her bad leg with the offended dignity of a queen. I’m an asshole, and I’m not really sure why.

“We can go to dinner now,” she says over her shoulder. “I’ll sit wherever you want. Alpha.”

“Una.” I follow her. “You’re being bitchy.”

“Sorry, Alpha.”

I speed up to open the door for her. She shuffles past me, chin high. I lift her by the waist and carry her down the stairs while she holds herself as rigid as a board.

“Damn it, Una. It’s not safe for you alone in town. Let alone Mari and Annie. How many wins do you have between you?”

The answer is none. Females fight rarely, and then usually only those contending for alpha rank. Cheryl won her position more through lack of interest than prowess.

“We sell honey and herbs. It’s not fight club. It’s a farmer’s market.”

“You’re not that naïve. You can’t be.”

She heads down the path toward the commons, and I shorten my stride to keep pace with her. She’s hustling a little more than usual, but the speed is still painfully slow. At least by the time we get to the lodge, dinner will be served, and our original point of disagreement will be moot.

I’m grouchy, starving, and even though I know she’s trying to pick up the pace, we’re basically taking one step at a time like a bride toward the altar.

And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. My heart soars, and Una looks over at me. Her brow wrinkles. She felt that through the bond.

I offer her a wry grin.

“What are you so happy about?” she grumbles.

“Smells like venison tonight.” The rich, gamey scent is in the air.

We both know I’m lying, and she grunts, but she lets it be. We’re approaching the lodge now. There’s more than the usual number of males hanging around on the front porch. We’re a good half hour late. Everyone should be digging in right about now.

It’s not until I escort Una through the front doors that I realize I’ve thrown a wrench in the works. Cheryl’s standing by the dais, arms folded, glaring down her nose. No one’s been served.

Annie, Mari, and Kennedy are standing at the kitchen door, laden trays propped on their hips, looking tired and pissed. There’s a general grumbling and more than the usual number of squalling babies.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Una looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Cheryl doesn’t let us serve until you’re here.”

“No?” I hadn’t noticed. Of course, I’m rarely late for a meal.

And then inspiration strikes. Didn’t my mate say something about a buffet? Instead of heading for the dais, I make my way toward the kitchen.

The table furthest back is a bunch of pre-shift males. I moved them back here the first day I became alpha. They eat like animals.

“Clear off.” I snap and point to another far corner. They scramble, leaving a half dozen gum wrappers and a weird puddle. I grab the slowest one by the back of his shirt. “Go get a bucket. Wipe down this table. You have sixty seconds.”

I let my wolf growl his displeasure. The pup gets it done in forty-five.

Then I take the tray from Mari. “Come on.” I nod for Annie and Kennedy to follow.

I unload the plates on the table, buffet-style, grabbing the best-looking cuts of meat on my way back up front.

“Help yourselves.” I gesture to the overflowing table. “Elders first. Then pups and females. Males last. Like you’re getting on a life raft.”

The grumbling gets louder, some growls thrown in. My wolf alerts, his fur prickling up my spine. He’s not mad. He’s ready for a challenge that he can actually win. He’s on a solid losing streak with Una Hayes.

I soothe him with the promise of venison and our mate. She’s still standing in the entrance, baffled and blushing as she worries the tip of her braid.

The elders are lining up with their plates, perfectly content with the new set up.

I grin at my mate, and I restrain myself from asking if she’s happy now. Instead, I gesture her toward my accustomed place in front of the fireplace.

Her gaze darts to the back of the room, but her roommates have disappeared into the kitchen. I duck aside for a second and tell Tye to keep an eye on the back exit. Make sure none of our lone females use their new free time to run off and do shit that gives me ulcers.

Una makes her way to the dais. She’s self-conscious. Her leg’s dragging pretty badly at this point.

At the dais, I lift her. There’s only one folding chair. Cheryl’s off overseeing the new buffet, and everyone else is either bitching or staring at us like we’re the floor show.

