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The entire crowd has gone eerily silent. And maybe it’s because I’m so in tune with my mate, but all I can hear is his heavy breathing as he comes down from his kill and not a damn thing else.
Theo deserved his brutal end. Every shifter in the district knows that. Understands that. Don’t challenge a dominant wolf unless you’re prepared to risk your life.
And... I am. Why else would I throw the gauntlet down and challenge the Wicked Wolf like that? Not because I’m suicidal, or because I want to throw my future with Ryker away. Nope. It’s because, deep down, I know that twenty-five days would never be enough for the cruel Alpha. Twenty-five years wouldn’t be enough. Like Elizabeth and Trish, I’d be trapped here. Another prisoner. Whether it was a gilded cage or a silver-lined cell, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.
Ryker stopped him from selling me to the highest bidder when he accepted his challenge. Theo is dead, but we both know that there’s always another wolf willing to tame a female alpha. Shane was the first one. Theo, the next. And now that it’s clear that not even a bonded mate is sacred to Jack Walker…
I really have no choice. Either I risk my life now in an alpha challenge or I go back to living it while looking over my shoulder, always waiting for his next move.
And there would be one. No doubt about that. Whether he made off with another packmate, harassed me in Muncie, finding another vampire that was willing to help him wage the next Claws and Fangs war… he would never stop. Until he got what he wanted from me, he’d keep pushing and pushing.
It’s time to push back.
As I stand there, staring at the smirk slowly growing on his face, I think of my mom. Of how just the memory of this bastard still terrorizes her more than twenty-five years later. Of my dad, who will never come out and admit it, but who regrets not finishing Walker off when he had the chance, even if my mom didn’t want him to.
I think of Trish, caught in the crosshairs of the Wicked Wolf’s plan. Of Elizabeth, who fell for his sociopathic charm only to be trapped under his claw these last few years. Of the close to one hundred and twenty Betas who deserved a better Alpha, and the packmates who suffered with him as a leader.
I think of Ryker, who is a shining example of what a true alpha is like, and who will probably be chomping at the bit to interfere in this fight, to stop me, but who won’t because he understands that I’m an alpha, too, and this is my challenge.
Desperation mingled with pride and another emotion I can’t quite place comes pulsing down our bond. I can’t look down in the pit. I sense him, I know he’s there, but my gaze is firmly on Walker. I don’t even freaking blink. Even if the words weren’t enough, the prolonged eye contact with a dominant wolf is as much of a challenge.
Now all I need is for him to accept it.
It’s not just an alpha challenge—it’s an Alpha challenge. The only one who can answer it is Walker, and once I threw the challenge down, there’s no taking it back unless he refuses it. And if there’s one thing I know about my bio-dad, it’s that he’s never once refused any of the countless challenges he’s been in.
He steps down from his platform. Like me, he keeps his eyes open as he returns my stare. Mine are burning. I want so badly to blink, but I know I can’t. One of us will have to first. It’s inevitable.
Walker clears his throat.
You could hear a pin drop. Even Ryker controls his breathing so that there’s no missing it when Walker holds out his arms and says, “A king versus a goddess reborn. It should be an interesting challenge.” His eyes—the same ones I see when I look in the mirror—flash in anticipation. “I accept. Clear the pit.”
I always guessed that the Wicked Wolf thought of himself as a shifter king, with his packmates as his subjects instead of the shifters he’s supposed to protect as Alpha. The goddess crack is obvious. As a female alpha, my mom always warned me that other wolves would see me as the Luna reborn. An interesting challenge… yeah. I think he’s right about that.
I hunch my shoulders, mimicking Ryker’s pose from his challenge. My fingers flex, my claws unsheathe, and I wait for Walker to make his first move.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Christian and Joshua jump down into the pit and approach Ryker. He’s bristling in ill-disguised rage as they reach for him. Shaking them off, he leaps out of the pit, lurking on the edge so that he can’t miss a second of what’s about to transpire.
Now, according to pack tradition, the form that an Alpha begins the challenge in is supposed to be the one they stay in. There are exceptions, and I’ve already been witness to a couple of them.
During my Luna Ceremony, Shane started in his skin, but when it became obvious that Ryker was holding back, he snapped and shifted. Ryker never did. At least, not completely. Up until the moment that he tore his ex-friend apart, I really believe that Ryker thought Shane was worth saving. So he engaged in a partial shift, turning his hands into powerful paws with lethal claws, like what I’m doing now, and that was still enough for him to win.
Only minutes ago, Theo pulled the same stunt. He could have chosen fur right away. Instead, he struck out with his human hands before shifting as a wolf. I’m almost positive that he heard about Ryker and Shane’s challenge and expected my mate to treat him the same way.
Yeah. That didn’t happen… and now Theo is dead, too.
Watching as the Alpha steps easily into the pit, I have to wonder: how is Walker going to react?
I don’t know, but I’m ready for it.
He gives me an appraising look, then takes a few lazy steps toward me. I know what he sees, and I know that—despite me being an alpha like him—he’s not even a little worried about this challenge. Why would he be? He has a good foot of height on me, he has at least a hundred pounds more in muscle, plus decades of battle experience. He’s also a born killer and a sadistic bastard. He threatened to drown me once when I was a pup. What’s going to stop him from putting me down now that I’m an adult?
Nothing. And, seconds later, he proves it.
Walker doesn’t even pretend that he’s staying in his skin. In a burst of exploded clothing and boots, a massive wolf takes his place in the pit. In his shifted form, he’s almost twice my size, but if I thought that meant he would be notably slow, I’m totally wrong.
Powerful legs bunch as he launches across the pit at me.
I have just enough time to give control over to my wolf before he’s on me. As a human, he could’ve gone for a vital organ immediately; as a wolf, I’m smaller, quicker, and more feral. He wants to fight in his fur? He might be huge, but in this form, I have at least some advantage.
