The Mating Game

by Melissa Snark

  Zach grumbled an agreement. “Adam is a right bastard.”

  Robert huffed. “Yeah.”

  Zach hesitated, but curiosity got the better of him. “You want to be Alpha.”

  Robert stared at him. “Of course.”

  “An Alpha has to have a mate. It’s the Alpha’s duty to provide the pack with offspring. Potential successors,” Zach said, doing his best to school his tone and features. He raised a single eyebrow to reinforce the implicit question.

  Robert delayed answering. His mouth twisted into a grimace, but at long last he formulated a reluctant reply. “I swing both ways. I simply happen to prefer male companionship.”

  “Ah.” With a shrug, Zach allowed the awkward topic to drop. It was not in his nature to cast stones.

  An uneasy silence abided while they regarded one another in the darkness of the summer night. Zach felt unsure about how far he could trust Robert given the nature of the information he possessed. He and Robert were friends, but to a point. It was an untested friendship, one that had never endured hardship or withstood the test of fire. Adam wanted to ensure that Robert never became the Alpha, and he intended for Zach to do his dirty work. He found the Alpha’s motivations to be so repugnant that, ultimately, he had no other choice but to extend that trust.

  Zach drew in a deep breath and began to speak as he exhaled. “Adam came to see me Saturday afternoon. He said that he favors me as his successor and made it clear that he intends for me to kill you.”

  Robert uttered a hard, vehement curse. He made a fist with his hand and turned in a circle as if searching for something to strike. Ultimately, he ran his hand through his hair in an effort to channel his violent impulses into something more constructive. “That sonofabitch.”

  “He’s racist.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Robert stared into the darkness. “I know.”

  Zach cocked his head. “Are you going to challenge him? You’re within your rights.”

  Robert smiled, white teeth flashing and eyes glowing within the darkness. “It would serve that bastard right, but no. The pack looks to Adam as their savior. After all, he rescued them from Bryce. If I kill him, then I’m the bad guy and Adam still wins.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Robert released a breath in an audible exhalation. “I need to think, figure out what to do. Damn. Thanks man.”

  They shook, hands grasped to forearms, and then released. Zach experienced a surge of satisfaction. He’d made the right choice in trusting Robert. The other male possessed the cunning and discipline necessary to make a reasoned decision. Maybe working together, they could figure out a way to outsmart Adam Teller.

  “Zach…” Robert said and then hesitated.

  Zach sensed the unspoken question. “Go on, ask.”

  “In all this time, I never once got the impression you wanted leadership of the pack.”

  “I came from London for the opportunity to be among this pack’s dominant wolves.”

  “You’ve never challenged me for Beta,” Robert noted.

  “Adam invited me to join six months after you as Gamma. The objective was to restore the pack to normalcy. Infighting among the dominants would only detract from that goal.”

  “That’s it?” Robert looked and sounded more than skeptical. “You never challenged me because it was for the good of the pack?”

  With nothing more than moonlight to illuminate Robert’s face, it was difficult to discern his exact expression. The entire tangent of the conversation caught Zach off guard, and he regarded the other werewolf with suspicion.

  “What the bloody hell do you want me to say, Robert? I have to justify not trying to kill you in a dominance contest?” Zach asked. “I thought we were friends.”

  Robert held up his hands, palms out. “Shit, Zach, calm down. No one really knows you or your motives all that well. You play it too close to the chest.”

  “That’s my way.”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Robert said. “I didn’t mean to piss you off. I just wanted to understand what you’re in it for. I have my answer—for the good of the pack. Fair enough. I feel the same way.”

  “Damn it.” Zach gnashed his teeth together and turned away. He’d bitten Robert’s head off for no good reason. He started to walk away from the Beta wolf and then stopped. “Sorry, mate.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better than to press you when your woman is about to go rounds with Donna.”

  Zach’s mouth flattened to a grim line. He did not correct the other man’s mistaken assumption about Theresa’s status as his lover. Zach wasn’t willing to kill Robert for leadership of the pack, but he wasn’t a fool. Zach wouldn’t hesitate to take the life of any male who threatened his relationship with Theresa.

