If the brothers’ fight hadn’t been so disturbing, I would have laughed at the comical sight. A fully grown, middle-aged supernatural werewolf held two, just as big, fully grown wolves by the scruff of their necks, dangling them in the air as if they were wee pups, while the third looked like a docile canine trying to avoid a whipping.
But the rage shining from the alpha’s gaze smothered any amusement in me. Whatever was going on here, it was serious, and something told me it spanned decades. Because this had been far from a benign brotherly brawl, in which they could kiss and make up. Oh no, this went much deeper. It was obvious that Gavin and Cameron truly hated their younger brother.
“Shift back, now!” Paxton’s command reverberated through the block and shook my shield.
Ocean, not having magic to protect herself, bared her neck, her chin jutting up as a strained expression formed on her face. Seeing all of this reminded me of how incredibly fucked up werewolf packs could be. Everything in them revolved around dominance, some packs still living in the old ways of male-dominated hierarchies where women were lowly servants or prized wives to be bred.
Luckily, most of the packs in North America had progressed, embracing a more modern way of life that was focused on the inclusion of women and the lesser dominant wolves, but they all still operated on dominance to some degree, and since I was new to Kaillen’s non-pack, I wasn’t entirely sure how this pack operated.
Another explosion of magic flashed on the lawn, and in a blink, Cameron, Kaillen, and Gavin were all crouched to the ground, naked and shuddering. Sweat dripped from their bodies, beady drops rolling past numerous cuts and bruises. But since all three were dominant wolves, their bodies began healing immediately. Any gashes or puncture wounds sealed over within a few minutes, and even though I didn’t scent the Fire Wolf’s magic that had healed him at lightning speed at the Black Underbelly, he still healed faster than his brothers.
Another middle-aged man jogged up behind Paxton and tossed the Fire Wolf, Cameron, and Gavin spare clothes.
“That’s my father’s beta,” Ocean whispered.
Each brother tugged on a pair of pants, and the display was done so casually and easily, that I was again reminded of how nudity was not a big deal in packs.
My eyes glued to the hunter, raking up and down his frame as he stood to his full height and cinched the loose pants around his waist with the drawstring. The pants hung low on his hips, his ridged abs on full display.
None of the men bothered with a shirt, despite the air being cold and the wind blowing fiercely. The inky tattoo splayed across the hunter’s upper back glistened with sweat.
I figured that the heat of the battle was still raging through their veins, or it was simply because they were werewolves with incredibly high metabolisms who were immune to the cold. Wolves were always known to be warm, as I remembered from my time with Carlos. But since the Fire Wolf also had those eternal flames inside him, I wondered if he burned even hotter than others.
My gaze slid over his impressive physique once more, taking in his rigid muscles and smooth skin. An aching pulse started low in my belly. My attraction to the hunter again fired through me, setting my nerves ablaze and my core on fire, even though it was an entirely inappropriate time to be having such a reaction.
The hunter’s chin tilted toward me, his nostrils flaring. A knowing glint lit his eyes before his jaw locked and his attention shifted back to his father.
Paxton planted his hands on his hips, a heavy scowl covering his face. “What the hell is going on here?”
Cameron cast an irritated glare at his youngest brother. “He shouldn’t be here.”
If the Fire Wolf felt slighted, he hid it completely. In typical fashion, his face had turned into a stoic mask.
Paxton growled and took a step toward Cameron. “That’s no way to treat your brother.” His gaze swung to Gavin, too, who wisely kept his mouth shut.
Cameron’s teeth gritted. “He’s not our brother. He’s worse than scum.”
A pained sound escaped Ocean, and my hunter’s gaze flickered toward her.
I watched the entire display, wide-eyed, and was beginning to see why the Fire Wolf had such disdain for this pack and didn’t consider them his family.
Paxton glared at his eldest son, his eyes filled with deadly malice. “I was told you started this.”
Cameron didn’t reply.
“Apologize,” Paxton snapped. “Right now.”
Cameron’s jaw locked. “No.”
Paxton prowled a step closer to him, until his chest nearly brushed his son’s. “Are you challenging me, boy?”
A muscle in the corner of Cameron’s jaw flexed, and his eyes flicked to Gavin, but Gavin looked down, his gaze on the ground.
Cameron went back to holding eye contact with his father, and a collective intake of breaths came from the few neighbors who had been brave enough to stay.
“Well?” Paxton bit out. A huge push of dominance shot from him.
Cameron’s expression quivered, his muscles pulsing, but then he abruptly stepped back, bearing his neck.
Paxton glared again at his eldest son. “I’m still waiting for your apology to Kaillen.”
Cameron’s nostrils flared before he said through gritted teeth, “Sorry.”
His father stared at him for a moment longer, as if to make sure his son wasn’t getting any other ideas, before he shifted his attention to the hunter.
The Fire Wolf’s outward expression hadn’t changed, but his back grew straighter, his entire body stiffening.
“I’m sorry for this.”
The hunter stayed quiet.
“You look well,” Paxton added gruffly. “It’s good to have you home.”
The Fire Wolf gave a curt nod but still didn’t reply.
“This won’t happen again.”
The Fire Wolf’s eyes blazed, but his silence remained, and I wished so desperately that I knew what he was thinking.
Paxton glowered then barked at Cameron and Gavin, “Clean this place up. And I don’t want to hear about any more fighting while your brother’s here.”
Cameron’s eyes shot daggers at the Fire Wolf, and Gavin glared at him, but neither replied. Silently, they bent down and began collecting the shredded fabric on the lawn from the wolves who hadn’t removed their clothing before shifting. They stuffed everything under their arms and stalked away.
Beside me, Ocean let out a sigh of relief as she shoved her hands into her pockets. “Looks like Kaillen’s in the clear . . . for now.”
I was still reeling from the entire brawl as the hunter and his father walked toward us. Now that the fight was over, the remaining neighbors retreated to their homes or backyards.
Paxton King stopped at Ocean’s front porch. Up close, his face looked weathered. Deep grooves cut into the skin around his eyes, and his tanned complexion told me he spent most of his time outdoors. Like Cameron, his eyes were brown, but like the Fire Wolf, his frame was huge, similar in size to the hunter’s.
The Fire Wolf’s father cocked his head at me, his astute gaze assessing my frame. But unlike when Cameron had sized me up, the alpha’s appraisal held no contempt or sneering hate. “You’re Tala Davenport, the witch from Chicago that my pack is guarding?”
I nodded. “I am. And I hear you’re Paxton King, the alpha of this pack?”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, even more so when my gaze didn’t lower. That’s right, sir. This lady isn’t the submissive type.
I continued to hold eye contact, and to his credit, he didn’t shoot any dominant energy in my direction, which told me the Ontario pack didn’t function entirely in the old ways. In other words, Mr. King didn’t feel the need to have all women be subservient.