Chapter 9

Alex Stone

My mood is dark as I gaze down at the prophecy before me. It's all twisted and jumbled, and I can't make head or tail of it. I wish I could get my hands on the interpretation that Queen Karina has, but she hasn't revealed it to anyone, not even her most trusted advisors. I guess I'll have to interpret this myself.

There's a knock on my door, and I call out, "Come in."

Patrick enters the room. "You're still here? I thought you were going to get lunch at the bar with us."

I lean back in the armchair of the motel room. "I don't think it's a good idea today. Just bring me something back."

My oldest friend and most senior lieutenant, Patrick has been by my side since we were children. He knows me better than anyone.

"Is this about the bartender?" he asks slyly. I gave him a tight-lipped look, and he sinks into the other chair as he studies me. "You can't hide it, you know. You're obsessed with the woman."

"Obsessed is a strong word," I murmur.

"You have a better one?" Patrick asks incredulously. "You're the guy who insists on eating at that place for every single meal. And you can't stop looking at her."

I open my mouth to deny the allegations, but he's right.

Tapping my fingers against my knee, I think of the complication that is Sophia. With everything going on in my pack, I've never had the time to look for a mate. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't, my current situation being what it is. Coming across my fated mate is something I never imagined would happen. But I'm not happy about it. Where other shifters would be thrilled to meet their fated mate, I'm just worried.

At first, I thought it would be easy to ignore Sophia. And I did try, but like a moth to a flame, I kept finding excuses to get close to her. That day at the beach, I had been planning to use the link between us to get some information out of her, but all I could think about was how charming she was. She's got a temper all right, but her sass makes it an amusing sight. She's also rightfully suspicious of me. There's a jaded side to her, a cynicism that I shouldn't find as appealing as I do.

Our time together at the beach has been lingering in my mind. I was sure, even then, that I could push her away. That I could reject my fated mate and walk off unscathed. But watching her nearly drown shook me to my very core.

I should've handled the situation better , I muse to myself. I probably could have. Instead, I chose to act irrationally and stick my foot in my mouth. I've been paying the price for that ever since. I look down at the prophecy, my heart heavy. Was it really the right choice? I can't be with Sophia. Even if I want to be, it is an impossible decision. Choosing her would mean abandoning my pack.

For years, my pack has been striving to get revenge for the massacre we endured during Queen Karina's rise to power. It wasn't just my parents who were murdered; every adult in the pack who had any sort of influence was executed. By the end of that day, our homes were filled with blood. For every one remaining adult, there were ten children, the ratio having shifted dramatically with the massacre. Those children, the ones who lost their families, are the ones who are counting on me for vengeance. If I turn my back on them just because I found my fated mate, I don't think I will be able to live with myself. We have come too far.

The Silver Wolf is the key to regaining power and getting our revenge on Queen Karina. I need to find the Silver Wolf, and I need to take her as my mate. Sophia was never part of the plan, and now that I know her wolf is latent, she can never be my mate. Not if I want to avenge my pack's suffering.

I'm caught between the proverbial frying pan and fire. My instincts are screaming to be with her. My wolf wants to be with her. But I know it's not possible. From the moment I was forced to become the Alpha of the Moonrise Wolf Pack as a frightened ten-year-old, my life was no longer my own. I've been the puppet of the woman whose hands are stained with my pack's blood, my parents' blood. And I've spent the last twenty years building allies and strength.

I can't topple all our plans for one woman. No matter who or what she is.

"Alex?" My friend gives me a concerned look. "I know you're not telling me something."

I don't look at him. "If I'm not telling you something, assume it's for the best. Don't worry about it. The pack comes first. I know that."

He studies me, clearly trying to figure out what it is that I'm hiding from him. Finally, he gives up, sighing, "All right, then. Keep your secrets. I'm off to grab some lunch."

As he heads to the door, I suddenly say, "Can I ask you something?"

Patrick has his wallet in his hand as he glances at me. "Shoot."

"Do I have the personality of a rock?"

My friend stares at me as if I've suddenly grown a second head. "What?"

I look at him expectantly, and he narrows his eyes. "I don't know. Isn't this the sort of thing you should ask a woman? Do you think I go around thinking about your personality all day?"

"Fair point," I shrug.