I guide Una to sit. She does, all stiff and twitchy. I snap at the B-roster table, and they all surge to their feet. Gael’s the fastest, even though he’s with A-roster. He turns, snatches Finn’s chair from under his ass, and hands it to Jimmy to bring over.

I knew I liked that kid.

I sink down, smirking, and tear a hunk of meat off a backstrap filet. It’s good. Smoky.

I rip off another bite and hold it up to Una’s mouth. She makes me wait a few seconds before she goes for it with her fingers. I snatch it back.

“Open up.”

“You’re not feeding me.”

I give the dish in my lap a meaningful look. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re not putting it in my mouth.”

I don’t smirk, but my dick rises hard and sudden. I have to steady the plate.

“You wanted a buffet. You got a buffet.” I wave at the anarchy below us.

A-roster has cut the line. A scuffle has broken out between two pups. Cheryl’s given up. She’s commandeered a table and filled it with a few purloined plates. Her usual court is gathered around, whispering to each other, glowering with well-fed disapproval at the general disorder.

“It’s not a buffet.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what is it?”

“You said it yourself. A sinking ship.”

I bark a laugh. She scowls. I finish the filet and lick my fingers. She can’t tear her eyes away. Her throat swells gently as she swallows.

A whiff of her arousal teases my senses.

I’m suddenly twice as hungry as I was before I ate.

A few male heads turn from their food, noses twitching. Oh, hell, no. Not for them.

My wolf lunges. Somehow, Una manages to grab the plate of venison as he leaps through the air, snarling and snapping, landing hard enough to rattle the empty chairs. He bares his fangs, pacing the open floor, forcing the males to back their tables further away and scoot their chairs.

He’s like a rabid sentry, patrolling a line, getting up in the faces of random males whose necks aren’t bent quite far enough for his satisfaction. I should rein him in. This is our pack. They are no threat to me. And we’re wolves. There’s no such thing as a private scent.

And I am inordinately proud of the proof of Una’s impending heat. It marks her as mine.

And it’s not like Una’s trying to lure a male. Or any would have a chance of getting within twenty feet of her. My wolf has made damn sure of that.

I need to put him back on the chain. I’m stressing the pack, upending the natural order, and that way inevitably leads to a challenge.

I want one. I want an enemy I can slay. The wolf and I both. But it would cause havoc when I need shit calm to focus on Una.

And my pack is showing their necks as they go about chowing down. I’m out of control, and they’re unsurprised. Mildly put out by the inconvenience but unfazed. Am I so unreasonable that this is par for the course?

I release one last howl for good measure and pad back to my mate. She’s feeding herself. She’s almost cleaned the plate. She grins at me. There’s a smudge of grease at the very corner of her mouth. I shift and as I go to sit, I grip her neck and lick her clean. Then I plop my bare ass on the cold metal and hold out my hand. Gael tosses me a pair of shorts from halfway across the room. Dude has excellent aim, too.

Thank Fate he’s wearing boxers.

“You full?” I ask.

Una lifts a delicate shoulder, and her neckline falls so my bite peeks out. A growl vibrates in my chest. It isn’t hunger. Not the kind that can be satisfied here.

I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. My cock aches, my balls throb, and there’s a constant urge inside me—drag her closer, bite her again so everyone sees, take her back to her nest.

Is this rut? I thought I was immune. I’ve never had a problem resisting temptation before. I’m a flip-shifter. I have full control over my physical body. I operate on a higher level. The good of the pack. The safety of our future.

Oh, I am a prideful fool.

My palms are damp, my face is flushed, and I’m hanging on by a thread.

If it comes down to it, I will beg this female. I will give her anything she wants. I am weak for her, and I don’t give a damn.

I will go fetch her another plate of venison.

“Want more?” My voice is husky. There’s a lot of the wolf in it.

She clenches her thighs, her dress clinging to her lush curves. She shakes her head no. “I’m good.”

