FORTY-NINE

Xander

WE'RE ALL PISSED OFF, emotionally raw, and rock hard.

Our mate preached her love for us with her royal power interwoven into her words, vowing to protect our love at all costs, letting us feel the depth of her emotions and the strength of her love through our bond. She did this all while taking a wolf-shifter into a combination shoulder-wrist headlock—but the cherry on top? She ended it by giving a highly abbreviated version of one night of our sex life.

I chance a glance at Ethan. His lips are ticked up on one side, and his lip ring is tucked between his teeth, but it's his eyes that hold my attention: the shine in those dark orbs and the moisture adorning his feather-like lashes. He draws in a shuddering breath and slides his gaze to me. Wiping away a rogue tear before it escapes, he rolls a shoulder in acceptance. She makes him feel, and he'd rather feel with her than be numb anymore. Me too. Me fuckin' too.

The entire pack house is quiet, except for the shrill squeals, growls and stomping of heels coming from Amber as she regains her balance and her composure. Billie has returned to her seat and is focused on filling out her brilliant but disturbing bingo card, outwardly unperturbed and acting like she didn't just put a she-wolf in her place while laying down a warning to all here.

Sending my gaze around the hall, I assess the mixed expressions on our pack members' faces. Most of them look stunned or shocked with wide eyes that I hope represent open minds. Others look wary of her, and many in the section where Councilman Hogan is sitting with Veronica have faces set with the hard lines of determination and resolve. It's as if Bille's display of strength just verified their willingness to fight against our mate and what she represents.

My hand is once again on the nape of her neck, my thumb rubbing along her pulse point, needing the feeling of her flesh, the feeling of her heartbeat under my thumb. Jax takes hold of her leg and drapes it over his. Billie hums a pleased laugh while repositioning herself at an angle to better accommodate his needs and her comfort, which has her inching closer to me. I take the opportunity to nuzzle behind her ear, a quick escape from this meeting. Erecting my spine, I groan as this has only just begun, and I am already over it.

Amber flexes her fingers and shakes out her wrist and arm several times before turning to face us. Her brows may be creased with uncertainty, but her lips are pressed into a thin line of determination. Billie's pulse rises under my thumb, and her skin warms against my palm. I let my wolf reach out to her fox, finding Little Fox pacing back and forth. Is that a bandana wrapped around her head? Bandana or not, her lips are pulled back, baring her canines, and her chest heaves with her puffing breath. She wants this bitch gone.

"Go back to your parents, Amber," I command, my eyes glowing with my wolf's presence. "And do not dare disrespect my true-mate or pack-mates again, or there will be dire consequences."

"Amber," Coco calls, her wary eyes flitting between her daughter and me. "Come over here, honey."

Amber's face falls, and she whips her head around to stare at her mother with slitted eyes of betrayal. Coco continues, "Now, honey, come over here."

Coco and Amber both bring their gazes to me, and I let them see what lies just beneath the calm facade. The alpha they all want. The one who will lay waste to anything and anyone who threatens what I cherish. Opening my mouth, I shift only my canines into my wolf canines and release a thundering growl of warning out into the air. It's not loud. It's not sharp. It's not a howl. It's not a roar. No, it's a low, menacing infrasonic growl not audible to most. It's a sound that can only be felt. A sound that incites fear in the body. The silent pack house fills with the noises of the members moving around in their seats, the rumpling of clothing, and the squeaking of benches as they change their positions. These are the sounds of their fear. Fear I induced.

Amber's body shakes in dread, her mouth opens in shock, and the whites of her eyes grow. She doesn't move, doesn't breathe, frozen like a trembling bunny in the long grass while a hawk's shadow passes overhead.

Coco's face pales, and she audibly swallows. "You've expressed what you came here to, and Alpha Alexander Knight has given you a command," she says as a reminder to her daughter.

Upon hearing her mother's words, Amber regains control of herself and sets her obsessive eyes on Jax one last time before scurrying to rejoin her family. I pull my teeth back in and close my mouth, silencing my wolf.