I watch Patrick leave, and my fingers tap on my knee some more as I ponder the events of last night. Sophia has a tendency to act before she thinks. While I do admire her drive to protect others, the fact that she risks her own safety to do so bothers me. Twice, I've had to save her.

Frustrated, I rake my fingers through my hair. What am I supposed to do? On one hand, I have to find the Silver Wolf and mate her so that I can use her powers to overthrow Queen Karina. But on the other hand, I will be sacrificing my own heart, and I will be hurting another person. Normally, I wouldn't care. After all the humiliation and tragedy I have suffered over the years, it feels like the heart that beats inside my chest is made of stone.

"My whole life I've been told I'm worthless, that I'm not worthy of being loved. Am I expected to believe that my fated mate should think otherwise?"

Sophia's words are like knives piercing that stone heart. I bury my head in my hands.

I watched her cry. I watched her reveal all the emotion she tries not to show in front of people. Even in the alleyway, she broke down. She's scared, she's in pain, and there's nothing I can do about it.

I've been able to glean very little about Sophia, but I do know that she's an orphan with no family and that the pack doesn't entirely like her.

I didn't approach her in the woods with any ulterior motive, but I'd had a feeling when I followed her home last night that she would do something drastic, and I was right. She tried to run away. I wonder if I should have let her. But the idea of her going so far away from me had been impossible to digest. So, I was selfish. I nudged her back toward town. But she clung to me, not wanting to go. And I didn't want her to leave.

What am I supposed to do about this situation? Am I supposed to hurt her over and over again? Is she going to become a casualty in my pack's fight for revenge?

Is that something I can accept?

Unable to sit still, my mind attacking itself, I get to my feet. I want to go for a walk. I need to clear my head. The pack has to come first. It always has to come first. There's never been any doubt about that. But now, I feel torn.

Grabbing my coat, I make my way outside. Instead of heading into town, my feet take me in the other direction, toward the woods.

"I can bring you some food tomorrow, if you want."

She's kind. She has a soft heart. I wonder how bruised that heart is. And I wonder how many bruises I will leave on it.

I feel like a monster. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am the monster. Sophia deserves someone better than me. She deserves someone who can make her a priority.

Deep in the forest, I finally reach the stream. Looking around, I see a small backpack propped against the oak tree. I pick it up and rifle through it.

Sandwiches, fresh bread, juice bottles.

My lips curve involuntarily. She kept her word. She came all the way out here to leave this bag for the black wolf.

Suddenly, something strikes me. If she came back to this spot, does that mean she's gone? My whole body goes still. She was worried about money. If she retrieved her stash, does that mean she's in the wind? Panic fills me as I scan the area, but I can't catch a scent.

Damn scent blockers!

Dropping the backpack of food, I begin sprinting in the direction of the one place I know of where she may be.

If she has run away, how am I supposed to find her without her scent? My wolf howls desperately inside the cage of my mind. Logic is flying out the window as I realize that I may never see Sophia again.

I burst past the tree line and head straight for the Dancing Bear. She's always at the bar this time of day. She has to be there.

But when I throw open the door of the barely filled restaurant, she's nowhere in sight. Patrick and the others look up in surprise, and Patrick lifts his hand to call me over. I slam the door shut and walk down the road, racking my brain to try to figure out where she could have gone. I've just passed the entrance to the alley when I hear something heavy drop to the ground. A familiar voice curses loudly, and as I turn my head to look that way, I see Sophia picking up a trash bag and tossing it in the bin.

I stay in the shadows, watching her. There are circles under her eyes. She grips the edge of the garbage can and leans her body forward. Her head lowers, and a heavy sigh leaves her mouth. Then, after straightening up, she turns around and walks back into the bar.

Relief fills me. Sophia is still here.

Leaning against the wall, I tuck my hands in my pockets and stare out into the street. She looks tired. If I go in there, though, she won't acknowledge her exhaustion. I'm still smarting over her comment about my rock-like personality. But I can tell she's hurting inside, and I don't know how to fix that.

As I stand there trying to figure out what to do, I see the blonde man from last night walking down the street. He has a small box of chocolates in his hand. He passes in front of me and goes into the bar.

Noah Black.

