She-Alpha (Hell's Wolves MC Book 6)

by J. L. Wilder

  “Are you sure?” She wanted to placate him, to let him know she was on his side by offering something. He was probably already mad that she had chosen Wes to run recon, a job that would traditionally have gone to the second in command. It showed that she trusted Wes more than she did him.

  Which was true. But it must have rankled to have that pointed out.

  But he seemed not to appreciate her offer of a break. He glared at her. “I’m fine, Fi.”

  He felt condescended to, she realized belatedly. He thought she was saying he couldn’t handle what they were dealing with unless he was given regular breaks. She wanted to correct the impression, to tell him she knew he was strong and could handle anything he was faced with, but that would just exacerbate the problem. “Okay,” she agreed, and let the matter drop, hoping the damage to their already rocky relationship wasn’t too bad.

  “Here,” Carla said. She turned the book she had been examining so that everyone could see it. “These are the colors they were wearing, aren’t they?”

  Fiona examined the image. It was hand drawn, so it was hard to be sure. The book they were looking at was older than anyone at the table, and it contained the combined wisdom of members of the Hell’s Wolves handed down generation to generation. Someone, at some point in the past, had had dealings with this pack, and they had recorded it for posterity.

  The image was of a human hand, the fingers curled inward as if to scratch at something. In place of fingernails, each finger ended in a wolf claw, and a drop of blood ran down one of the claws. It was rendered in white on black, except for the blood, which was bright red.

  “Yes,” Leo said. “That’s definitely it.”

  “You’re sure?” Fiona hadn’t gotten a good enough look at the pack’s colors to say with certainty whether this was what she had seen.

  Leo and Carla nodded confidently.

  Fiona pulled the book toward her and read—

  The FERAL FANGS — While their territory is in northern Nevada, this pack of outlaw shifters has been known to drift into other territories simply out of boredom. While there, it is not uncommon for them to terrorize the human population, taking advantage of the fact that they are not on their own land to commit crimes and perpetrate acts of violence.

  In 1995, the New Mexico chapter of the Hell’s Wolves was run out of the state thanks to the Feral Fangs’ actions. The Hell’s Wolves went east, and the Feral Fangs eventually departed the state, but the human population of New Mexico has a record to this day of the crime spree that occurred in that year. Since then, it has not been considered a safe place for wolf shifters to live.

  “Shit,” Fiona whispered.

  The others had been leaning over the book and reading too, and as they looked up, one by one, nobody said anything. They were looking to her. They were waiting for her to tell them how they were going to handle this.

  And Fiona had no idea.

  But something would have to be done. That much was clear. The Feral Fangs were obviously a dangerous pack. They would no doubt engage in crime and violence while they were here, and Fiona couldn’t just sit back and allow that to happen.

  For one thing, they would make the area unsafe for all the humans who lived here. Fiona didn’t have to care about that, strictly speaking—they weren’t a part of her pack—but she did care. She felt a kinship with them. Montana was their home, just as it was hers.

  For another thing, the Feral Fangs posed a threat to her pack directly. If it became obvious that someone was starting trouble in the area, people would start to ask questions about the strange motorcycle gang that lived on the outskirts of town. As things stood, they were largely left alone. But Fiona knew that the Hell’s Wolves fit the profile of a criminal element only too well. That was probably why they’d had to leave New Mexico in 1995. They’d probably fallen under suspicion for something.

  But this was the house they’d lived in since she was a little girl. She had lived here with her father. And more than that, this was her territory. She didn’t want to go down in history as the alpha who lost the Hell’s Wolves a piece of territory that had been theirs for generations. She couldn’t allow that to be her legacy.

  Percy was looking at her as though he expected her to fail.

  She couldn’t let him be right about her.

  “We’re going to have to confront them,” she said. “We’re going to have to fight them, to get them off our land.”

  Percy made an incredulous noise. “Fight them?” he asked. “We can’t hope to fight them, Fiona. Did you see how many of them there were?”