Her eyes are downcast. The sweet, warm smell of her grows stronger. Intoxicating. She flutters the neckline of her dress, cooling her flushed chest, drawing my eye to the pattern of my fangs in her rosy flesh. Is her heat back?

I don’t think so. She’s perspiring, but her eyes are clear. She’s watching the pack. She seems nervous. Jumpy.

Makes me jumpy.

And then—so gradually that it takes a few seconds to register—a hush falls. Lochlan has pushed his chair back, and he’s standing at the B-roster table, chest puffed. Finn and Eamon are standing at his back, in formation.

My wolf growls low in anticipation. A challenge. My fangs descend. I lick the tip of an incisor. My wolf basks in the collective gulp of our packmates.

I will very much enjoy finishing off Lochlan Byrne.

But it’s not Lochlan who speaks. He glowers while Eamon strides forward to the middle of the open floor.

“Alpha,” he calls. “A word.”

My mouth waters.

Eamon’s hair might be gray, and his hands, especially, are mottled with age spots, but he hasn’t begun the rapid decline that marks the end of a shifter’s life. He still has bulk, and his stoop doesn’t slow his gait.

He hunts more than fights these days, but he still puts in hours at the gym, usually late at night with Lochlan and his crew. Telling them stories about the good old days when he was beta to my father and folks knew their place.

I have his number. He can’t win against me in a fight, so his challenge has to be more insidious. I know he’s been poisoning the well, gathering the disaffected. It’ll get him nowhere. All the males in this pack banded together can’t beat me.

But it will be sweet to remind them.

I wave my hand at him to speak.

The elders perk up and hush each other. He is the greatest of their generation. They put up with Dermot as a mouthpiece, but Dermot’s loyalties are with me at the end of the day, not them. Eamon is their champion. The last vestige of their waning strength. My father’s male.

He clears his throat. “You’ve taken a mate.”

Una tenses. I nod. “You know this.”

“You have our congratulations. I am sure I speak for the pack when I wish you many, healthy sons.”

Una’s teeth squeak when they grind. I incline my head, acknowledging his words. And I note what he does not say. He did not wish Una well, nor bend his neck to her in deference.

That was a mistake.

And this farce of congratulation is not why Eamon has stepped forward.

“Speak your piece,” I tell him. Generally, my lieutenants will corner me in private to bitch so as not to risk rank. I like this new direct approach. I can shut down whatever nonsense this is in public. Once and done.

“We had visitors this afternoon. Human enforcers. From the town.”

My gaze flies to Tye. His expression is contained, but his temple tics. He didn’t know either. I shift forward in my chair. Well, this is some bullshit. Since when does my pack keep secrets from me?

Una shifts in her chair. Well, I guess some have all along.

“And?” I keep my gaze on Eamon, but I clock Lochlan in my periphery. He’s the fool with ambitions. The mutt who chases the car and wouldn’t know what to do if he caught it.

“They came to offer a friendly warning. Apparently, you assaulted a human at their market?” There are gasps.

Eamon can hardly mask how much he’s getting off on calling out the alpha.

I shrug. My wolf pushes forward. He wants out. He knows he can make quick work of this half-assed challenge. An image flashes in my brain, three mangled, bloody bodies piled in front of Una. A tribute.

She wouldn’t like it.

Her wolf would, but she wouldn’t.

I sigh. “And?” I prompt Eamon when he doesn’t go on.

“Your mate left pack territory without protection.” Murmurs erupt around the room. Nuala shakes her white head. Yeah, I don’t like it either.

“We were told she has been doing this for some time. And on occasion, the other lone females have, as well.”

The murmuring increases in volume. Gazes fly to the erstwhile buffet table where Mari and Annie had been clearing dishes. Now they’re huddled together, frozen. Scared.

Unacceptable.

I clear my throat, drawing attention back to me. “What’s your point?”

“And your mate is permitted a phone.”