My mother, whose eyes have been glowing with her wolf's presence, has been observing and assessing the entire interaction. Judging by the small grin on her face, she approves.

Her attention is now back on Brian. With boredom in her voice, she asks, "Callahans, do you feel like you've been heard here tonight?"

Brian swings his gaze from my mother to me and to his family as he tries to figure out how to proceed. Unfortunately, he's not giving up. Crossing his arms over his chest, he grunts. "Heard, yes. But until a decision has been made concerning the requirements needed to be a member of this pack, I think all non-wolf-shifters should be considered non-pack members."

My mother pauses a moment, and she sets her glowing eyes out over the crowd of pack members, in particular those standing in the two lines waiting to speak. Her nose twitches, and her eyes brighten even more, gauging the feelings of the wolves in line, deducing what they want to discuss. Whatever she's determined has an exasperated exhale escaping her downturned lips. She says, "In hopes of saving time and giving all of those that wish to speak a chance to, I would ask to see by a show of hands, who's in line tonight to express concern about Alpha Knight, Beta Emerson, Beta Benton, and Duchessa Volpella's bonds in relation to our pack? Raise your hand as well if you wish to know Alpha Knight's views on becoming our official new alpha."

Gertie squeals low, "Bingo!" And it's accompanied by several groans and a few curses. My arm quivers with the feeling of my mate's body trembling from her restrained laughter. Bending down, she searches her bag and pulls out a gift-wrapped caramel apple. Handing it to Gertie, she whispers, "Congratulations." Then she refocuses on the meeting. My lips curve into a small smile, and I shake my head slightly. Of course she would have brought prizes just in case. Like the worms.

Around 90 percent of those in line raise their hands. My mother clicks her tongue. "I see." She meanders across the stage. Her head moves from side to side, thinking things through, assessing, and mulling over her options, something my father rarely did. Lifting her gaze back up, she addresses the pack. "I can see where the concern and the need to speak are coming from," she admits. "From what we've been led to believe about other shifter subspecies, and now having the prodigal alpha and his betas that most of you want as your pack leaders bonded with a fox-shifter, I completely understand where you are coming from." She turns to Bruce, and they move to meet with one another. Their eyes keep tracking toward me as they talk, and soon they reach a decision.

Bruce moves to the center of the of the stage. Flattening down his black-and-white flannel, he places his hands on his hips and offers, "Maybe you'd like to hear from Alexander Knight, the alpha that many of you want." He turns his head to face me. Scratching his beard, he gestures a hand in my direction. "Alexander, would you let us know what your thoughts are regarding the pack—what you want from them and what they could expect from you?" He brings his attention back to the crowd. "Hopefully he'll answer most of your questions in a short speech, and then we could move along with the proceedings."

"All in favor of hearing from Alpha Alexander Knight?" my mother calls, raising her hand, and more than 80 percent of the pack raises their hands. I may not have planned to speak tonight, but I anticipated that it could happen, and I've come somewhat prepared. Regardless I'm less than thrilled and not very hopeful that my words will truly matter.

Billie snuggles into my side and murmurs, "Speak your truth, Alexander. Be honest. Be fierce. Try. . ." She pauses, and I dip my chin down to her. Tilting her face up, her eyes search mine. Sensing what I'm thinking, her lips tug up on one side, and she implores "Try to be hopeful. See more good in them than they may show. See what this pack could be if they were allowed to find their own happiness—if the pack supported each other's happiness."

"Exactly, my dear," my gran coos in approval from behind us.

Lifting my chin to Bruce, I jerk a nod. I place a lingering kiss on the top of my mate's head before pressing up to standing and turning around to face my pack-mates. Ethan slides over to take my seat next to Billie, his long arm slinging around her shoulders. She snuggles up into him. The four of us hold a shared moment of connection, strength, and support. Then I turn to take the stage.