  “I saw,” she said.

  “There are only five of us,” he said. “And only you and I are fighters.”

  “Wes can fight,” Fiona said.

  “Okay, maybe Wes. My point stands. We don’t have a chance against a group that size. And you read what it said about them in the book. They’re used to confrontation. They’re violent. If we try to fight them, people are going to get hurt.” His gaze cut sideways, to Leo.

  Fiona felt her heart twist. He was right. People would get hurt if there was a fight. Her people. It was her job to protect them. There could be no greater failure for an alpha than to allow one of the pack to come to harm. They were depending on her to keep them safe.

  “We’ve got to run,” Percy decided. “It’s the only way.”

  Carla turned to look at him.

  She was taking this seriously. She was considering Percy’s idea, considering it as more than just a suggestion.

  Fiona was on the verge of losing control of her pack.

  She was saved by the door opening. Wes burst in, looking stressed and upset. Fiona jumped up from the table, indicating that he should take her seat. He cast her a grateful look and sat down. Carla turned away from Percy to look at Wes.

  “What happened?” Fiona asked.

  “They knocked over a liquor store,” Wes said. “They shot the guy at the register.”

  “They shot him?” Fiona was stunned. Carrying firearms was unusual for shifters. None of the Hell’s Wolves had them. What would they need them for? They were more than capable of fighting off any predator they might encounter—in wolf form.

  But, she supposed, a wolf was ill equipped to rob a liquor store.

  “Tell me they left town,” she begged Wes.

  He shook his head. “They were well disguised when they committed the crime. They’ve checked into a nice hotel, disguised as a group of businessmen. I don’t think anyone’s going to connect them to what happened. Not for a while. I only know it was them by the scent.”

  “Which means people are going to be looking for the guilty party.” Percy shook his head. “We can’t stay here. We need to leave Montana.”

  He wasn’t even addressing Fiona, she realized. He wasn’t trying to convince her. He was talking to the others. He was trying to convince them.

  He’s trying to overrule me.

  “We’re not leaving,” she said, doing her best to make it a command. She didn’t know if the others felt the weight of it the way they should. She felt insecure, unsure of herself. That could keep her alpha abilities from working fully, she knew. “We’re staying here. We’re going to fight.”

  Wes looked worried. “I don’t think we can take these guys, Fi.”

  “We won’t be alone,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Percy asked.

  “The Wild Grizzlies.”

  There was a collective intake of breath.

  “You can’t be serious,” Percy said.

  “Grizzlies?” Wes asked.

  “It’s their territory too,” Fiona pointed out. “They’re going to have just as much of a problem with the Feral Fangs being here as we do. They’re going to want them out just as much.”

  “So what?” Percy snapped. His neck had gone bright red.

  “So we team up with them,” Fiona said.

  “We team up with bears?” Wes said dubiously.

  “We’ve always gotten al
ong with them,” Fiona pointed out.

  “That’s a pretty generous characterization,” Percy said. “I’d describe it more as managing not to kill each other. And that’s with them a hundred miles away from here. You actually think we can work together?”

  “Against a common enemy?” Fiona said. “Yes. I do. I think we want to stay here, in the land that belonged to our fathers, and I think the Wild Grizzlies probably feel the same way. I think when we tell them that the Feral Fangs are here, they’ll realize that they have just as much to lose as we do, and they’ll want them off our land too. And I’m willing to bet that between our two packs, we have enough strength to fight the Feral Fangs off.”

  Wes was nodding slowly, as if the idea made sense.

  Carla was starting to look convinced too. “We should at least talk to them before we make a decision,” she said.

  Percy scowled. “Nothing good ever came of talking to a bear.”

  “You’re prejudiced,” Fiona said.

  “And you’re crazy.” He shook his head. “Leave it to a woman to think you can handle any problem by making friends.”