Gaining access to this town was no easy feat, and after going through that, there is no way I don't know who Noah Black is. He's next in line to become Alpha of the Red Rock Wolf Pack, which is one of the three most powerful packs in the South Alliance. While I know who Noah is, I couldn't dig up much information on him before coming here. So, I didn't know much about him till last night, and all of it is from what Sophia told me.

He was a bully to her. That tells me a lot about the person he is.

I wonder why he is in Oakrest. I refuse to let him do anything to Sophia.

Against my better judgment, I follow him inside the building. He's leaning against the bar talking to Sophia, who has a guarded look on her face. I take a step forward when I see him slide the box of chocolates toward her.

His voice is low, but my ears catch the conversation.

"…I know you like chocolates. I got the ones with hazelnut."

She stares down at the box, as if not quite sure what to do. There is reluctance in her gaze. "I don't need chocolates."

"I know you don't need them." It bothers me that he's talking to her as if she's a fragile little bird, his voice gentle and caressing. "But I remember that you used to like them. I hope you still do." When she doesn't say anything, he sighs. "You don't have to accept them. I just wanted you to have them. I saw them in the shop, and I thought of you, so I bought them."

My eyes narrow into slits as I move even closer. What is this man up to? Why is he buying Sophia chocolates and talking to her like this? It's almost as if—

"Seems like your girl is being courted," Jared, another senior lieutenant in my pack, snickers from the table next to where I'm now standing. I give him a death stare, and his laugh transforms into a cough. The two men sitting on either side of him, Derek and Saul, slap him on the back.

I want to go up to the bar, but I have to keep a low profile. Seeing the way Sophia's hand curls around the small box makes my blood boil, though. She shouldn't be accepting gifts from Noah Black.

My beast growls in irritation. Somebody is trying to encroach on our territory. I can feel my wolf looking through my eyes, determined to shed blood. An unmated male is near my woman. That is unacceptable. Following only my instincts, I'm about to approach them when Patrick steps in front of me, his tone hard and low. "What do you think you're doing?"

I look up at my friend but all I see is someone blocking access to my mate. My voice is a rough snarl as I order, "Get out of my way."

Realization dawns in Patrick's eyes as he looks back over his shoulder and sees Sophia.

"Oh, shit."

Grabbing me by the shoulders, he drags me out of the bar. The other guys follow.

I have enough common sense left not to attack Patrick, but as soon as we're outside, I bare my teeth at all five of my men. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

My second-in-command stares at me, horrified. "I knew you were acting strange around that woman. I just thought you had a thing for her. Why didn't you tell me she's your fated mate?"

The haze clouding my judgment fades away at his words, and I stare at him. "What?"

My friend stares right back at me. "Why didn't you tell me the waitress is your fated mate?"

"How do you know—?"

"My parents were fated mates, remember?" Patrick's expression grows heavy. "You look at her the way my father used to look at my mother. I thought I was wrong at first, but this confirms it. Your wolf was in your eyes, Alex."

I clench my jaw and look down at my feet.

Patrick runs his hands over his face. "This changes things. This changes everything."

I glance through the window of the bar and see Sophia looking at me. As soon as our eyes meet, she immediately looks away.

Noah is still leaning close to her. I don't like it.

I don't know how—perhaps because it's Patrick who is standing in front of me—but I am able to restrain my will. I look at my old friend, and my voice is dark. "No, it doesn't. This changes nothing. We're going to stay on track."

"But, Alex—"

"I don't want to hear it," I cut him off sharply. "I'll meet you back at the motel. There's another cage match tonight. Let's see if we can corner the wolf shifter and find out whether she's the one we're looking for."

I can see Patrick's desire to discuss this matter, but there's nothing that any amount of discussion will change. All five of these friends of mine have risked their lives to come here with me to search for the Silver Wolf. If the South Alliance discovers us, they could execute us on the spot. They could also wipe out our entire pack. We are taking a huge risk, and this is no time for me to think of myself. I am the Alpha, and with that power comes responsibility. I am responsible for the lives of my pack members, for their happiness. And if that means sacrificing my own, then so be it.

*** **

I ignore the sounds of the humans around me as they cheer on the two fighters in the cage. My attention is on the slim female with the fox mask. Even from across the room, I can tell that she is holding herself back. Her movements are graceful and agile, and I'm pretty certain she could knock out her opponent with one blow. However, she seems to be putting on a performance for the crowd. I watch her take two strikes from the other fighter and stumble backward. The crowd boos in response, but I'm silent.