  “Theresa is going to hand that bitch her arse,” Zach boasted.

  “You sound confident.”

  Zach’s lips twisted into a cold smile. “Oh, I am.”

  Robert snuffed out his cigarette. “Well, then. That’s one fight I’d hate to miss. Let’s get down to the creek.”

  Chapter Seven

  A pregnant moon hung in the sky, three nights shy of being full, and every member of the pack shared intense excitement to be outside beneath her silver light. The Harvest Moon would awaken their beasts, compelling every werewolf to shed their human skins. Only three nights until wolves roamed free through the alpine forests.

  Moving along on all fours, Theresa walked beside Charlaine. They headed down the slope to where the pack gathered just north of Foxtail Creek. The chosen spot was a forest clearing, a peaceful meadow ringed by a natural fence of pine trees upon a carpet of needles and dry summer grasses. A mosaic of browns and greens composed the landscape of fall. Crickets sang counterpoint to the bubbling stream to create a nighttime concerto.

  The pack gathered there, congregating in twos and threes, speaking in hushed voices. People turned as Theresa passed and reached out to press curious fingers into her fur. They murmured words of encouragement for the upcoming fight and patted the top of her head. The outpouring of support and affection surprised her and the unexpected attention left her stunned. She accepted their support and soaked up the warm approval. Her fur moved in joyful ripples beneath the petting hands.

  Across the clearing, Donna waited with Simone and Carl Reynolds. Donna’s supporters were few in number and formed a loose ring about her, as if hesitant to stand too close to the female wolf. Donna’s popularity had its foundation in promiscuity and bullying, traits that inspired sunny day loyalty. Her way harkened to the dark days of the pack, when might made right and tyranny came before justice.

  Faced with the reality of the coming confrontation, Theresa’s confidence stumbled. The anger that had driven her to challenge Donna wasn’t her natural predisposition. She was a mother and a protector but not a fighter. Her gentle wolf provided her with plenty of nurturing instinct, but not primal aggression.

  Charlaine dropped to one knee beside Theresa. The Delta buried her hands in Theresa’s ruff, threading her fingers through the thick fur. “Donna fights like a dog,” she warned. “She’s going to come right at you and go straight for your throat. She’s bigger than you, but you can use that to your advantage. Keep moving and stay out of her reach, okay?”

  Theresa barked to indicate her understanding. She pressed her side against Charlaine, accepting the dominant female’s unspoken support. Theresa grasped the imperative nature of the conflict. She must win. Losing entailed a huge loss of face, and would leave both herself and her daughter vulnerable to Donna’s predations. More than that, it was long past time that someone stood up to the bullying female. She was begging to be put in her place.

  The sound of footfalls caught Theresa’s attention and she glanced sideways to discover Zach standing beside her. Robert wasn’t far behind him, watching with an implacable expression. Without speaking, Charlaine surrendered her hold on Theresa and moved a short distance away.

  Zach knelt and placed
his hands on her shoulders. Her heart leapt at his touch, but she hardened it against him. His manipulation was not forgotten or forgiven. When he pulled her toward him, she resisted and dug in her paws, but his strength eclipsed hers. Ultimately, she submitted to his examination, dropping her gaze and enduring it in sullen silence.

  Zach cupped her muzzle and forced Theresa’s head up so he could look her straight in the eyes. “I understand that you’re angry with me, love. But this isn’t the time or place. Put that anger aside unless you can use it in this fight. Remember what I’ve taught you and you’ll win this without breaking a sweat.”

  Theresa’s jaws parted in a snarl. She flashed her teeth and jerked her head free of his grasp. Stiff-legged, she pranced away, making a clear show of her defiance. If he wanted attitude, then she could offer it up in spades.

  Zach threw back his head and laughed. “Adam! Let’s get this show underway, shall we?”

  From the other side of the field, Adam tilted his hat in acknowledgment. Then, the Alpha advanced to the center of the clearing. He spoke loud enough for all those assembled to hear. “The rules are simple. This is a fight to establish dominance and for rank. Donna Turnkill is the defender; Theresa Sanchez is the challenger. Seeing as how this fight involves a fertile female with a pup, it will not be a fight to the death.”

