The dirt road finally gives way to a paved street lined with a dense collection of rustic homes that house the pack. The grounds look like a small village that’s managed to cram itself in the open spaces between the trees, the forest still clearly master of these lands.
Equal amounts of people and wolves mull around going about their business. There are adults sitting out on their porches keeping an eye on the pack’s young. Children finally able to hold their human form rolling around with the pups in the yards. There are no fences, no separation, between one home and the next, bleeding into each other and the trees that surround them.
This drive is always the loneliest, seeing how the pack takes care of one another. The Alpha family home is at the very end of the street, the deepest into pack lands, and each time I come and go, I’m forced to see exactly what I've cut myself away from. It hurts far less than it used to, the connection I have to them feeling like a thin thread-- and since meeting Callie, ready to be cut loose. I barely feel the Alpha’s magic anymore. The force that binds the pack together and keeps us strong, but also holds us to the Alpha’s will.
I park on the street, choosing to walk up the long driveway, instead of risking getting boxed in by some idiot that wants to subtly prove their loyalty to the Alpha. What better way than being an asshole to the unwanted son?
The waning afternoon light barely escapes the overcast clouds and the thick overhang of leaves, making it darker than it should be at 4 pm. Even at the base of the drive, the house is clearly visible, because unlike the rest of the pack’s homes, this is a three-storied small mansion built literally into the trees-- and more than thirty feet off the ground. Good for protection and a sign of dominance.
When I make it to the end, there’s a small group of people waiting for their audience with the Alpha to solve their complaints. My half-brothers stand at the bottom of the stairs, ensuring no one can go up to the main house unless authorized. They’re from the Alpha’s first marriage-- a natural born wolf that died within a year of having the twins. Cancer.
Their appearance favors their mother more than the Alpha-- paler skin, sharper features, and straight dark brown hair. Honestly, the only way anyone can see we’re related is our eyes and our build. Same height, same lean bodies, but they’re soft where I’ve grown hard. Their muscles built from vanity instead of survival.They’ve had every advantage, and I could break them both like twigs.
I cut my way through the crowd until I’m at the front of the line, ignoring growls and grunts of protest, and the twin assholes, of course, block my way from going up.
“Need to see him,” I sigh, not wanting to do this dumbass circle jerk, but knowing I have to.
“So do all these other people,” Bayne replies with a smartass grin.
“Yeah, wait your turn,” Daveth adds, forever an echo chamber for whatever his elder brother says.
I roll my eyes, then grit my teeth in an attempt to keep my frustration from showing. As much as I just want to barge through them, it’ll only make this bullshit take longer.
“I. Live. Here,” I state like I’m talking to a slow toddler.
“Do you?” Bayne taunts, narrowing his deep-set, auburn eyes like he’s trying to recall the information.
“Yeah, do you?” Daveth echoes, puffing out his chest to appear more intimidating than he is.
“Let me in,” I grunt, not playing their dumbass game.
“Or you’ll do what, outcast?” Bayne challenges, visibly enjoying being a pain in my ass.
Before Daveth can parrot his brother, with blurring speed, I make a sharp chop to his larynx, causing him to double over, coughing and gasping for air. Then I slowly step into Bayne’s personal space, my face inches from him, and quietly murmur, “Don’t fuck with me.”
He’s either brave or stupid because he doesn’t back down, meeting my glare with one of his own, then after a few sniffs, a smug smile pulls at his thin lips.
“Is that witch I smell on you?” he sneers, with an interested light sparking in his eyes. “You some witch’s bitch now, outcast? Tell me you at least get a pity fuck out of the deal.”
I feel like I’ve been shot, and real fear claws at my insides. Callie’s scent is all over me from holding her this morning. Her tears that fell on my shoulder, her hair that wove through my flannel, her face pressed to my neck, even her core pressed against my stomach when she wrapped her legs around my waist, all of it are strong indicators of her presence. Hell, she practically scent marked me. And despite the idiot’s condemnation, The Call my wolf feels for Callie could only come from one genetic source… the one I share with these assholes.
I back away as if I can hide her scent with distance, even though logically I know it’s too late, but I can’t let them find her… I can’t trust The Call to be enough to protect her.
My wolf climbs its way to the surface, pushing against my skin, ready to eliminate these threats against ourReina. A deep guttural growl of warning rumbles in my chest. I know this is not the right way to handle the situation. My reaction only highlights there’s something important about this scent, but instinct is much faster than logic.
The small waiting crowd sniffs the air, and it’s like watching a noxious gas spread through them, their faces souring and real hate clouding their eyes.
A cold sweat builds on the back of my neck, and unconsciously, I spread my stance, hands already clenched into fists, readying myself for whatever comes next. I expect possibly being jumped. Maybe chased off pack lands, and I’ll have to sneak back in the middle of the night to check in.
Unfortunately, it’s one of the betas that steps forward just off a shift from monitoring the grounds. He’s bulkier than the average wolf, barrel-chested and thicker through the arms and shoulders. It’s clear that just looking at him is usually intimidating enough to keep our people in line and scare off anyone that doesn’t belong.
“You’ve disrespected this pack for the last time, pup,” he grunts, the crowd quickly parting to let him through. “The son of our Alpha choosing a witch over his pack.”
I’d snort at thepupdig if his intent wasn’t so obvious in his gaze. This is not going to end well.Don’t do it. Don’t make me…
“I formally challenge Connor Lopez,” he announces, stoic and sure-- stupidly believing he can win against me.
Everyone falls silent, the cold winds shaking through the leaves and the distant noises of our oblivious community the only sounds that puncture the air. Unlike the rest of the pack where a challenge can end when one party yields, ever since I’ve been able to hold my own in the ring, the Alpha has made it clear that with me it’s always a challenge to the death.
