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“You want a fight?” Connor said, magic spilling around them, taut and angry. “I’d be happy to oblige.”
“A fight wouldn’t be enough, would it?” Cade asked, his own power surging now and fighting back against Connor’s—a battle within a battle. “Not without making it official.”
That’s when I realized this was exactly what Cade had planned. It was smart; I hadn’t given him enough credit.
Connor realized it, too, his jaw quivering from the effort of not saying the word that Cade longed to hear. The word that held power.
Challenge.
The crowd moved behind me, but I ignored them and kept my gaze on the men. This fight would inevitably affect all our futures.
Connor watched Cade, eyes glittering, and grabbed the bullhorn from Theo, thrust it toward Cade. “Say the words, big man.”
Cade took it, and there was only a moment’s fear and hesitation in his eyes before he raised it. “I, Cade Drummond, hereby challenge Connor Keene for the throne of the North American Central Pack.”
The world went silent.
And then wheels began to squeak.
We looked back, found Dan pushing a stainless cart topped with catering pans through the garage doors. He wore an apron—and made it look stylish—and used two fingers to whistle so loudly half the shifters covered their ears.
“Dinner’s ready!” he called out. “And it’s on the house!”
I wouldn’t call it a stampede, which was probably fortunate. But more than a few shifters ambled—some drunkenly—toward the intoxicating smell of barbecue.
Connor watched them for a moment, something softening in his eyes. Then he took the bullhorn from Cade, handed it back to Theo, nodded.
Theo held it up, turned it on again. “You get off the street and eat this, or you go into the tank until you’re sober. Make your choices.”
A few threw punches at the CPD officers who maintained order; they’d be spending more than a few hours in a cell. But most went quietly, opting for pulled pork and brisket. Cade, Joe, and Breonna went off in their own direction. They had preparations to make, no doubt.
Connor stood in the street until every shifter was in the building or out of the neighborhood, and the lights in the town houses went dark.
I went to him, took his hand. He interlaced our fingers, squeezed tightly.
Together, we stood in silence, and considered what might come next.
Because after this, nothing was going to be the same.
***
The night felt so long, and dawn was nearly here. But it wasn’t over yet. I still had to talk to Lulu, and that needed to happen tonight.
She’d opted to go to the loft so she could feed the cat, so I left Connor at the Pack and took an Auto back to our neighborhood. I stared morosely out the window the entire drive. And was alternatingly worried, sad, and furious.
I keyed into the loft and found Alexei on the floor at the end of the hallway dangling a toy that Eleanor of Aquitaine was dancing to get at.
“Hi,” I said, and closed and locked the door. “You heard?”
“I heard,” he said as Eleanor of Aquitaine pawed at a bobbingfeather. And looked really cute doing it. That was undoubtedly a ploy. A distraction. Or maybe she just liked him.
“Have they set a date for the fight?” Alexei asked.
“Not yet. The family needs to talk, make some decisions since the Apex isn’t back yet. How’s Lulu?”
“She’s... doing some reading.”
“Ah,” I said, as if I understood. But I didn’t. Lulu wasn’t much of a reader.