  She leveled her gaze at him. “Leave it to a second to run away from a fight,” she said evenly.

  Percy looked as if he might explode, but he fell silent.

  “I’ll ride up to the Wild Grizzlies tomorrow,” Fiona said. “I’ll let them know what’s happened, and we’ll talk about options. Maybe they’ll be willing to help.”

  “You shouldn’t go alone,” Wes said.

  He had a point. Fiona definitely wouldn’t have sent any of the other members of her pack into a bear den alone. But this was different. She needed to prove herself as alpha. She needed to show not only her pack but the Wild Grizzlies that being a woman didn’t mean she wasn’t in control. Taking one of the guys with her would only cut her legs out from under her.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I need the rest of you to stay here and keep an eye on things. Make sure the Feral Fangs don’t find our house and trash it. We’ve got to have our guard up all the time now that we know they’re in the area.”

  The others nodded.

  “If we smelled them on the road,” Fiona said, “then I’m sure they smelled us too. They may not have known this was our territory, but they know we’re here now. And that means it’s only a matter of time before they come looking.”

  Chapter Five

  OWEN

  “It happened again,” Angus said, coming through the front door with an armful of groceries. “In town. Another robbery.”

  Owen, who had been engrossed in a book, set it down. “Another one? The same MO?”

  “The same stench, if that’s what you mean,” Angus said. “Wolves, definitely. They’re all over it.”

  “It’s that pack that lives south of us,” Damon spoke up from where he stood over the stove, frying himself an egg. “Got to be. Town’s right in between us and them, and there are no other wolf shifters around for miles.”

  “We don’t know it’s them,” Owen said.

  Damon scoffed. “Who do you think it was, then? Real wolves?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Owen said.

  “I’m not the one being stupid. We’ve got wolves committing violent crimes in our town, and we know it. People are going to start hunting for the perpetrators. Who do you think they’re going to think it is? Their friends and neighbors? Or the motorcycle gang that lives forty miles outside the city limits and only comes to town to drink? We’re going to get pinned for this unless we put a stop to it fast. We don’t have time to be delicate.”

  “And I’m saying we don’t start a war with the Hell’s Wolves,” Owen said. “Not until we know for sure that they’re behind what’s happening. This is their territory too. There’s been peace between their pack and ours for three generations. We’re not going to fuck that up in a single day”

  “Owen,” Angus said gently. “They’re the ones who ruined the peace between us, if they’re attacking humans now. They’re the ones who started the violence.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Owen asked. “Take us to war?”

  “If the situation calls for it, that’s what you have to do.”

  Owen sighed, got to his feet, and walked out of the kitchen.

  “You can’t ignore this!” Damon called after him. “You wanted to be the alpha. This is part of that. You have to be willing to make the hard decisions that keep our pack alive. We are going to be run out of this state if you’re not willing to take us to battle, Owen!”

  Owen did his best to ignore the shouts of his second in command as he climbed the staircase to his bedroom on the second floor of the house. He went in and threw the deadbolt, giving thanks that he’d thought to have the thing installed when he’d taken over as pack alpha. He had suspected then that he might need privacy someday, although he had never envisioned that need looking like this.

  Was Damon right?

  His instincts cried out against it. Damon was impulsive and hot-headed. Of course he would be eager to go to war. There was probably a part of him that had always wanted to test himself against the Hell’s Wolves. Knowing that they shared territory with a pack of wolf shifters was an uneasy thing, even for Owen himself. Wolves were difficult to trust.

  But the peace between them had lasted so long. Was it really possible that, after all these years, the Hell’s Wolves had turned violent? It seemed unlikely—but then, anything was possible. The nature of packs tended to change when new leaders took over. If Damon were to take over the Wild Grizzlies today, Owen thought, his own pack would become much more aggressive in nature.

  So maybe somebody new was in charge. Somebody who didn’t care about civility, about keeping quiet and letting the neighboring humans live their lives. And if that was the case, maybe that person wouldn’t care about maintaining peace between the Hell’s Wolves and the Wild Grizzlies.

