Chapter 8 - Devon

"What the hell is going on?" Devon shoved his office door open and stuck his head out into the hallway.

He could hear raised voices and the thud of something hitting a wall. His pack was nowhere to be seen. Following the sound to its source, he made his way down the stairs to the living room.

"Dev and Jonah, not enough for you?" Emma was screaming in Beth's face. "Now you're all over Caleb, too?"

But his luna wasn't cowering. She was toe-to-toe with his sister, spine straight, anger pulsing off of her. Emma's words landed in his brain a second later. What was this about Jonah and Caleb? His jaw clenched. He knew she was friends with Jonah, and he had encouraged that friendship. She needed someone in the pack to talk to, and he knew Jo was easier to open up to than he was, especially given that it was Dev's fault she was here at all. But if something was going on between them, if he'd laid one finger on her, Dev would tear him apart.

"You're delusional. We had lunch together. Unlike you, I don't need to spread my legs for every man I talk to," Beth snarled back. Her fists were clenched at her sides.

Gone was the woman who had cowered each time Emma looked her way. She was luna now, and powerful in her position. Caleb and Jonah ran into the room a minute behind him.

"What the hell—"

"What is going on?"

Their eyes widened as they took in the scene. There was a painting on the floor beside Beth, glass shattered when it'd fallen. Her bare feet were inches from the shards. That was probably the thump he'd heard, Emma shoving Beth into the wall so hard she'd knocked the art down.

His sister was sharp with her words. They could lash like whips, cut someone down, but she was a damned good fighter too. She had to be. Keeping up with the White Winter pack meant fighting her own battles. Beth didn't see it coming, but Devon did. Emma shifted her weight onto her back hip and brought her arm back. It would've hit Beth across the cheek, knocked her back into that wall, and downed her like that painting.

If it had landed. Instead, Devi was there, catching her fist and pushing Beth back behind him to safety. His hand ached, taking the full force of Emma's punch.

"Get out of my way!" Emma yelled, bristling. She didn't back off. She sank deeper into her fighting stance, ready to throw another punch. "Let me show her who's really in charge here. Unless you're afraid, your luna can't take it."

Beth pushed Dev, but he didn't budge. Truth was, he knew Beth couldn't take Emma in a fight. Not many people could. He'd trained with her since they were children, and if it wasn't for his size and strength, she'd still whoop him.

"God, she's pathetic," Emma spat. "Can't even fight her own battles. You think a little mewling pup can lead us, Dev? That's your grand idea for saving the pack?"

Dev caught Caleb's eye, jerked his head toward Emma. He came up behind her, far enough away to not take an elbow if she spun, but close enough to set his hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, Em, it's not the time for this."

Emma slapped his hand away. "Then when is the time? I've worked my ass off for this pack and she just waltzes in and suddenly we all have to bow to her? She's a fucking Rosewood! I deserve to be in charge! Not her, and not him!"

Silence descended on the room with her words. It was one thing to know she wanted to be alpha that she wanted to shove Dev aside and take his role. He had always wondered what she'd planned to do about it. Take over with a coup? Embarrass him so he had to back down? Kill him? He wouldn't have put it past her.

Now it was out there. Open. She couldn't take it back. Dev saw a lick of fear in Emma's eyes when she realized she'd said out loud the thoughts she'd been keeping buried, but she chased it away with a defiant look.

"You need to go. Go calm down somewhere. We'll talk." Devon choked the words out, conscious of Beth behind him. He wouldn't prove her right with a brutish display. Wouldn't strike his own sister down, even if she deserved it.

Emma laughed, cold and harsh. "She's already turning you into a bitch. Pathetic. You're pathetic, Dev. This pack is going to crumble because you can't even handle your own sister."

Dev grabbed her by the throat. Restraint only went so far. He pushed her up against the wall until her feet dangled above the floor, her fingernails scratching the back of his hands. Beth inhaled sharply behind him.

"I'll snap your neck if you say one more word today." He tossed her aside. She landed in a heap among the broken glass, Caleb rushing to her side. "Get her out of here, Caleb, before I kill her."

Caleb dragged Emma out of the room, leaving Beth and Jonah there, stunned looks on their faces. Blood raced hot in his veins.

