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Margo looked over her shoulder at me and shrugged. “It’s not like they kill each other. Besides, it’s just in wolves’ nature to want the strongest wolf as their leader. We like to know that they can protect and provide for us as an alpha. It works out for the packs because there’s no monarchy or diplomacy involved. Only the strongest.”
Imagining Ridge fighting another wolf and how hurt he could get had me cringing. I couldn’t handle that sort of battle, but Margo had said he hadn’t become alpha in the normal way.
“What if the alpha was a tyrant but stronger than everybody else? What then?”
“A bad alpha—an alpha who doesn’t take care of his pack—wouldn’t last long because pack mates wouldn’t do much for him. As much power as the alpha holds, he still needs his pack mates to be successful in his role, or he might as well be a lone wolf.”
I mulled that over. “But Ridge didn’t become alpha that way?”
Margo shook her head. “When Ridge came to town, he didn’t challenge the alpha. Instead, the previous alpha, Christie Greenthorne’s elderly father—”
My gasp cut her off.
Margo tsked and muttered, “I know, right? She and her husband have had it out for Ridge ever since, even though that wasn’t her father’s wish. Martin Greenthorne is absolutely not an alpha, and yet they both hated giving up the title of alpha’s daughter and son-in-law.”
“What happened?”
“Well, the old alpha invited Ridge to challenge him for leadership once Ridge had settled in. Greenthorne cited Ridge’s family heritage as reason enough for him to be in charge. Ridge agreed, and it was a relatively fast and simple fight with neither alpha getting hurt.
“The previous alpha tapped out, and no one else challenged Ridge. But you’ve seen him. Even amongst wolves, he’s huge, and others struggle to fight him when he forces submission. Ridge is a true alpha of legends, and he respects traditions and pack life as an alpha should. He always puts the pack’s safety before anything else. It would be stupid not to have him as our alpha.”
She was right. He was an impressive wolf. His size alone was frightening, but you only had to look into his eyes to know he wasn’t a beast. It had taken me some time to get used to that.
More than that, Ridge was a born leader who cared more about the many and less about himself. It was a sight to behold, and certainly made me want him at the head.
“Then, about a year after Ridge became alpha, he ran for mayor after doing a butt-ton for the community,” Margo continued. “Not only through donations, might I add. Ridge volunteered and showed up when he was needed. He won in a landslide; nobody really wanted to go against him because they knew they wouldn’t win. It was only Martin Greenthorne who tried and failed. He seriously thought he could get people to vote for him when he didn’t care about the town—well, at least, not regular townsfolk. He was all about the rich and influential residents.”
None of that surprised me. The Greenthornes were a pain in everyone’s side. It also didn’t surprise me that Ridge had won for mayor. I was impressed that he never had to resort to violence to get what he needed, to show his strength and leadership abilities, but I liked knowing that if he had to, he was capable.
Scanning the crowd, I hoped to get a glimpse of my amazing fake fiancé in the crowd, but I was out of luck.I started getting slightly anxious because I couldn’t scent him, either. Since he’d been taken, we’d been apart too often, though it was only for a few hours at a time. Still, I struggled with not having him nearby. My attachment issues with him must have come from waking up traumatized, scenting his blood, and finding out the hunters had taken him.
I hoped to get over that quickly. It wasn’t reasonable for me to be so anxious to get back to his side.
My wolf argued that it was completely reasonable, which only increased my anxiety.
As I sliced pie after pie, I thought about everything Margo had told me. Soon, Diana arrived, and we were ready to start handing out slices to the crowd. There were still a couple dozen more that needed to be sliced, but we held off for a while. Between the three of us and all the sugar-crazed citizens, the booth was making a really good contribution to the fundraiser.
While we laughed and joked around, I noticed Lola among the townsfolk. She looked lost and uncomfortable. My heart ached at the sight, and I wanted to pull her in and keep her under my wing. She was so small and timid.
I managed to catch her eye and waved her over. A big smile formed on her face, and she hurried toward us. If I hadn’t caught her attention, I would’ve run out and dragged her back here.
When Lola reached the booth, she waved at me. “Hi, Tori.”
“Hi, Lola. How’s everything going? I’m glad to see you came.” I was delighted to see the shy woman attend an event instead of sequestering herself in her office or at the hospital with Zander Elkins.
Shyly, she smiled. “I’m glad I got out.”
Her smile dropped and she became even shyer, lowering her eyes when she noticed Margo next to me. She started fidgeting. When I looked at Margo, I realized she looked very uncomfortable, too.
I wanted to smack myself in the forehead.How could I have forgotten?I started to feel uncomfortable as well, only because I remembered the situation. Margo’s now-dead ex-boyfriend Phil Hill cheated on her with Lola, who’d had no idea that Phil was in a relationship with Margo. Lola had recently moved to town, didn’t know anybody, and had had too much to drink. She’d thought the deputy was a nice single guy until Margo walked in on them—in the act.
For a moment, the three of us stood around, saying nothing. I decided to try to lighten the mood and get some conversation flowing.
“Lola, what’s your favorite pie?”
The poor thing was so timid and reserved that she nearly jumped a couple of inches in the air when I spoke. “Oh, um, none for me, thanks. I’m allergic to gluten. I just wanted to say hi, but I should be going.”
She gave an awkward wave, and her cheeks pinked as she dropped her hand. It looked like she was about to wilt and run away, either from us or the big social gathering.
