Shana crouched forward slightly, letting the growl ripple out of her throat as her fingernails morphed sharply into claws. Zoe’s eyes narrowed and Shana saw her muscles tense in anticipation of the fight, even though she made no move to step away from her table into the open center of the room.
“Enough!”
The bellow held an edge of authority Shana reacted to instinctively. Her claws retracted suddenly. The Alpha had spoken.
Landon stood, the scrape of his chair against the wooden floor loud in the echoing silence. He sat at a table among the lesser members of his pride, not bothering to separate himself according to rank as his predecessors had. Shana hadn’t even noticed him sitting there. Until he stood.
When he rose, the mantle of the Alpha fell on his shoulders. He radiated dominance and authority. And disapproval.
“We do not fight for housing privileges anymore,” he announced, his voice ringing out across the room.
Shana fought the urge to cower. And won. She was not so easily cowed. She met the Alpha’s eyes across the room and did not blink.
“She doesn’t have to fight me. She just has to give it back.”
The Alpha growled, the low sound traveling the room to grip her spine, urging her to bend in submission. Shana stood straight.
“That isn’t how we do things anymore,” Landon rumbled.
“Our instincts don’t change, no matter how human you might try to make us.” Shana spat the word “human” in the direction of the Alpha’s spineless mate.
When little Ava flinched, Shana wanted to crow her victory. The Alpha’s weakling mate would never be strong enough to keep him. Only Shana had the strength to rule beside him. Her rightful place in the pride was so close she could taste it, sweet and bright on her tongue.
“You are welcome to return to the pride, Shana,” Landon said, the welcome sounding forced and borderline violent. “But the same rules still apply. We are not a pride of animals.”
The abrupt laugh burst out of Shana’s mouth before she could stop it. “We aren’t? What are we then?”
“Civilized,” Landon snarled, sounding anything but.
“Yes,” Shana purred, laughter rolling around in her voice. “I can see that. Just look how civilized I make you feel.”
She wallowed in his anger. Anger was a kind of passion. There was power in it.
The Alpha’s mate did nothing to defend her claim, tiny Ava shivering in her chair. But Zoe’s lips drew back from her teeth and her body tensed. Shana’s claws snapped out, eager and ready.
An arm locked around her stomach, hard and unmoving.
Caleb.
She hadn’t for a second forgotten his presence at her back, but she never would have suspected he would interfere with a challenge. It simply was not done in the pride. Here, honor was found only in a fight, with fur and claws flying. No one stood in the way of that.
“I know an empty bungalow,” he said to the Alpha, speaking past her shoulder. “She can sleep there, until she decides if she is willing to obey the new rules.”
Shana hissed, so low only Caleb would be able to hear her, at the word obey. “I would rather sleep in a scorpion nest than lower myself to sleep in your sister’s hovel,” she whispered.
He ignored her, listening obediently as the Alpha gave his verdict.
“Fine. Just keep her out of trouble.”
Shana snorted. “I’d like to see him try,” she said, loud enough for the Alpha, and Zoe, and Ava, and anyone else who might be stupid enough to think she was cowed, to hear.
Caleb’s arm tightened minutely around her waist. She knew he was stronger than she was, knew he could force the issue if he chose, and, for a moment, she almost considered fighting him. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that the entire pride was watching. She did not want her triumphant return to claim her place as the Alpha’s rightful mate to be sullied by a scuffle with Caleb. She had her image as the future ruler of the pride to think about.
But, she also couldn’t afford to be seen as weak.
Shana’s claws flashed out, fast and lethal. She slashed at Caleb’s forearm and twisted out of his grip before the blood had time to splash out. She’d always been eerily fast. Her size was an advantage in fights, but her speed was what made her dangerous.
Blood dripped from the gashes on Caleb’s arm as the big, slow ox reached for her. Instead of dodging back, she darted toward the double doors. “Come on,” she snapped irritably over her shoulder. “Show me where this empty bungalow is. I don’t have all night.”
She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know every eye was on her as she swept out of the hall.
She didn’t want to look over her shoulder to see the slow fire she knew would be in Caleb’s eyes. She had a feeling he wasn’t going to take her little scratches lightly.
And he didn’t forgive easily. She knew that all too well.
Chapter Three
The sight of blood dripping onto the pristine white snow blanketing the ground was oddly beautiful. Or it would have been.
If it hadn’t been his blood.
Caleb flexed his fingers, feeling the pull against the bloody gashes on his arm. Even healing as quickly as shifters did, Shana’s little love scratches were going to leave a mark.
His own fault. He’d learned long ago that she wasn’t afraid to use her claws, especially when she was trying her damnedest to prove she wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone.
She started to turn up the narrow path leading to Ava’s old cabin, but Caleb caught her eye and jutted his chin toward the main walkway. “This way.”
Shana stopped at the T in the path. “Dream on.” She planted one hand on her hip and flipped her long red hair, shaking off the snowflakes caught there. “I’d rather sleep with scorpions than in your sister’s bed, but I’d rather sleep there than in yours.”
Caleb told himself he didn’t give a damn where she slept, ignoring the feral urging of his lion to prove her words a lie. He’d scented lust on her earlier. Even if she had just clawed him, Shana’d always liked it a little rough. Drawing blood was probably a goddamn turn-on.
“Not Ava’s bed and not mine. This way.”
Shana gave a little sniff and fell into step beside him. Her eyes flicked down to his bleeding arm. He knew she was going to say something about it before she spoke.
Shay’d always hated to be proven wrong. She couldn’t tolerate any hint of weakness. Any time anyone bested her in any way, she had to remind everyone she was tough. Always.
“Gosh, Caleb, that looks like it smarts,” she purred, right on cue. “You really should put something on it.”
“It’s fine.” It was better than fine. It was a necessary reminder that Shana was walking, talking poison.
“Are you sure?” She shot him a rabid smile. “I haven’t had my shots.”
Caleb just kept walking, stalking silently through the snow.
Shana bounced on the balls of her feet at his side, the movement jostling loose a memory. His Shay sprawled across his bare chest. His fingers tangled knuckle-deep in her red curls. She twisted and bounced the bed, still energized after he’d done everything humanly—and inhumanly—possible to wear her out. Her happiness spilled around them, sunny and easy. “I love that you’re so silent, Cale,” she announced out of the blue, fingers then claws lightly flexing into his pectoral muscles to test his strength. “There shouldn’t be two talkers in a relationship. I can talk enough for the both of us.”
He hadn’t said anything then. At the time, the only thing he could have said was that he loved her. What a nightmare that would have been. Thank God he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Are we going to that bitch Zoe’s place?” she asked, jarring him out of the depths of his thoughts and back to the present. “I’ll just bet it’s empty if she’s in mine.”