I wouldn’t use the word “permitted,” but yeah, I suppose so. I nod.

All the females burst into stage whispers. Eamon has to raise his hand for silence.

“And we’re to take it that any female may do likewise? Gallivant around the human town, bury her nose in a phone, ignore her young, get seduced away from her mate and her duties to the pack by the cesspool of the human internet?” His voice gathers volume until it booms on the last word.

The females collectively lean forward with bated breath.

Una has become very still beside me. She is waiting for me to disappoint her. The bitterness taints our bond.

I lean forward and steeple my fingers. It would be so much easier to beat some ass. I still might.

The end goal is so clear. Protect the females and young. But the way there is so damn muddy.

I’m not stupid. I know that just because you forbid a thing does not mean it is not done. It means it’s done in secret. I’ve been content to tell myself the lone females only indulged in a little wine, a little smoke. The young only sneak off to the border of our territory to steal a bone and win a dare. Elders only cuff females and young every once in a while, and not too hard. Not like they used to.

Nothing’s perfect. But it’s better. I’ve made it so.

And then, as they have been all day, a memory flashes to the forefront of my mind. The bed of a truck, metal slick with blood. Una, slight and pale as death, her brown hair soaked a rust red. My mother and the crone at the tailgate.

“Let us have her now.” The crone beckons with her hand.

I bare my fangs and crouch lower.

My mother leans as close as she can, laying a slender hand on my massive paw. “You can’t protect her like this. You need to trust us. We know what to do.”

I remember now. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Letting the females take my mate away.

And how I knew then what I needed to do. How I could make sure no one ever hurt her again.

I had to change everything.

They took her, and I collapsed, and there are no other memories until I woke up weeks later. My father told me I’d caught a terrible fever after shifting younger than any male in recorded history, and I’d beat it because I was the strongest of my generation, destined for greatness.

And I figured then it was good I was the strongest because it was gonna take some big balls and righteous ass-kicking to fix this backwards pack.

I never questioned why I needed to do it. It seemed obvious. The pack was fucked up.

This is fucked up.

Why am I overthinking? This is a challenge. I know what to do with them.

I stand. Eamon shuffles almost imperceptibly back on his heels. I grin.

And then I look down at my mate. Her eyes are eating up her face, her wolf close to the surface, ready to follow me into battle. My wolf grumbles. He’s insulted that she thinks he needs help.

I don’t mind. She’s not gonna lift a finger, but the way she’s subtly measuring the distance between her and Eamon makes me hard. And weirdly warm in my chest.

I need to teach her to fight. Her wolf’s obviously the sort that’s gonna keep getting her in trouble.

“What do you say, mate?” I ask her. “Can any female go gallivanting around town?”

Her eyes spark. She draws herself up. “Yes. If they want to.”

I expect a few shouts and a lot of pearl clutching, but it’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

“But what about outcast wolves? Humans with bad intentions?”

She shifts a little in her seat, but she doesn’t lower her head an inch. “We can go in partners. Or with a male if he’s free. But we shouldn’t have to ask permission.”

“Seems fair.”

“It is fair.”

“And any female can have a phone?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. And then she casts Eamon a black look. “And mothers are not going to neglect their young, and I think that’s pretty rich coming from a male when everyone knows the fathers in this pack don’t lift a finger to help until their sons are old enough to go into the ring.” She folds her arms.

At the elder tables, wizened faces turn bright red.

Eamon coughs. “All due respect, but Una Hayes ain’t my alpha,” he says.

I crack my neck. This is not going to be my proudest moment—handing an old wolf his ass in front of the whole pack—but I’m going to enjoy it all the same.

I crack my neck again, twisting to the other side.

And then, a murmuring from the A-roster table erupts and a chair screeches across the linoleum. There is a collective gasp. I fully expect to see Alfie or maybe that lost pup Fallon throwing his lot in with the opposition, but it’s a female. Haisley.