  The pack stirred, but Adam did not invite questions or comments. Lifting his hands, he gestured both women forward. Theresa advanced to the specified starting position approximately thirty feet across from Donna.

  Theresa trembled in the grip of excitement, every fiber primed for action. She stared at her opponent and found no fear or hesitance in the other female’s gaze. As a wolf, Donna had mottled fur with a black head and face, dark brown fur and gray dappling across her entire body, coloring similar to that of an Australian shepherd. She stood several inches taller than Theresa in the shoulder with a long body, rangy legs, and close to a hundred and sixty pounds of lean muscle.

  Donna snarled low in the throat, lips curled back to reveal a flash of yellowed canines dripping saliva. Her ears laid flat against her skull. She held her bristling tail angled low.

  Theresa answered with a warning growl, causing her throat to rumble, revealing her own teeth. She summoned and projected confidence, drawing on the lessons Zach had taught her in order to appear imposing.

  “Begin.” Adam waved his arm and vacated the arena with a quick bound.

  Donna rushed straight at Theresa without any regard for precision in her first strike. As difficult as it was not to succumb to a reckless reaction, Theresa remained poised and held her ground. She waited until the last moment, until she felt the heat of Donna’s huffing breath, and then sidestepped the charge. The dappled wolf struck at empty air with her snapping jaws and then howled her frustration.

  Donna performed a sharp turn and then gathered speed. She came at Theresa again and employed the same head-on tactic. As the other wolf snarled past, Theresa’s head jerked to the side and she delivered a bite to her opponent’s shoulder. Her sharp teeth grazed fur and skin, opening a six-inch gash.

  Donna yowled, part pain, part surprise, and twisted away. Theresa’s jaws snapped shut on empty air as she took another bite. The glancing injury drew a small amount of blood, but it gave her wolf a taste and she wanted more.

  The entire pack ringed them, watching with eerie intensity for the outcome. Not a sound issued from the expectant circle of onlookers.

  Donna skidded to a halt and whirled about. She made a shorter charge that allowed Theresa less time to calculate an evasion. She attempted to sidestep but at the last moment the angry bitch changed course and drove straight into her. Donna did not check her speed, so the collision threw the full weight of both wolves together. They impacted shoulder to shoulder, and it knocked Theresa off her feet. She landed on her side in the dirt and Donna jumped atop her.

  Theresa twisted around and took a bite at her opponent’s front leg. With a snarl, Donna lunged to block her and their fangs clanked as swords, clashing together. Teeth flashing, the female wolves rolled over and over across the dry grass until they came to a halt close to the outer edge of the arena.

  The gathered audience retreated several feet, creating a bulge in the circle; shouts of excitement and aggression arose from the pack. Donna seemed to bubble and percolate with impatience because she lacked the discipline necessary for a game of timing and skill. Her next lunge came within seconds. The dappled wolf rushed Theresa in a whirlwind of snapping teeth and angry snarls. They went over again and rolled.

  Donna came out on top and lunged at her opponent’s throat. Theresa dodged but didn’t get out of the way fast enough. Donna’s fangs slashed open a deep cut on Theresa’s shoulder, and she yipped in pain.

  The pack howled with a steadily mounting bloodlust as the contest grew more vicious. When Donna came at her again, Theresa parried the attack with her mouth. Their jaws met and teeth clicked together, clashing as the deadliest blades. When Theresa rolled away, blood flowed from her muzzle—some of it from her sliced gums and lips, the rest wasn’t hers. The wetness stained her red-black fur an even deeper shade.

  As soon as she gained her feet, Theresa retreated and circled, watching for an opening in her opponent’s defenses. Donna also scrambled upright, but Theresa’s hit and run tactics had begun to frustrate the larger wolf beyond the point of reason. When Donna lunged again, Theresa performed a quick sidestep, relying on her smaller size and superior speed to evade her opponent. She repeated the maneuver again and again. Theresa conserved her strength while Donna expended her energy without regard.

