Page 22 of Plug and Claim

Kira stood her ground, feeling confused. Why was Chelsea suddenly so defensive? She’d been introducing herself only a moment ago. Adopting a polite but loud tone, she said, “I’d like to speak with your alpha.”

Several sets of yellow eyes turned towards them.

“What are you doing?” Susie gasped as Chelsea’s human lips drew back in a snarl.

“Forget it,” Chelsea snapped. “You are meeting no one. You are no one.”

“I’m not discussing this with a beta,” Kira said. Unlike Chelsea, she had no rank. This was an obvious disadvantage, except in one aspect: without a rank, there was no protocol as to who, if anyone, she had to defer to. It was not her pack. Yet. Kira turned to face the pack, ignoring Chelsea to address them. “I wish to speak with your alpha, and no one else.”

A hushed silence fell as the entire pack looked at her. It was a bold move, but Kira had met enough people like Chelsea to know there was no point negotiating.

Chelsea growled like a wolf. “Final warning.”

Kira hesitated. She did not want to fight on her first day, not when her fighting experience was limited to the training she’d done with Byron. They’d covered hand-to-hand combat and trained with knives, but most of her combat training relied on her wolf form—and that was a secret she could not reveal.

But she wouldn’t back down either.

Chelsea’s aura pulsed with a golden glow, a sign that she was preparing to shift. “You think I won’t?”

Kira smiled. “I dare you.”

Apparently, Chelsea wasn’t bluffing. Dense fur erupted across her face and body in a shimmer of gold light, and she emerged in wolf form, pointed ears lowered and sharp teeth bared as she pounced.

Kira dodged, shifting her weight on other back foot. As the wolf sailed past, she kicked it in the midriff.

Chelsea yelped and whirled around, razor-sharp teeth bared threateningly.

Kira backed away. She didn't have a knife, but she knew where a wolf’s weak spots were, including the tail. Pulling that could cause serious injury, and she would avoid grabbing it unless she absolutely had to.

It depended how dirty Chelsea wanted to fight.

A crowd was gathering around them as Chelsea lunged for her foot, barrelling forward.

Kira stayed light on her feet, leaping up in a smooth jump that brought her back down on Chelsea's back. She managed two swift punches before the wolf threw her off.

Kira rolled as she fell, the manoeuvre not quite as smooth as she practiced as her shoulder clipped the edge of a pillar painfully.

She was back on her feet in an instant, but not quickly enough. Suddenly, the wolf hit her hard in the chest, sending her flying backwards. There was no time to shift, or to even brace herself as she fell against the hard marble floor, her head cracking against the tiles as the heavy wolf landed on her. She cried out in alarm, angling her head away from Chelsea’s gnashing teeth.

“Enough,” said a deep voice, calm but commanding.

Chelsea’s weight lifted off her immediately. By the time Kira pushed herself up into a sitting position, the skinny woman was already back in human form, sauntering away in victory with her pigtails swaying in time to her hips and pleated skirt.

Kira swallowed and gazed up at her saviour—a large, broad-shouldered student with a square face and chin. He was older, probably a seventh-year student, and he was easy on the eyes, with sandy hair, a relaxed expression, broad shoulders and bulging muscles to spare.

“You have my attention,” he said, gazing down at her. “Kira, was it?”

“Yes.”

“Kira,” he repeated with a smile, rolling the syllables as if savouring her name. “And are you all right, Kira?”

“F-fine,” she said, hurrying to stand.

The male wolf was faster, scooping her up so quickly she gasped. He set her back on her feet. “Are you hurt?”

“No, not at all. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” He offered her a perfect white smile. “I apologise for the rude introduction. Chelsea thinks she runs the pack.”