  If there was going to be war between the two packs, Owen thought, if war was inevitable, then he would prefer to strike first.

  But if there was any way war could be avoided, he certainly didn’t want to provoke the wolves.

  It was Angus’ words that troubled him, far more than anything Damon had said. They’re the ones who ruined the peace between us. He seemed not to question that that was the case. He seemed to believe, as Damon did, that the fragile peace had been shattered. That the Hell’s Wolves had gone bad.

  Damon was impetuous and eager to jump at the most dramatic interpretation of any series of events. But Angus was calm and measured. If even he thought the worst, then perhaps it was worth taking seriously.

  Owen sighed and sat down on his bed. What am I supposed to do? Of course he would have done anything to protect his pack, to guard their territory. But which course of action would best do that?

  No one said being alpha would be easy.

  No, no one had said that. But Owen had to admit that he had hoped it would be easier than this. He had hoped the necessary decisions would come more naturally to him, that when faced with a dilemma like this he would have some kind of instinct for what needed to be done.

  That didn’t seem to be the case.

  Or perhaps it was. Perhaps it was instinct that told him to do nothing, to wait and see. To hold off on the plan of attacking the Hell’s Wolves until he could be absolutely sure of their guilt.

  He knew what Damon would say. That’s not instinct, that’s cowardice.

  Owen searched his feelings. Was he afraid to face the wolves?

  He certainly didn’t relish the idea. But he wasn’t worried about what would happen to him if there was a fight. He was far more worried about his packmates, especially Joel, Riley, and Nova. They were all so young. They had never been in a real fight before. And wolves fought very differently from bears. Wolves were fast.

  So really, wasn’t it just sensible to fear a fight?

  Owen didn’t know. He didn’t know if he was making good choices in his pack’s best interest or if he was just sh
ying away from what needed to be done. Not for the first time, he wished that someone else could advise him, give him some idea of what he should do.

  Shape it up, he told himself firmly. It’s like Damon said, isn’t it? You’re the alpha. It’s your job to make these choices for everyone. You can’t start wishing you had someone else to do the hard work for you every time a tough decision comes along.

  He sighed. Bears were pack animals. Yes, there was an alpha, but part of the joy of belonging to a pack was being able to rely on your packmates for things. Being alpha set him apart in a way that had always been, and likely would always be, very uncomfortable.

  But somebody had to do it. Somebody had to step to the plate. Owen was the one who had been born with the alpha gene, and he knew he was good at what he did. The Wild Grizzlies couldn’t have a better alpha.

  It definitely wouldn’t be any better if Damon was in charge, he reassured himself. He’d be rushing in there, half cocked, without so much as a plan of attack. We’d be halfway to the Hell’s Wolves already right now if it was up to him.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said.

  The door rattled in the frame, and Owen remembered the deadbolt. He got to his feet and crossed the room to open it.

  Joel stood in the doorway, looking nervous. “Are you angry?” he asked.

  “No,” Owen said. “Of course not. Just...thinking.”

  “I don’t think Damon meant to upset you,” Joel said.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Owen wasn’t sure of that at all, but he didn’t want to sow divisiveness between Joel and Damon. He knew Joel looked up to Damon, and it was a good thing for him to have a role model.

  Besides, he thought, if I make it clear that everyone has to choose a side, mine or Damon’s...people might start choosing Damon’s side. And a rivalry within our pack is the very last thing we need at a time like this.

  “I came up to tell you that...” Joel swallowed. “We just got a phone call.”

  “A phone call?” Owen frowned. “Who even has our number?” The Wild Grizzlies had two cell phones, which the pack shared between them. When everyone was home, as they were now, the phones lived on chargers in the kitchen. In the entire time since they had been purchased, neither phone had placed or received a call to any other. The only communication they were used for was between the two of them.