  Donna’s mouth frothed with the passion of her rage. Thick strands of saliva mixed with blood hung like streamers from her jaws and her maddened howls continued to rise in volume and ferocity. Her attacks grew predictable. She performed one full frontal assault after another and gave no consideration to strategic concerns. Theresa fell into a rhythm—dodge to safety, deliver a quick nip or scratch to Donna’s sides and withers, and then retreat. She conserved her strength while her enemy expended her energy in a reckless rampage.

  The pack hung onto the conflict with an unabated lust for blood. It was the control of the dominant wolves that held them back and checked their most vicious instincts. In a more primitive time, the wolves might have fallen upon the flagging female and torn her to shreds. Civilization brought with it certain rules. For one, they did not engage in cannibalism. For another, fertile females almost never fought to the death.

  Theresa judged Donna to be tiring and growing clumsier. Then, she saw her opportunity. Donna dropped her shoulder as she passed and failed to move her hind quarters. Theresa seized the opening and delivered a bite that slashed open the other female’s shoulder from the blade to the top of her front leg. Blood oozing from the injury, Donna staggered and the pack roared with renewed intensity.

  The female wolves circled one another, ears laid back and heads held low. Their glowing eyes gleamed in the darkness, the only source of light aside from the silvery moonshine. Donna made a final desperate rush. Adopting a tactic Zach had taught her, Theresa sidestepped and brought her head in from the side. She aimed low and instead of going for Donna’s protected throat, her jaws closed on her opponent’s front leg. A loud, stomach-curdling crunch announced the breakage of bone.

  Donna yowled in pain and ploughed to a halt, standing on three legs. Her broken limb dangled uselessly beneath her.

  With a howl, the pack surged as one, sending up the primal call of predators scenting blood. The strict and abiding law of pack hierarchy held them back. If Theresa’s prey had been elk or moose in lieu of another female wolf, then every werewolf present would have participated in the kill. Instead of pressing her advantage, Theresa moved to a safe distance and circled again, employing her nimble speed. Balanced precariously on three legs, Donna spun, struggling to face her opponent.

  Donna’s strength continued to flag, and at last Theresa spied an opening. She rushed from the side
and slammed her shoulder into Donna. The blow knocked Donna off her feet and onto her side. Snarling, Theresa continued her charge, going straight for the throat.

  Theresa’s jaws closed on Donna’s thick throat and she pinned the wolf to the ground. Her teeth broke skin and she tasted blood, but she refrained from making the kill. Her jaws closed like a steel trap, but held steady, going no deeper. The blood tasted hot and salty and Donna’s whimpering and heart rush filled Theresa’s entire being with the sweet knowledge of victory. She had won!

  The dominant males rushed onto the field. Zach’s strong, familiar hands closed about Theresa’s jaws and pulled them open. With an excited whimper, Theresa submitted to him and released her stranglehold on Donna. Robert bent and hauled the other female away, removing her from the arena.

  Adam’s voice boomed over the din. “I officially declare Theresa Sanchez to be the winner. Her rank is now Sigma and she is to be accorded the respect and authority she is due. I’m giving our combatants an hour to recover and then I want the meeting to reconvene back at the house at midnight. Now let’s give the victor our congratulations.”

  The pack went wild. With a cheer, a dozen members closed on Theresa.

  Her body ached from several minor injuries but she didn’t feel the pain thanks to the exaltation of victory. Hands stroked her fur; voices murmured praise and reassurance. Again, that amazing thing happened—the pack’s long dead magic came to life and it flowed through her and into everyone. Her courage provided the stimulus that brought them closer. She was the one vital link holding them all together. She felt their emotions as if they were her own. She knew who expressed support…and who didn’t. More than just approval percolated within the other members and, as much as she basked in the glow of winning, she was mindful of the risks. Upsetting the pack’s hierarchy had consequences; change brought danger. Higher ranked members would now view her as a threat; lower ranked would regard her with jealousy.

  Charlaine materialized out of the crowd and approached them. She knelt to inspect Theresa’s injuries. Her scolding hands shooed Zach and everyone else out of the way. “Let me see.”