I opened the door and stepped onto the porch, forcing my pulse to stop tripping over itself. Marc and Jace took up positions on either side of me, and the others fanned out around us, except for my mother, who stood firm to one side of the steps in front of the porch railing. It was clearer in that moment than ever before where most of my pride and obduracy had come from.
“Ms. Sanders…” Malone crossed his arms over a button-down shirt with both sleeves rolled up, in spite of the cold. Maybe hotheaded was a more accurate description of him than we’d ever really guessed.
The line of cars stretched out to his right, around the circle driveway and trailing onto the long gravel drive itself. Men were getting out, slamming doors, and I only recognized about half of them.
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring down at him from the porch. “You said we’d have until Saturday.”
“No, I said you’d have until you buried your father, and there’s a patch of freshly overturned earth beneath that apple tree—” he pointed toward where my father now lay alongside Ethan for all of eternity “—that says that mission’s been accomplished. So…have you come up with a suitable Alpha for your Pride?”
“I am Alpha of the south-central Pride. That was my father’s dying wish, and I will honor it.”
“Until your last breath, no doubt,” Malone mumbled, barely moving his lips as he stepped toward the porch, stopping directly in front of the bottom step.
“That’s the general idea.” I glanced at Alex, expecting him to join his father. But Alex wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t even look up from his shoes.
Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good.
Malone half turned and nodded to one of his men, and Parker’s brother stepped forward, spine stiff, gaze boring into mine. He was the oldest of the Pierce boys, and a full decade my senior. But I couldn’t quite remember his name…
“I challenge your leadership of the south-central Pride. One-on-one. Winner becomes Alpha.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Parker beat me to it. “Kent, you son of a bitch, I’ll kill you for this.”
I glanced at Parker to find his jaws tight, his arms bulging through the material of his shirt, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. And suddenly I understood how Kenton Pierce—that was his name—had risen so quickly into Malone’s good graces. And how Malone had known about the secret funeral.
Kent didn’t answer his brother, so I made the only reply I could—my only option, other than handing over the Pride, my father’s life’s work, to a man I’d rarely ever spoken to. “I accept.”
I’d never seen Kent fight, so I had no idea what his strengths and weaknesses were. But he clearly had the greater strength, size, and experience. All I had was an ironclad determination to win. To keep my Pride intact and protect my family.
Kent nodded, his expression notably absent of satisfaction, or even anticipation. He didn’t look particularly happy to be challenging for Alpha status, but obviously Malone had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. At least, not if he wanted to live.
Too bad I’d have to kill him, anyway.
“This is your home turf—for the moment,” Kent said, making no move to take off his jacket or prepare for the imminent ass kicking. “Do you have a forum preference? Maybe the barn?”
“No.” The barn had walls. And stalls. And countless other physical elements that could be used against me. The best way to eat away at his advantages would be to deprive him of all of that. “Right there.” I pointed to the circle of brown grass at the center of the driveway loop.
Kenton twisted to look, then nodded, apparently satisfied. “That will work. Dean?” He made a broad, one-handed gesture, and Colin Dean jogged into the center of the circle, then turned to watch me. Waiting.
It actually took me several seconds to understand. Then Kent was kind enough to state it for me. “Colin Dean will fight for the challenger.”
“What?” I tore my irate gaze from Dean—who gloated at me from thirty feet away—to frown at Kenton Pierce. “You’re not going to fight? And you picked Colin Dean as your…champion?” There were so many things wrong with that statement. “What, are you too scared to fight me yourself?”
Kent scowled, then glanced briefly at his father before turning back to me. “Of course not. I’m simply utilizing the resources at my disposal.”
“You practiced that, didn’t you?” I forced a cold smile. “I bet you have it written down on a note card in your pocket, and I bet the handwriting isn’t yours. Did they make you memorize it? Did they tell you what to say after I kick your ass? Assuming you’re still capable of speech?”
Behind me, Jace chuckled, but Kent glowered, his face scarlet beneath the burn of humiliation. And if he hadn’t hated me before, he might now. “Does that mean you’re fighting for yourself?”
“Yeah. That’s kind of this thing I do. You probably shouldn’t try it, though. Cowards tend to break beneath the burden.” I was trying to piss him off, practically daring him to fight me himself.
But Dean wouldn’t stand for it. “We’ll see who’s broken in a few minutes,” he called, drawing my attention from the obviously irritated Kenton Pierce. “Pick your form—fur or flesh?”
