by Sam Hall
“Is he gonna be the next alpha?” Declan asked, looking back at me from the rear vision mirror, waiting for an answer before starting the car.
“Dec, not now,” Mason growled out.
“Nah, it’s a valid question,” I said, rubbing my hands over a face still sticky with tears. “You know if I could, I’d relinquish the position to any of you. Mason, Callum… Honestly, if you were good enough to protect Dad, you’re good enough to run this town.”
“It’s not just the town.”
Micah stared at me with those curiously pale eyes that seemed to hold a whole lot of intensity, dropping down again to look at my…
“No, it’s not, and that’s the problem. I tried to solve this when I was eighteen. Honestly, I tried…” My voice broke on the words. Zack was right—this was too much too soon. “I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say, didn’t even know what I was apologising for right at this moment, but right now, it felt right.
“We’ll work it out,” Declan said, then started the car.
He was waiting in my room when I returned, Zack. He’d stripped down already, just a towel wrapped around his waist, and he went to whip my gown over my head when he saw me.
“Family heirloom, Zack,” I protested, taking over, removing it and then folding it neatly so it could be dry cleaned later. But when he took my hand and tugged me into the bathroom, I went willingly.
There was no heat in his gaze, in his touch, when he started the water. The last time I was in here, I’d jerked off to a memory of his brother, but right now, there was something chaste about Zack. He lathered the soap, washed my limbs, made the water scour all evidence of my tears away until I was just me again.
A me hanging by a thread. Lack of sleep induced an almost drunken state. I was too clumsy, too floppy, too biddable, so when he pushed me towards the bed, I went willingly, falling down onto it. The blankets were a welcome weight, as was he when he got in beside me, cradling me within his arms. I started to shiver, his body heat stifling even while I felt cold, so cold. He held me tight, weathering my shakes until sleep rose up and swallowed me down.
I woke up feeling smothered.
I thrashed initially, dreaming a landslide of mud was swallowing me whole, sucking down my limbs, pinning beneath its immovable—
My eyes flicked open, and I saw where I was, what was happening. Zack was cuddly during sleep, my common complaint that he liked to pin me to the bed when we did so together.
Need to know where you are, that you’re safe, even then, he’d replied with a grin the last time I told him off about it. So I was adept at wiggling out from under him without waking him, slipping out of the bed, pulling on my pyjamas, and padding out of the room.
My throat was dry, my head hurt, and my stomach felt like it was turning in on itself from hunger, so I ran down the stairs, only to find I had a visitor.
“Hey,” Stevie said, holding up a bottle of tequila in each hand. “Didn’t expect to see you up yet. Brought some supplies for your harem.”
“They’re not my harem.”
“Only if you don’t want them to be. Pack princess and all. I think you’d be surprised at who was nursing a crush. But not the right one, maybe?”
I shook my head. While I’d always considered Stevie my friend, her bar was the epicentre of town gossip, so finding more was as natural as breathing. I snorted, but when I went to retort, my stomach spoke for me, growling loudly.
“Got food too. Those boys need something to line their bellies before they drink the amount I think they’re gonna drink. You in?”
She tilted her head back slightly, that glitter of a challenge the same one she’d always used right before we were gonna do something dumb. But right now, dumb sounded like a damn fine idea.
“This is a wake.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
Her voice was quiet, but she made no excuses. Stevie never did. She just eyed me sideways, reading me like she did everyone.
“Yeah, I’m in.”
“Good girl,” she said with a cheeky grin. “C’mon, I got the boys unloading most of the heavy stuff.”
I would always notice my father’s absence in weird ways I’m sure, but right now, I did because I was walking into the enforcers’ quarters for one and in my PJs for the other. Dad had been really strict about me keeping clear of the boys.
“I know some of them are your friends, Paige, and I want you to be able to trust them, lean on them, but until you’ve chosen your mate…” His voice trailed away, just a little hopeful I’d interrupt him with my decision. “Then you need to keep a respectable distance.”
“You act like this is some kind of Regency romance and they’ll turn into ravening rapists at the sign of a well-turned ankle,” I’d said.
“No, but any man who looks at you also sees a way into this chair. Enforcers are ambitious, they need to be. They’re our best and brightest.”
Yeah, well, they weren’t so bright right now.
Music pumped loud from the stereo system, playing something raucous and aggressive. Smoke filled the air, a couple of the guys were at the pool table, and the rest were ferrying in slabs of beer or bottles of spirits, along with trays of food. Well, until they saw us. It was seriously like one of those needle scratch moments you see on TV, when everyone turned around.
“Well, well,” Stevie said, brandishing her bottles. “The gang’s all here.”
Mason turned around, a lazy smile on his face, already a little soft around the edges from drinking by the look of it, and with that, I caught a glimpse of the Mase they knew. The stick was well and truly removed from his arse, until he saw me.
“Paige, you can’t—”
“Save it,” I said, noting everyone was watching the two of us, our stances, our stares as we each took the other’s measure. I walked over to the table, picked up a couple of grimy shot glasses, and held them out to Stevie.
“Fuck, have clean ones at least,” Micah said, moving in and reaching to take those from me, handing me fresh ones. Three, I noted. I jerked an eyebrow up, and then my friend cracked the bottle.