I haven’t spoken to her—or thought about her—since my wolf dumped her from our lap when he leapt to attack Gael. She’s not looking at me. She’s got Una in her sights.

My wolf snarls, and it’s all I can do to keep him down, but this needs to play out.

I search for Cheryl, and she’s hanging back by the elder table, nose in the air. So Haisley has the alpha female’s blessing for whatever’s about to go down. Noted.

Beside me, Una stiffens. I ball my fist so I don’t reach for her, but I focus on the bond, send her every reassurance I can. She is the strongest wolf here. I’ve got her back. No matter what.

She waits while Haisley struts forward to stand in the middle of the open floor. Haisley’s dressed for her moment, high-heeled black boots, tight red top, and tighter jeans. She comes to a halt, smiles, and sucks her front teeth like she’s checking for lipstick.

There’s simmering rage coming through the bond. The wolf is loud in the mix.

Tell her to sit her ass down, I send through the link, but I don’t think it works that way. It’s not like text messaging.

Una ignores me, tracking Haisley’s every move. The flip of her poofy blonde hair. The hip cock. The room is silent except for the occasional cough.

Finally, Haisley speaks. “I have a question, Alpha.” She’s looking at Una though, a smirk playing on her red stained lips.

“Go.”

“I was attacked—unprovoked and unchallenged—by Una Hayes.”

She pauses. I don’t know for what. We all saw it. I grunt to move shit along.

“I won. By our laws, I rank. And I demand to be heard.”

Everybody’s fucking listening. I gesture for her to cut to the chase.

“I say females must not be allowed to risk our males’ lives for foolish escapades off territory. Last Pack will stop at nothing to restore their numbers. They don’t care if a female is mated. They just want bodies. Mark my words, they will attack, the human authorities will come down on us, and there will be war among the packs. And for what? What is so hard about the lot of a lone female with no pups to tend and everything provided for them?”

That’s an interesting complaint from a mated female with no pups and everything provided for her.

There is some rumbling from the younger females at the tables toward the back.

“Una Hayes—who has never won a challenge—wants to destroy our traditions and put our males in danger—put our very territory in danger—and for what? Her fucking hobby?”

This sounds nothing like Haisley. I’ve never heard anything from her mouth but purring and flattery. These are Eamon’s words.

I glance down and over. Una’s maintaining eye contact with Haisley, and her stance is solid. She’s clearly pissed, but she’s also uncertain. I can feel it all—including her wolf’s instinctive fear of an adversary who bested her. It pains me, and riles the hell out of my wolf, but I hold course.

Folks don’t fully understand this quite yet—Una doesn’t either—but my mate is the most powerful wolf here now. She can make her own calls.

And then Haisley adds, as if it’s an afterthought and not an obvious incitement, “Maybe the lone females need to spend a night back in the basement so they can remember to be thankful for what this pack allows them.”

The room was quiet, but now it’s absolutely silent. Not even the creak of a bench. You can hear the lights hum.

Una’s eyes seem wider until I realize the brown has changed. It’s a mellow cognac now, shining and alive. It’s her wolf.

She steps forward. “You shut your mouth.”

Haisley draws herself up and smirks. “Or what?” Now that sounds like her.

“I’ll shut it for you.”

The entire pack looks at me. They know. Even Cheryl’s starting to look green around the gills.

Haisley doesn’t give an inch. Whoever’s put her up to this has done a thorough job of messing with her head. Her instincts should be screaming, but instead, she laughs. “Don’t you remember my fangs in your neck, bitch? That’s what’s wrong with you and all your misfit friends up in the reject cabin. You think ‘cause Alpha pities you that you’re safe? Strength rules in Quarry Pack, and everyone knows your wolf is a sad, scrawny loser.”

There’s the sound of a hundred simultaneous drawn in breaths.

Haisley glances over to her brother, proud and high on her own audacity. There’s a shine in her eyes. I wouldn’t doubt but that she’s high on something else, too. I catch Cheryl’s attention and nod for her to come get her girl.