"I can handle my own fights," Beth said, shaking off her dazed look.

Jonah grabbed her arm. "Not the time, Beth."

"Is that what you call handling it?" Devon waved his hand at the broken painting. "Getting knocked around? I don't need you getting hurt by my psychotic sister. Stay out of her way."

Beth's eyebrows rose. She was afraid of him; he could smell it on her, but she wasn't showing it. Her eyes flashed as she met him toe to toe.

"They won't ever respect me if you fight all my battles for me. They already think I'm weak because I'm not a White Winter; don't make it harder for me." She pressed her finger into his chest.

Devon caught her hand. "You're too precious to risk. I'll protect you for as long as I have to."

Her cheeks splotched red, and she turned on her heel, storming out of the room. Devon sighed.

"She'll come around," Jonah offered, rubbing the back of his neck. "She just needs some time to cool off. They both do."

He wasn't sure Jonah believed that any more than Devon did. Beth was right—the pack didn't respect her, and Emma ensured they never would. With that kind of pack attitude, she'd never feel welcome here. She'd never be his luna in more than name.

"Stay with her, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid," Devon directed Jonah.

"Where are you going?" Jonah asked, his brow creased with concern. "Look, I know Emma was way out of line, but…"

Devon snorted. "Not the time to question me. After Beth, now."

This time, Jonah listened, the bite in Devon's voice driving him out of the room. Devon took a minute to breathe. He was too old for this shit, but here he was, having to deal with it anyway. Emma was on her last strike, and he had to make sure she knew it.

He passed Caleb in the hall, his face pale apart from three deep red scratches across his cheek.

"Good luck with her. She's something else today," Caleb said, clutching a hand to his cheek. "And tell her I went to see Amy, would you? Going to need antibiotics, that girl is toxic as fuck."

He went off down the hall, mumbling to himself, but Devon knew he'd be back at Emma's side the second she snapped her fingers or batted her eyelashes. Toxic or not, she had a hold on him.

Devon knocked on Emma's door. He heard her movements inside, a drawer sliding shut, and a muttered curse.

"Go away," she called.

He opened the door. "Fat chance."

She didn't turn around from her vanity, where she was stooped down, applying lipstick. He caught her eye in the mirror.

"I thought you were Caleb."

"No, I don't think he'll be sniffing around for a while. What did he do to deserve that?" Devon could think of a million tiny slights that would get that reaction from her. She was as prickly as a hedgehog.

"He wouldn't let me go after your Rosewood," she sniffed, capping the lipstick and dropping it on the vanity before turning around to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

It hadn't been an easy childhood for either of them, and he could see the scars of it on her as clearly as if they'd been written on her skin, however hard she tried to hide them. The house, with its many rooms and hidden nooks, had been a sanctuary, an escape from their father's drunken anger. Looking at Emma then, he could barely remember the girl who had pulled him into the closet one terrible evening, when their father had smashed his fist through the glass window and turned his attention toward Devon.

That night, she'd wrapped him in one of their mother's coats and told him a story until he'd stopped sobbing, his hand covering the purpling bruise around his eye. Outside the closet, their father raged, looking for them. It had felt like ages before their mother had come home and intervened, drawing his attention from the children, and ages after that when, finally, silence descended over the house.

She was in there, though, that girl, even now.

"This is your last chance, Em. Leave Beth alone, or I'll exile you." He passed his hand over his face as he said it, feeling a hundred times his age.

It killed him to say it, to think of turning his back on the last of his family. Of breaking his promise to his mother.

Emma's face darkened. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. Or better yet, don't. Fall in line. Obey my commands. Stop spreading dissent through the ranks every time my back is turned, and for god's sake, stop gunning for alpha. We could be better than this. We could work together."

"Save me the speech," she spat. "And get out of my room."

Devon sized her up, trying to gauge whether his words had landed. She'd never show it if they had. He wanted to pry, wanted to ask why she felt the need to pull at every threat he tried to weave around the pack, why she undermined his authority, but he knew it was useless. She wouldn't tell him anything. At some point along the way, they'd lost each other.