“This shit’s been sitting in an oak barrel for over three years. Don’t need no lime, no salt, no shit. It’s as smooth as a baby’s bum,” she pronounced, filling each glass and passing the other two to me. I gave Micah the side-eye before giving the third to him. “To Adam,” she said, holding up her drink.
My hand went up and so did everyone else’s as the music was killed for the moment, and when I looked around, I saw what Mason had talked about—that bond. There were no reluctant or resentful faces in the place, each other glad for the opportunity to honour my father. Belatedly, I realised they were waiting on me, so I said, “To Dad,” putting the shot glass to my mouth and drinking the tequila down. The toast was taken up around the room, every person taking a drink before the noise all started again.
“C’mon,” Stevie said. “Let’s get some food in you. I’ve got a bottle of my best Patrón with your name on it, girl, but you gotta get something into your stomach.”
“Paige, I’m glad you came down, and thanks, Stevie, for putting this on.” Mason had arrived, following us into the kitchen, where big aluminium foil trays of food were being uncovered.
“But,” Stevie said with a smirk. “I’m sensing a but.”
“There’s always a butt,” I winked back, taking an exaggerated look at the very well formed, jean-clad butts in front of us. Declan spun around, catching us in the act, a slow smirk matching ours in minutes.
“But until the succession process is locked down, being here is a liability. You’d be seen favouring the enforcers—”
“Oh my god, Mason, do you ever stop?” There it was, that same mulish expression, right back where it belonged. “It’s one fucking day. One day. Can I not have something to fucking eat and drink with some friends and spend some time commemorating the life of someone I loved with other people who loved him?” I watched his reso
lve falter a little, but that didn’t mean anything with Mason. He was such a hard-headed prick. “Actually, why am I asking permission?”
“Ooh…” Stevie said in a low voice, snickering when I shot her a look. She’d arbitrated a lot of Paige vs Mason fights in the past.
“Unless anyone else has objections to me being here?” I turned around and saw we had the focus of everyone in the room, but they weren’t looking anywhere near as pissed. These were typical Aussie blokes, for all they were wolves, so some were checking out my tits, some were checking out my arse, and the rest just wanted to get fucking drunk and anyone who was a friend of the beer was a friend of theirs.
“Paige—”
“The only words I wanna hear from you are ‘Yes, Paige, have some of this delicious BBQ chook and salads that Stevie has so kindly put on’ or…” I grinned, the feeling odd after yesterday, yet as familiar as breathing. “Or get in the ring, motherfucker.”
“What!?” Declan spluttered. Well, him and most of the blokes in the room, the others just cheered wildly in that time-honoured Australian tradition when someone was about to do something dumb while drinking. Stevie took my glass and a couple more she found on the kitchen sink, poured out shots in a line of deep golden tequila, and passed me two.
“Get in the ring?” Mason asked, crossing his arms while I fought very hard not to notice the way those big biceps popped when he did so. “So what, if I can get in the first hit, you’ll go upstairs and back to my brother?”
“If I can put you on your arse, you have to butt the hell out until the succession is sorted and either you’re alpha or someone else is,” I shot back.
“Oh, this is gonna be good. Food first, girl. You need to fuel up to fight,” Stevie said, moving to grab a bread roll and piling it high with meat and salad. “You can fight, can’t you?”
“Yeah, I can fight.” I took the food from her and had a big bite. Damn, fresh bread, rotisserie chicken and salad—Aussie BBQ heaven. Mason watched me munch that down with a curious mix of concern and amusement.
“Zack’s obviously shown you a thing or two, and you’re fit. Doesn’t mean much in a real fight.”
“Aw, are you mansplaining fighting to me?” I asked. I was being a cheeky little shit, but that felt good right now. I’d only just begun the grieving process, but I wanted to take a little pitstop before I moved onto the next step. Eat, drink, have some fun, try to shore myself up, get ready for what was coming.
I remembered this look. His eyes shone as his jaw tightened, but not in preparation for his usual frown. This was his attempt to smother the laugh that was coming. He always did that, like laughing out loud would lead to licentiousness or something. I scarfed down the food, took a swig of Declan’s beer to his initial dismay then laughter, and then took off out of the room.
“Giving up already, princess?” Mase called out.
“Just getting dressed in something better to kick your arse.”
“Hey…” Zack said sleepily as I rummaged around in my bag for some tights. I had some good thick Lycra ones which were perfect for this kinda thing. “Whatcha doing?”
“Gonna put your brother on his butt so I can sit up drinking with the enforcers.”
“Yeah?” He flopped back onto the bed, letting out a long sigh. “Keep your hands up, move faster than he can, and sweep the fucking leg.”
“You going all Cobra Kai on me?”
“Old footy injury in the right knee. You’ll have him down in seconds.”
“You coming down?”
“Nah, I’m fucked. Haven’t had enough sleep lately. Neither have you. You’ll crash after this, you know.”
“I know.”
He gave me one long appreciative look as I stretched my legs, feeling the range of the activewear before pulling my T-shirt off and replacing it with a sports bra.
