She hugged the tree line, sticking to the shadows, as she circled closer. It wasn’t so much that she feared what would happen if she were seen, as that she wanted to take every opportunity to survey the scene and arm herself with a good grasp on the assembled wolves. Most of them meant her no direct harm, but those who did needed to be watched.
A group of males loitering near the path from the main house caught her attention right away. She could make out the faces of Pete Scott and Greg Carpenter easily enough, but a third man stood with his back to her, and it wasn’t until he took a step to his right that she spotted a fourth figure leaning arrogantly against a tree trunk. Darin Major—who apparently hadn’t given up his ambitions, in spite of his close acquaintance with her mate’s canine teeth—had his arms folded across his chest and an attitude of macho arrogance clinging to him like stale sweat.
Her lip curled involuntarily.
She had no doubt about her ability to defeat each one of those males in an honest challenge. As strong as they might be, she was no weakling, plus she had speed and agility on her side. Then there was the fact that not one of them had ever fought a real challenge before. The scuffles that had gained them their places in the pack as they reached adulthood had amounted to little more than a bullying of weaker males or showy wrestling matches that had more in common with pay-per-view cable than real battles for dominance. Honor should know; she had fought three real challenges just this week. She had won those, and she could win these.
Well, she could have, if any of the males had been inclined to fight fair. One at a time, none of them posed a challenge, but if they banded together, or demanded that she fight them in quick succession, she knew they would wear her down. They had strength in numbers, but Honor was on her own.
She looked away as she approached the oak stump. She could see her uncle and Max standing in front of it, almost as if they were saving her place. The thought almost made her smile. At least she knew she had two pack members on her side. Two was better than none.
Probably.
A flicker of movement drew her eyes to the far side of the stump, about halfway between it and the trees on the east side of the clearing. Joey stood there, slightly apart from a small group of females, some of the women she usually hung out with.
Okay, so maybe Honor had more than two pack members on her side. She didn’t think any of the females would try to kill her tonight, either. None of them believed she was strong enough to defeat Honor Tate. But more than that, Honor couldn’t imagine any of them being dumb enough to want to run the pack. Most of them realized what rough shape they were in, and they’d rather let someone else clean up the mess.
She didn’t blame a single one of them.
As she moved around behind the stump and paused, Honor took a moment to say her good-byes. Even if she survived the coming battle—and she was too much of a pragmatist to plan on that—she realized that life as she knew it was ending. Either she would die on this ceremonial ground, or she could emerge the alpha of the White Paw Clan. At that point it would be too late to wish things were different, that her life were different, that someone else would take responsibility. Once Honor became the alpha, there would be no looking back.
She waited for a moment, until she heard the crackling sound that signaled the huge bonfire had been lit in the fire pit she’d been working on the morning after Logan’s arrival. She took that as her cue.
Drawing in a single slow, deep breath, Honor closed her eyes and let the magic flow through her. When she opened them again, it was to step forward and climb atop the remains of the oak tree.
All talking stopped when the first Lupine spotted her. Honor knew she would be hard to miss. Not only was she standing in the spot reserved for the alpha of the White Paw, she was standing before her pack, tall and bare, her pale skin glowing in the light of the swiftly rising moon and the leaping, flickering flames. The nudity was the least of her concerns. Before long, the entire pack would be naked, because clothing never fared well during a shift. Being naked was natural for a Lupine; being a female alpha was not.
Well, fuck that, Honor thought as she lifted her chin and opened her mouth to speak.
“Brothers and sisters.” She spoke clearly, lifting her voice to be heard even at the far edges of the stone yard. She was done with hiding, done with being doubted. She was alpha now, and her pack would listen. “Tonight we gather beneath the moon to mourn the passing of our leader. Ethan Tate led this pack with strength and courage for nearly four decades and for that we honor him. Raise your voices for our fallen brother!”
Throwing back her head, Honor opened her mouth and let her wolf sound the call. Sharp and mournful, her howl rose into the clear night sky, followed soon after by another, then another, then another, until the entire pack sang a Lupine dirge in memory of her father.
When the last note died, Honor opened her eyes and let the golden light of her beast shine out over the pack, reflecting the bright glow of the bonfire.
“And now,” she said, her voice low and rumbling as if a growl struggled somewhere in her chest to be released, “let us do as Ethan Tate would do and move our pack forward into the future.”
She paused for a second and caught her uncle’s eye, drawing deeply of his supportive strength. Max, too, watched her with calm dedication. She could do this, Honor told herself. She had to do this, because there was no one else.
“I, Honor Tate, the last surviving member of the alpha bloodline of the White Paw Clan, take for myself the place of alpha. This title is mine. This pack is mine. This territory is mine. Let anyone who would protest come forward and feel my wrath.”
That, as the stories would one day say, was when all hell broke loose.
Logan fought in silence, struggling with all his strength against an enormous weight that pressed him down into a dark, suffocating fog. His limbs felt like granite and moving them even the slightest bit took every ounce of his strength. Something pinned him down, but he knew, he knew that he couldn’t stay here. He knew something was wrong, something that he had to fix, to stop, to make right. Logan needed to wake, and he needed to do it now.
Consciousness returned on a rush of magic, not the kind that tickled just beneath his skin in the split second before his change, but that kind that rushed forth from a hundred Lupine throats, all raised to the sky in a flurry of song. A pack was calling. It wasn’t precisely his pack, but it felt almost the same. It felt like they were calling out for something; it felt like they were calling him.
He sat up like a coiled-spring snake bursting from a can of nuts. Adrenaline coursed through his system, making his heart pump hard and fast and leaving him gasping. He felt as if he’d been underwater for too long, and now he sucked air frantically into oxygen-starved lungs. Wide-eyed, he took in his surroundings—the rough, bare walls, the spartan bunk, the moonlight shining in through the single window. For a moment, he felt panic rising. He had no idea where he was. Then Honor’s face appeared in his mind, and the memories came rushing back.
Racing through the woods. Honor leading him to the cabin. Waking up to the mind-blowing sensation of her mouth on his flesh. Mating. Their argument. The gunshot.
His right hand flew to his injured left shoulder, feeling the rough texture of gauze beneath his fingertips. Clearly, his mate had stayed with him long enough to bandage his wound, so where was she now? Why had she left? Had she gone for help? That seemed a bit like overkill, given that she would know he’d begin recovering quickly the minute he woke enough to shift.