I can see what they can't. She deliberately opened herself up to her opponent. She wanted to get hit.

I'm no fool. These matches are fixed. At least, the ones that involve the Wily Vixen are.

The first time I saw her in the cage, I had my suspicions. There was something about the way she fought. Humans, even the best of fighters, don't have full control of their bodies. Shifters, on the other hand, even the untrained ones, move with a specific grace. It's easy to spot a shifter in a fight.

I saw one other man in the crowd that first night who was keeping an eye on her movements. I remember how it wasn't hard to break into the secure area where nobody but staff is allowed and how I was not the only one who wanted a word with the female fighter that night. If I hadn't stepped in, I have a feeling she would've killed the man who towered over her. Mountain Man, he was called—the opponent she had humiliated in the ring.

While I was able to confirm that she is indeed a wolf shifter, her claws being the biggest evidence, I have not been able to talk to her. If only I could identify her and approach her outside this arena. Unfortunately, she takes scent blockers. That means the only way I can actually identify her is with the smell of her blood, but she's very careful not to get so much as a cut during these fights—just a lot of bruises, which don't help me.

I have to figure out something soon. I'm sure the Silver Wolf is in this area; there has to be a reason why this town is so protected. My men and I have infiltrated other towns along the border of the South Alliance, and none of them have had this kind of security. The witch who foretold the prophecy has been helping us disguise the color of our fur, but the potion she made for us only lasts for a couple of hours. We have just a few bottles left, and that means we don't have much time.

My men and I have combed the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Silver Wolf. But so far, we have not come across anything. The prophecy stated that the wolf is "hidden, even from itself, found in the most unlikely of places, covered in the sweat of humans."

That made no sense to me and still doesn't, so I don't really know how Queen Karina came to the conclusion that the wolf is located along the border of the South Alliance. She never revealed the full prophecy to me, or why she wanted access to the Silver Wolf, when she sent me on what looked like nothing more than a wild goose chase. All I was told was to locate the wolf and bring her to the Queen. However, while my family may no longer lead the North Alliance, I still have friends in hidden places, allies who saw the injustice that took place years ago when my pack was forcibly removed from its leadership role and my parents were murdered. These friends have been my eyes and ears in the Queen's domain.

My thoughts return to the present as the Wily Vixen grabs her opponent by the neck and tosses him to the ground, on his back. As she lifts her head up, I feel her gaze brush against me. It's like a caress against my skin, and my wolf rumbles. The night I ambushed her behind this building, I smelled her arousal. She was attracted to me; I can use that. As long as I can get her into my bed and give her my mating mark, she will be the biggest weapon in my pack's fight to take back our rightful place as leaders of the North Alliance.

But only if she is the Silver Wolf. I don't know if she is. I need confirmation of that.

If I ask her outright, I doubt she'll tell me the truth. I have to earn her trust and secure a place in her heart first.

I feel the guilt rise within me, and I squash it like a bug. She is our last hope. If Queen Karina gets hold of the Silver Wolf, she will be able to control all three Alliances. I can't have that. She has to pay for what she did to us.

The match ends in victory for the Wily Vixen, and I watch her leave the cage. She stops in front of somebody: Mathew Rivers, the owner of this arena. She seems to be discussing something with him before she uses the door to enter the restricted area of this basement. I move quickly. Slipping upstairs and outside, I make my way around the outside of the building.

Breaking the lock on the back door, I step inside and quietly close the door behind me. I head down the stairs and find myself standing in the small kitchen. Soft murmurs of conversation can be heard from down the hall. I hear footsteps, and I take cover behind the wall adjacent to the kitchen. It's a human, from the smell of it.

He knocks on a door. "It's Mathew."

I hear the sound of a lock opening, and then a door creaks. The door closes behind Mathew. I decide to wait for him to leave, and within a couple of minutes, the door opens and as he walks out. I hear him say, "I've left some meat roast in the fridge for you. Make sure you eat it. That's a nasty bruise you've got."

My eyes narrow. Does this human know about the Wily Vixen being a wolf shifter?

It seems to be the case. I peer around the corner and see the same man with whom the female fighter was talking after the match. He walks away. Ten minutes later, the door opens again, and this time, the woman walks out. Her face is concealed by her hood.