“Well, you’ll have his attention, anyway. Distracting him with boobs? Good plan.”
I stopped still, straightened, and then crawled onto the bed, his hands reaching out for me as soon I got close. He kissed me long and slow, until I wondered what the hell I was fighting for.
“You’re talking about your brother checking out my tits.”
“Noticed that, did you? I can’t get jealous, Paige. I won’t let myself.” He ran a finger down my cheekbone. “I’m not sure in what capacity I’m gonna get to have a relationship with you, so I’m staying open to the possibilities.”
“What possibilities? You and…” I stopped talking. I couldn’t make those words out, I just couldn’t. Shifter men were growly, pushy, and possessive. Sharing was not part of their vocabulary.
But if it was…
Stevie and I, we’d talked about it some nights at the pub. I’d been underage, of course, but she turned a blind eye to the alpha’s daughter. Better she knew where I was drinking, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be at some house party with boys. The short-term impact alcohol had on shifter’s systems made parents more relaxed about it.
“So what if you didn’t have to choose?” she’d asked me, pushing a coffee my way.
“That’s not how it works. They’d…” I shook my head. It wasn’t even worth thinking about.
“C’mon, live a little, even if it’s just in your mind. People have all sorts of relationships now. You could have a throuple going with a couple of those enforcers.”
“Is that what you want?”
I never saw Stevie with anyone, ever. She was a beautiful woman, caught the eye of many a guy, but if they tried flirting, she just smiled and laughed at them.
“What I want is irrelevant. What you want is gonna change this town, one way or the other.”
“So this is about predicting what the new regime will be?” I shrugged. We both knew who I wanted to choose, but I couldn’t articulate it. To say it out loud was to make it a real possibility, and I wasn’t ready for that yet.
“Dream big. It’s just words. These guys, they tell you that you have to do this and that. An eighteen-year-old working out who her mate is and then making him leader of the whole town? Never heard anything like it outside of this place.”
It was hard to remember Stevie hadn’t always owned the bar. While her face was smooth and unlined, there was something ageless about her, like she was perpetually twenty-three.
“Who’d you take, if you had the choice? If you could walk down the stairs, past your dad and your aunty and all that bloody family, stroll into the enforcers’ rooms and just take your pick…”
“You like that idea,” Zack said with a sly smile. “You do.”
“Stop sniffing me,” I said, pushing myself off him with a punch to his shoulder. “Scent isn’t everything. What I want is to kick your brother’s arse.”
“Then do it, baby, and then when you’re done with drinking, come back to me.”
Chapter 14
The party had decamped to the training room, booze, food, and music all brought along. The speakers were blaring Guns and Roses’ “Get in the Ring,” which just made me laugh. I went through my usual warmup routine, but that was somewhat distracted by Mason stripping off his jacket, then his shirt.
“Don’t let the eye candy keep you off your game. You’re striking a blow for the sisterhood, girl,” Stevie said from my side of the room.
I shook my head, tried valiantly to keep my eyes to myself, and then worked on my head game. To the sound of an eighties synth rock track, I saw a montage of me striking out at Mason, forcing him back, slipping under his more powerful but slower hits, running rings around him, and then putting him on his arse. I held onto that when I walked to the centre of the room.
“So how you wanna do this?” Mason asked, looking down at me with a smirk. This was all just a formality for him—I’d do what he wanted once he showed me who was boss. Fucking wolf shifters, always the same.
“First one to get a hit in?”
“You said you were gonna put me on my arse.”
I shrugged, seeing that delicious reality clea
r in my mind. “Works for me.” I shifted into a fighting stance, something that made Mason snort.
“So bets!” Declan said brightly, grabbing a cap from somewhere and holding it out. “C’mon fellas, we’ve gotta show some support for our girl here. Paige puts Mason down, five to one.”
“Yeah, I’ll take those odds,” Micah said, pulling out his wallet.
“Yeah, me, but I’m banking on Mase.”
The other guys all clustered around, working out their bets, when Mason turned to me.
“You ready?” was all the warning I got before he took a swing.
It was my time to snicker as I ducked easily. He had a lot of power and relied on it, like most shifters. Zack and I had to work with them to unlearn that overreliance on sheer brute strength in the gym. I slid under his arm, moving like lightning with all the explosive power I’d worked hard to develop, smacked a couple of good hits to his ribs, and then was away before he’d even wheeled around.
“So you’re fast,” he said with a wince.
“Gotta be.”
I replied, kept the banter up, but I wasn’t really focussed on the words. I just needed him distracted while I wore him down, and then I’d consider using the dirty trick Zack had suggested. This wasn’t a bout, it was for beer, and almost every Australian would be prepared to do battle for that.
I kept dancing around him, something that made him snort with frustration. Point one for Paige. Then he forced himself to move in earnest, fists up, trying to follow my movements. I needed to keep him doing that, willing to bet he didn’t have my cardio strength. He took a swipe, then another, but I dodged out of the way, forcing him to waste his energy.
“C’mon, Paige! Bring the fucker down!” Declan shouted. Mason stopped to growl at that, so I chanced a move in on his right side, kicking out and slamming my foot into his right thigh.