"I meant every word. Shape up or get out," Devon said, slamming the door shut behind him so hard the walls shook.

He pressed his palms against the sides of his head and squeezed, willing the ache starting to form behind his eyes away. Stubbornly, it grew larger.

Despite Caleb's wishes, he hadn't told Em about him heading out to meet Amy. He didn't want Amy's blood on his hands, but judging from the lipstick and the mini skirt hanging from the closet door, Emma was headed out into town, too. The last thing he needed was a brawl at a human bar on top of everything else.

Back in his office, Devon gazed at the map on the wall. The White Winter territory was marked in blue, and the Rosewood territory in red. He was exhausted, drained by anger, but the pack needed him right now. Needed a distraction. Cohesion.

"Everybody, gather up!" He called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. They'd hear him, wherever they were in the big house.

Doors opened. Footsteps pounded on the stairs and down the hall. His pack spilled into his office in various states of dishevelment. Emma eyed Caleb from across the room, barely covered by the strip of fabric she called a skirt. Caleb leaned against the far wall, pointedly ignoring her.

"We"re going out," he said, once everyone had gathered.

"I had plans!" Caleb protested, side-eyeing Emma.

Devon's warning was enough to keep her mouth shut for the time being, at least, but she scowled down at the floor as if she could burn a hole in it.

"Cancel them. You've got five minutes, then I want everyone outside with me."

He waited outside, dusk falling around him. Crickets chirped in the grass, and the setting sun left a chill on his skin, which he relished. The night was fresh and waiting for him, calling to him. As a wolf, he could slough off the worries of the day, the pressures of the pack. He could just be.

Beth hadn't joined them, not in the office or the group gathering on the lawn around him. She still didn't feel like one of them, and how could she, with Emma, doing her best to make sure she stayed on the outside? The light in her room was on. He imagined her up there, looking down at them, the wild pack she loathed.

Jonah would keep her company if she wanted it. Devon felt a spike of guilt wedge itself in like a splinter under the nail at keeping Jonah on guard duty, but he was the only one he could trust. He just hoped it wasn't driving him away. He couldn't afford to lose the one person he trusted.

When all the wolves were assembled, he shoved down thoughts of Beth and guilt and shifted, leading them all into the woods. It was not just a distraction, an excuse to get the pack together. He led them to the territory line, the one marked in blue on the map, head low to the ground as he searched for foreign scent.

In the end, it wasn't just the scent he caught crossing the territory line. Caleb barked an alarm beside him. The Rosewood pack burst through the trees, colliding with the White Winters. The packs tangled in a snarl of teeth, claw, fur, and blood. Devon caught a mottled brown one by the scruff and threw it to the side.

The Rosewoods were out in force. He had no doubt they were searching for Beth, tracking their missing pack member in the White Winter territory. Brave of them to cross the line. Stupid too.

Even outnumbered, the White Winters had the edge. They were ruthless in their fighting, lunging for eyes and the tender underside of a neck. Caleb tore an ear from a delicate, near-white wolf in a spray of blood. Emma was a whirlwind, taking on three at once.

Devon caught the alpha alone. He outmatched him in size, but the Rosewood didn't back down, throwing himself at Devon with surprising speed. Twisting to the side, he threw the Rosewood off of him and let the momentum carry the other wolf across the ground before leaping on top of him. He lunged at the alpha's throat.

Another Rosewood barreled into Devon, knocking him off the alpha before his teeth could sink into his neck. Despite that wolf's heroic efforts, Devon could see the tide of the battle was turned in White Winter's favor. Rosewoods were limping, bleeding, edging away from his pack.

But the Rosewood alpha was torn. No doubt he could smell Beth on them, and any doubt about where she had ended up was gone. They knew she was alive and she was with the White Winter pack. It was, apparently, enough for them. The alpha howled and backed away, his eyes locked on Devon.

The Rosewood pack ran back to their territory, tails tucked between their legs. Emma tried to give chase, but Devon called her back. They didn't need to exterminate the Rosewoods, and it wouldn't win him any points with Beth if he killed one of them. He just needed them gone and his own pack stable.

As they headed home, bloodied but exultant, Devon felt one step closer to that goal.