“He’s gonna breed you and leave you, and then you’re gonna be back on the bottom with Toddlers and Tiaras, weepy Annie, and the freak who doesn’t even know if she’s a boy or a girl.” Haisley jerks her thumb over her shoulder toward the kitchen door where Mari, Annie, and Kennedy are gathered.

Una snarls from the back of her throat, a clear warning, and I’m just about to step in when everything happens at once.

Una tugs the bond so hard I can feel it in my breastbone. Come on.

“I told you to shut your mouth. Now you’re gonna lose your teeth.” The words are garbled by Una’s lengthening fangs, but we can all make them out. The pack edges backwards, riveted. Dams hiss at pups to back up.

There’s another yank at the bond like I got a goddamn leash attached to my solar plexus. Come, mate. We attack.

I can’t stop the stupid grin. Good thing Una’s focused one hundred percent on Haisley. “Alpha doesn’t pity me. Alpha belongs to me.”

Hell, yeah, I do.

As Una’s body breaks, I become the wolf, and howl the truth to the rafters. Finally, the insolence in Haisley’s eyes dims, and her gaze darts around the room. Cheryl’s waving wildly, but Eamon and Lochlan are still standing, unbowed, so she hesitates.

Big mistake.

I bolt for Haisley. Females scream. Haisley abandons her skin to her wolf who promptly panics as she registers the enraged alpha leaping for her.

Haisley should thank freakin’ Fate that Una shifts slow as molasses, and I beat her wolf across the floor. If Haisley raised a paw to her, I’d rip her head from her spine.

As it is, all I have to do is snap my teeth, and Haisley’s wolf skitters backwards and crawls under a table, mewling for her mother. Cheryl has backed off to huddle beside her mate in human form. No help coming for those quarters.

Dermot’s looking uneasy, but he’s not gonna make a move. Not for a “strictly for heat” mate. Not against certain death.

It takes a second for Una’s wolf to catch up to me, and she nips my haunch as she passes, howling and growling and letting the whole damn lodge know that no one touches her girls, and Haisley better come out and fight us.

Haisley cowers closer to the floor, neck bent at a right angle. Eamon and Lochlan exchange glances, but they don’t move to help her. She’s a female. In their eyes, she doesn’t rank. Not enough to risk skin or fur. They want to live to plot another day.

Una’s wolf yaps louder, unsatisfied with Haisley’s submission. She wants a pound of flesh.

Drag her out so I can kill her.

I love how her wolf doesn’t hesitate to boss my ass around. She knows how it is. But you can’t always get what you want, especially when you’re in charge. The sooner Una and her bloodthirsty wolf learn that the better.

I bite the scruff of Una’s neck and draw her back to the dais. She growls in the back of her throat and stays stiff as she lets me pull her away. It’s freakin’ adorable.

I shift back to human first. Gael’s right there with another pair of shorts. This pair rides up my ass. I don’t look around. I don’t want to know what scrawny whelp he got ‘em off of.

Una’s wolf rumbles a little longer to make sure her point is taken, and then she plops on her rump and gazes up at me expectantly. I squat, my back to the room, so that no one will see my beautiful mate in her bare human skin.

I know we’re shifters, and it’s normal and everything, but if shit’s changing, maybe we all need to get more modest. Fit in better with the humans or whatever. I’ll figure out a justification. No one sees Una’s tits but me.

Finally, Una takes back her skin, and she’s flushed and breathless. Magnificent. Gael lays a sundress on my shoulder and scurries away. That one is smart. The fabric smells like an unmated, protected female. Not ideal but acceptable.

I help Una tug it over her head. Her braid’s undone, and her eyes are still flashing with temper.

“No one touches my girls,” she says.

I turn to direct my response to the pack. “No one touches the lone females.”

“Or threatens them.”

I nod in agreement.

She lowers her voice, and her brow furrows, like she’s working something out. “She wouldn’t fight me.”