She takes one step forward before she goes still. It must be instinct because she withdraws the fox mask from her pocket. I'm already moving, trying to prevent her from putting it on so I can finally see her face, but when my hand lands on her shoulder, she immediately ducks and sweeps the floor with her leg.

I am so focused on looking at her face that she takes me unawares, and I fall to the ground. However, when she tries to run, I grab her foot and yank, causing her to fall right on top of me.

Her body feels familiar, pressed against mine. Our faces are inches apart, but she has managed to get the mask on. I don't have to see her face to know how pissed off she is.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I feel kind of foolish, but I hold on to her waist. "I want to talk to you."

"And this is how you choose to go about it?" she demands, furious. "By attacking me?!"

"You won't give me the time of day!" I retort.

"Because I don't like you," she spits out, and the vicious edge to her words take me aback. I'm sure I haven't done anything to warrant such fury.

"You don't even know me," I point out.

Her voice is tense. "I'm getting to know you plenty right now."

For a moment, I don't understand what she means, and then it hits me.

I'm hard, and I'm pressing against her.

My eyes widen in shock. I didn't even realize I was so turned on. My wolf, on the other hand, is pacing inside me, vibrating with the need to sniff this female. There's something about her that is getting my animal agitated. It wants to bite her, lick her, groom her. It can't decide what it wants, but it's getting worked up.

Bewildered by this turn of events, I grit my teeth. What the hell is going on?

I release the poor woman from my grip, and she stands up. Her mask is still securely fastened to her face as she looks at me.

"What do you have to say to me that is so important?"

As I get to my feet, I close my eyes briefly, counting to ten and imagining Patrick dancing in the shower, naked. The horrifying image helps with redirecting my blood flow.

When I open my eyes, the female fighter has her hands on her hips, and I don't know how, but I can tell she's glaring at me from under that damn mask.

"Are you from this town?" I ask her, still fighting the embarrassment from a moment ago.

"Yes. Of course I am."

"Do you mind if we talk without the mask?"

She lets out a sound that sounds like a cross between a sob and a hysterical laugh. "You must think me very stupid. If you want to talk to me, it's going to have to be with this mask on. The only reason I'm talking to you at all right now is because you won't stop harassing me!"

"Fair enough," I murmur. "Do you have a sponsor for the matches you take part in?"

My question seems to take her by surprise. "A sponsor? No."

"Then, I would like to sponsor you."

She stares at me silently, and I wish I could see her face so I could know what she's thinking.

"Why?" she asks bluntly. "What do you get out of it?"

I shrug, knowing I have to play this very carefully. "I've been watching you. You're good at what you do. I would like to sponsor somebody who I know can win fights. It means more money for us."

"That's it? And what's in it for me?"

I hesitate, not really sure what motivates her.

"I can make sure the pack security doesn't find out what you're doing."

The Wily Vixen crosses her arms over her chest. "They won't, with or without you."

"We can also offer you more money than what you're earning now."

It's a gamble, but when I see the way her body stiffens, I realize I've finally caught her. That's what this is about. She needs the money.

"How much more?" she asks warily.

"How much do you make per fight now?"

"A grand."

I blink. One grand? That's all she's been making? Whoever is paying her that little is clearly extorting her. A grand is nothing for a fighter like her.

"Is that per fight or per day?"

She doesn't answer me.

"We're willing to offer you four grand per fight."

Her arms fall lax by her sides. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly so," I reassure her.

"What's in it for you? Aside from the money aspect?"

She's sharp. Sharper than I gave her credit for.

"I believe in trust," I say carefully, studying her body language. "If you agree to this, I expect you to trust me, and that means with your identity as well."

She shakes her head. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why not?" I ask calmly. "If we're investing money in you, then don't we have a right to know who is working for us?"

She shrugs. "Sure, if revealing my identity wouldn't put me in danger. But it will. And no amount of money is worth that."

"Before you make a decision," I say quickly, "take a few days to think it over. And if you are interested, this is where you can find me. Just ask for Alex Stone."

I take out my business card and hand it to her.

Not wanting to overplay my hand, I turn around and begin walking away. As I go, I discreetly look over my shoulder and see her reading the card. Then, she pockets it.

My lips curve in satisfaction.