He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, glancing at the men on either side of him. None of them looked at him. I didn’t know if that was because they didn’t support him or because they didn’t want me to think he had their support.
“Anax, you have changed this country,” Wally said finally. “Some of us question whether it has been for the better. Alphas have been killed or ejected from their packs. An Arkhon was killed. People have been moved around. The status quo has been erased.”
“I see.” I folded my arms and regarded him. He bowed his head even further. No matter how pissy he was about me being in this rank, he still couldn’t meet my gaze. That was fine with me. “Allow me to respond to your points. Alphas have been killed or ejected from their packs for abusing their pack members and/or causing harm to members of other packs. In particular, Jack Leary was sentenced to death for sexually abusing multiple women in Berkshires Pack and for ordering human women to be changed for the specific purpose of providing him with more unwilling sexual partners. Prescott Thibeault was stripped of his rank for giving sanctuary to Jack Leary after he fled to avoid justice. Those are two of the ones you meant, are they not?”
My voice was rising along with my temper, and I took a second to try to settle both the hell down. In this setting, I couldn’t afford the show of emotion. Anger was more acceptable than most feelings, but even that could be seen as weakness if exhibited at the wrong time. This moment, when I was faced with questions about the actions I’d taken as Anax, was definitely the wrong time.
“Yes, Anax,” Wally mumbled.
“The Arkhon who was killed, Irving Macomber, challengedme for rank,” I continued when I was sure my voice would be steady. “He died in the fight. The expected outcome when a challenge fight occurs, particularly for a rank such as Anax. Had he not died, I would have. It happened that I took the upper hand in the fight and was the victor. Therefore, Irving died. His death was not murder, not a consequence, but simply the way a challenge fight ends. Do you dispute that?”
“No, Anax.” His voice was even lower.
“I understand that there are those among you who believe we were better off under Hezekiah as our Anax.” I paused to scan the group. Most of them were looking down. Zane and Paul met my gaze, or at least came close enough to reassure me. “Perhaps we were. But consider that he ordered more than one Arkhon or Alpha to kill those under their rule simply because he didn’t feel like trying to mediate a conflict. He caused the deaths of the alphas of Champlain and Saint Lawrence packs and several of their pack members by compelling a Champlain wolf to sabotage the vehicle those wolves were using to travel to the regional gathering.”
Audible gasps filled the room. That was a little tidbit of information I hadn’t shared with most of the country’s werewolves, something I’d learned when we pursued Jack Leary to Prescott Thibeault’s home. Since those deaths, just before I became Arkhon of the Northeast Region, I’d believed there was more to the situation than a simple car accident. At Prescott’s home, one of his trackers had confessed to sabotaging the vehicle, causing an accident that had taken the lives of not only two alphas and six or seven other werewolves but four humans as well.
“Yes,” I said when the reaction died down. “A member of Champlain Pack admitted to me that he was coerced into releasing air from the tires of the van those wolves were using. As the tires went flat, the van became impossible to steer on the snow and ice covered roads in upstate New York. The accident was a result of sabotage. The sabotage was directed by Hezekiah Wheelwright.”
“Anax, if I may.” Odin Cardona, the current Alpha ofChamplain Pack, stood. I nodded. “The Anax is speaking the truth. Prescott Thibeault, then Beta of our pack, under orders or compulsion by the prior Anax, ordered two of our trackers to slash the tires on that vehicle. Some of you may say that the accusation against the former Anax is unsubstantiated, or that he isn’t here to defend himself. I believe what I have learned.”
“Thank you, Alpha,” I said. He nodded and sat back down.
I studied the crowd again. Fewer of them were looking at me now. Some appeared flustered, probably those who had believed Hezekiah was the one true Anax. Given that he’d held the rank for over a century, their belief wasn’t entirely surprising. Some people just didn’t deal well with change, and a change from the person who had led the country’s werewolves for over a hundred years was a pretty huge adjustment.
“I have replaced some alphas,” I said. “I have found those who were abusing their pack members and invited them to leave. Some chose to have their lives ended rather than depart the packs they controlled. They caused irreparable harm, and someone who would harm another for their own amusement or gratification has no place leading a pack. Some of you would disagree with that. Some of you may fit that description and not agree with my choice because you know you might be the next to be removed.”
I didn’t know for sure about any abusers among those who were currently facing me, but as I scanned the group again, a couple of the alphas fidgeted and cast sideways glances. I made a note of who they were so I could try to speak to their pack members privately. Not that I would probably have much luck. Those pack members were present because their Alpha had chosen them, for whatever reason, and they were unlikely to speak against the person who had brought them to the gathering.
“Are there others among you who share Wally’s opinion that I am not the Anax this country needs?” I leaned forward slightly. I was taking one hell of a risk asking that question, but I was through waiting around for others to turn on me. If they had something to say, a challenge to issue, bullshit to spew, they could do it now.
I hoped no one would say anything, but of course that was too much to ask for. Edward Cutler stood. Fidgeting, he stared down at the table. I knew what he was going to say before the words came out of his mouth.
“Tobias Rogan, Anax of the United States, I challengeyou for rank.”
Chapter Eleven
Shit. Shit. Shit!I couldn’t let myself swear out loud, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t rant in my head. I’d anticipated the challenge, but I had so desperately wanted to be wrong. To believe that those who sat here—especially Edward, given that only that morning he had said he didn’t want to remove me from my rank—wouldn’t take this step.
But here we were, and there was nothing I could do. A challenge, once issued, had to be answered. I could refuse to fight, but that would diminish me in their eyes. A refusal was seen as weakness, regardless of the reason for it. If you believed you could fight, you fought. Full stop.
“Edward Cutler, Arkhon of the Southeast Region, I accept your challenge.” The ceremonial words found their way out of my mouth with little conscious thought on my part, and I heard my own voice as if it came through a tunnel. “Where and when shall we fight?”
Edward hesitated. He didn’t know this property, of course. It was the first time any of the arkhons other than Zane had been here. He didn’t know where a fight could or should occur.
“I leave that choice to you, Anax,” he said finally. “As this is your home and you are more familiar with the grounds than I.”
“Very well.” I took a slow breath. I could put this off. Delay ituntil after the meeting, after I’d heard all the state-of-the-whatever reports that the arkhons and alphas were waiting to present. Hell, if I wanted to, I could make Edward wait until the last day of the gathering, after all the meetings, after the hunt.
But I wouldn’t do that because that, too, would show weakness. Reluctance to fight would be seen as doubt that I could win, not as a desire to avoid bloodshed.
“We will fight on the back lawn in thirty minutes,” I said. “That will give you time to speak to the guest you brought with you.” He’d brought a woman who was presumably from his territory; he’d introduced her as Marigold and had given no indication of who she was to him. I knew only that they didn’t appear to be mates. “Arkhon, I grant you the decision of who will be present for the fight.”
“Thank you, Anax.” He stumbled over the words. Had he expected fury? Refusal? Who the hell knew, but it was obvious that my calm responses and the fact that I was sticking to formal language were throwing him. I didn’t have a problem with that. If he was thrown, he would make mistakes in the fight.
I didn’t want to win because my opponent screwed up, but I would take it.
“I ask that all arkhons and the alphas of the Southeast Region be present,” he said finally. “Your mate may also be present if you wish, Anax. I have no objection.”