“Nope.”

“Because your wolf would kill her.”

“Yeah. Without hesitation.”

I can see the wheels turning.

“No one in this pack will challenge me now, will they?”

I shake my head. “Nope. They know I’d rend them limb from limb.”

“So I’m the de facto alpha female?”

“You’re the alpha female.”

Through the bond, I sense the confusion and awe as she comes to understand. I lead her back to her chair. Cheryl rushes over to coax Haisley out from under the table.

A few low conversations start, but mostly, there is uneasiness in the hall. Eamon and his contingent have taken their seats. No one seems certain of what comes next.

Truth be told, neither am I.

Una absently rebraids her hair, frowning. I don’t like it. Maybe some more meat would perk her up. I snap and point, and Gael brings over a platter. Una ignores it.

After a long time, she finally speaks. “It is dangerous to go into town.”

“Alone, yes.” There’s no way around it. Last Pack and human traffickers are a real threat.

“I was putting the girls in danger.”

I don’t answer. I can’t soften the truth. I feel her guilt, and I wish I could soothe her, but living with your own shitty decisions comes with being alpha.

“But it isn’t fair to keep us locked up and beholden, either. It isn’t right.”

I grunt. Sometimes the choice isn’t between right and wrong. It’s between the bad and the less bad. She knows this. She’s been leading her own little pack for almost as long as I have.

She thinks for a time. Folks relax and get up for a second helping. Mari and Annie come around with tea and coffee. Voices rise.

“A pack’s strength is in numbers,” she finally says. “We’ll just have to go to town in a big group.”

She’s so serious, I fight my smile. It is the logical conclusion, and there’s gonna be no shortage of unmated males who’d like to take a morning off training to escort a bunch of females to market. I’m gonna have to come up with a rotation. Maybe an incentive system. Now my wheels are turning.

There’s still an unsettledness in the air. Maybe there’s no time like the present to show the folks that change can be good—and impress upon them all one last time that the highest-ranking wolf in any pack is that one who rules the alpha.

“If we were to go to town now, mate, what could we do there?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“You want to go to town now?”

I nod.

She searches my eyes, and I feel her nosing around the bond, trying to ferret out my intentions. “I don’t think much is open this late except maybe the bars?

“We’re not going to a bar. What else is there?”

She thinks. “Well, we could get ice cream.”

“Yeah?” Wolves aren’t that big on dairy.

“Mari and Annie love it.”

“It’s from cows right?” If it comes from a cow, it could be good.

“Yeah.”

“All right. Let’s go for ice cream in a big, safe group.” I help her to her feet and address the lodge. “Who else is coming to town for ice cream?”

The place erupts. Pups start begging. Half of the elders shake their heads, aghast, while the other half help each other up and grab their shawls and hats.

“Bring your girls,” I tell Una. I’m not leaving them alone with a frustrated Eamon and company. Lochlan’s sulking at the B-roster table, about to blow. He’s got a ‘roided up look about him.

Una smiles and waves her girls over. My wolf begins to relax. The pack is acting like itself again, each member worried about himself. Challenge averted. For now.

I have no doubt that this shit will come to a head soon, but not tonight. I wave Ivo over and tell him to tap Gael and a few other trusted wolves to stay back and keep an eye on Eamon’s faction. Then, I escort my mate toward the door. Her roommates trot along behind us, and as we go, the sound of scraping chairs and arguments rise behind us.

Tradition versus change.

The same-old, same-old versus ice cream.

Not for the first time, I marvel that such major shit hinges on such small things.

I park in the lot by the commissary, and it’s a short walk. I send Fallon for my keys. The packmates choosing adventure follow as we make our way slowly down the path toward the commons. The sun is setting, and the foothills are a solid black outline blending into the deep purple of the evening sky. It’s a beautiful night.

My tension isn’t set aside; it’s gone. My enemies’ machinations have no consequence when Una leaves her hand in mine after I grab it to help her navigate a root in the path.