Shit. Dean was at least double my weight and had ten inches on me in height. I’d only been able to take him in human form the first time because I caught him by surprise, and the second time because I turned his own knife against him—we had yet to actually exchange blows.
“Ms. Sanders…” Malone crossed his arms over a button-down shirt with both sleeves rolled up, in spite of the cold. Maybe hotheaded was a more accurate description of him than we’d ever really guessed.
The line of cars stretched out to his right, around the circle driveway and trailing onto the long gravel drive itself. Men were getting out, slamming doors, and I only recognized about half of them.
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring down at him from the porch. “You said we’d have until Saturday.”
“No, I said you’d have until you buried your father, and there’s a patch of freshly overturned earth beneath that apple tree—” he pointed toward where my father now lay alongside Ethan for all of eternity “—that says that mission’s been accomplished. So…have you come up with a suitable Alpha for your Pride?”
“I am Alpha of the south-central Pride. That was my father’s dying wish, and I will honor it.”
“Until your last breath, no doubt,” Malone mumbled, barely moving his lips as he stepped toward the porch, stopping directly in front of the bottom step.
“That’s the general idea.” I glanced at Alex, expecting him to join his father. But Alex wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t even look up from his shoes.
Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good.
Malone half turned and nodded to one of his men, and Parker’s brother stepped forward, spine stiff, gaze boring into mine. He was the oldest of the Pierce boys, and a full decade my senior. But I couldn’t quite remember his name…
“I challenge your leadership of the south-central Pride. One-on-one. Winner becomes Alpha.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Parker beat me to it. “Kent, you son of a bitch, I’ll kill you for this.”
I glanced at Parker to find his jaws tight, his arms bulging through the material of his shirt, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. And suddenly I understood how Kenton Pierce—that was his name—had risen so quickly into Malone’s good graces. And how Malone had known about the secret funeral.
Kent didn’t answer his brother, so I made the only reply I could—my only option, other than handing over the Pride, my father’s life’s work, to a man I’d rarely ever spoken to. “I accept.”
I’d never seen Kent fight, so I had no idea what his strengths and weaknesses were. But he clearly had the greater strength, size, and experience. All I had was an ironclad determination to win. To keep my Pride intact and protect my family.
Kent nodded, his expression notably absent of satisfaction, or even anticipation. He didn’t look particularly happy to be challenging for Alpha status, but obviously Malone had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. At least, not if he wanted to live.
Too bad I’d have to kill him, anyway.
“This is your home turf—for the moment,” Kent said, making no move to take off his jacket or prepare for the imminent ass kicking. “Do you have a forum preference? Maybe the barn?”
“No.” The barn had walls. And stalls. And countless other physical elements that could be used against me. The best way to eat away at his advantages would be to deprive him of all of that. “Right there.” I pointed to the circle of brown grass at the center of the driveway loop.
Kenton twisted to look, then nodded, apparently satisfied. “That will work. Dean?” He made a broad, one-handed gesture, and Colin Dean jogged into the center of the circle, then turned to watch me. Waiting.
It actually took me several seconds to understand. Then Kent was kind enough to state it for me. “Colin Dean will fight for the challenger.”
“What?” I tore my irate gaze from Dean—who gloated at me from thirty feet away—to frown at Kenton Pierce. “You’re not going to fight? And you picked Colin Dean as your…champion?” There were so many things wrong with that statement. “What, are you too scared to fight me yourself?”
Kent scowled, then glanced briefly at his father before turning back to me. “Of course not. I’m simply utilizing the resources at my disposal.”
“You practiced that, didn’t you?” I forced a cold smile. “I bet you have it written down on a note card in your pocket, and I bet the handwriting isn’t yours. Did they make you memorize it? Did they tell you what to say after I kick your ass? Assuming you’re still capable of speech?”
Behind me, Jace chuckled, but Kent glowered, his face scarlet beneath the burn of humiliation. And if he hadn’t hated me before, he might now. “Does that mean you’re fighting for yourself?”
“Yeah. That’s kind of this thing I do. You probably shouldn’t try it, though. Cowards tend to break beneath the burden.” I was trying to piss him off, practically daring him to fight me himself.
But Dean wouldn’t stand for it. “We’ll see who’s broken in a few minutes,” he called, drawing my attention from the obviously irritated Kenton Pierce. “Pick your form—fur or flesh?”
Shit. Dean was at least double my weight and had ten inches on me in height. I’d only been able to take him in human form the first time because I caught him by surprise, and the second time because I turned his own knife against him—we had yet to actually exchange blows.