Behind us, there are whispers tinged with excitement. I hear Conor and Jimmy. Dierdre and Liam. Nuala. Dermot. Old Noreen. Ashlynn. Tye, oddly enough. And behind them there’s a parade of other mated pairs with their young. The longer we walk, the freer their laughter, the louder their voices.

“What’s ice cream?” a small voice asks at the top of his lungs.

“Like thick milk,” an elder female replies.

“That’s gross.”

“Yes, but I’m not missing this for nothin’.”

Una hides a smile. Our bond pulses. “You’re really taking us for ice cream,” she says.

“Yup.”

“Eamon’s crew is just going to get angrier.”

“Don’t care. There’s a new order. They’ll fall in line or leave.”

She sighs, and worry threads through our connection. “You know I can’t win against any of them in a challenge.”

“No, I don’t know that.”

She huffs. “You won’t always be there.”

“Yes, I will.”

She rolls her eyes. She doubts me, but time will tell.

“Your little wolf might not be able to take all comers—yet—but you rule me. So, you rule the pack. Get used to it. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I rule you?” She scoffs, but she also adds the slightest sassy sway to her walk. Even in the dark, I don’t miss it.

“You lead me on a leash.” I slap that swaying ass. Can’t resist.

She yips, and she gives a good, salty yank on the bond. Much stronger than she has before.

The early rising stars have never been more beautiful, nor has the susurration of the night critters in the woods. Her lightness makes me drunk.

Yeah, I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be in charge. I want to feed my mate thick milk and then race her home through the fields, stopping by the old dens for her to ride my hard, aching cock.

Yeah. That’s the best damn plan I’ve ever had.

We reach my Jeep and Fallon’s waiting, leaning against the door, keys dangling. He grins. “There’s not enough room, Alpha. Can I get the keys to the Mustang and take the others?”

The others? I finally notice Annie, Mari, and Kennedy close behind us. Tye, too, his eyes flashing silver.

“I don’t think so, pup.” Tye puffs his chest.

Fallon’s wolf yips. Not big enough to growl, not smart enough to keep his muzzle shut. Tye’s wolf responds with a snarl.

These assholes are not ruining my night. I don’t know what’s going on, or what kind of mismatched pissing contest this is, but I do know we own vans.

“All of y’all go together. You can go in the Windstar, or you can take the Astro.” I gesture at our two fine, working tributes to the 90s. Liam is a truly talented mechanic.

I don’t waste time listening to them groan. I open the Jeep’s passenger door and lift Una in. Her smell is sharper than it was in the lodge. It’s a stimulant. I drag it in with the night air, and my muscles tingle.

We’re riding with the top down, or I’m not gonna make it all the way to Chapel Bell.

The moon is waning, and it hangs above the tree line like a giant glowing hook, set off by the last golden orange streaks of sunset.

Una lifts her face to the night sky. Her braid hangs down her back, thick and inviting. I grab it. She doesn’t startle. She glances over at me, lips curving, and then she closes her eyes again, letting the cool wind bathe her face.

There’s a fire raging inside me, a longing that crackles like embers.

She is the one. Fate saved her for me. To be mine alone. The reward for all the sacrifice, all the cracking of thick skulls and sleepless nights worrying over shit that seemed impossible to change.

Tonight, I get to know what it feels like to sink deep into my mate and seed her belly so she belongs to me like I already belong to her.

I don’t want fucking ice cream.

I want to pull over onto the shoulder. I want her to flee again, and this time, I won’t stalk her. I’ll catch her. Take her. And she’ll cry my name. Her wolf will howl it to the skies.

I adjust my cock before it punches through my zipper, grateful for the dark and Una’s distraction.

I might have never mounted a female before, but I’m no pup. My body is a finely-tuned instrument, and I can read a partner in the ring. Una won’t be dissatisfied.

These aren’t nerves. It’s anticipation.