Chapter - Richard

The following afternoon, I'm wiping down the bar and trying not to pay attention to Big Daddy. I haven't seen Lola all day, haven't talked to her since Marco called her last night. Walking away from her rankled. I wanted to stay and hear what he had to say, to make sure she was okay with whatever it was. To clarify that I wasn't asking her to stay for me, but rather hinting that she doesn't have to choose the Santa Alaya life. She could leave it, like I did.

Any guesses on the reason you care, dumbass?Big Daddy's growly bass echoes around my mind, bouncing off it like it's empty except for whatever he thinks.

As I'm thinking about her, Lola enters the bar and crosses the room toward me with both hands slung in her pockets and her guitar over her back. I chuckle when I see it sticking up over her beautiful black hair.

Offer to brush it. Females like their hair touched.

Oh, for Alaya's sake. Seems awfully assumptive to me, but that's how he thinks, in absolutes.

When she stops beside me at the end of the bar, I grin and thumb the guitar bag. "You planning to play some awesome fight music for me?"

She grins, revealing twin white fangs. "You never know when a little song will ease the tension. Back home, I took my guitar everywhere." Her expression grows morose. "I used to play it for the elderly at the community home. Those were some of my favorite times."

"Honestly, fight music might be exactly what we need," I say on a laugh, hoping to bring her spirits up.

Just then, the front double doors swing wide, revealing the muscular figure of Rowan, one of the younger alphas from my pack. He stands a head shorter than me but he's wider, stockier. His blond hair is slicked straight back, eyes glinting purple with his wolf's aura.

The challenger. Good. Rip him from stem to stern. Protect our Luna.

Not our anything. Focus. This challenge is a lesson for Rowan, nothing more.

Lola sucks in a deep breath that draws my attention. The look on her face is absolute terror, and it rips my soul to pieces to see that.

Fixxxxxxxxx,Big Daddy shouts.

Without thinking, I wrap an arm around her and pull her to my chest, purring quietly. Tipping her chin up to force her to focus on me and not Rowan, I scan her face, drinking in her pitch-black irises and the black freckle on one side of her mouth.

"I'll be fine, omega," I croon. It's a comforting tone, a tone I've used thousands of times with others in my pack.

Not while touching like this,Big Daddy reminds me. Kiss omega.

I ignore that, though, listening for her heartbeat to slow. Instead, it ramps up as Rowan's footsteps echo into the bar. The floorboards begin to clatter as Bad Axe welcomes the challenger. Cheering and shouting follow Rowan as I struggle to pull my attention from Lola.

She places both hands on my chest. "Be careful, please." Her eyes are wide with fear.

I drop her chin and bring my mouth to her ear, the scent of oranges and cream filling my senses. "Say it with me, omega. I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine," she repeats dutifully, her voice never registering above a whisper.

I straighten. "Then it's settled."

She bites her lip and nods, but her scent remains tinged with the bitter sourness of fear.

"It'll even be fun," I say with a growl as I spin to face Rowan. She'll see. This is not like a challenge in Santa Alaya.

The smaller alpha stands in the entryway with the entire pack behind him, as well as a smattering of centaurs and pegasi. Connall stands to Rowan's left, arms crossed and a big grin on his face.

I stand my ground, waiting for Rowan to issue his official challenge. Lola's worried presence is tangible at my side, but I hope once we begin fighting, she'll see that this is a far cry from what Marco will undertake against Eliel.

Rowan presses his palm flat to his chest, giving me an intense, predatory look. When he speaks, his wolf's voice resonates throughout the bar. "Alpha Richard Benton, I formally challenge you for leadership of Pack Ever."

Howls rise in support of him, which is all part of the show. This is a confidence-building exercise at its very core.

I raise my chin, balling my fists as Big Daddy presses to the front of my consciousness, ready to rip through my clothing and attack.

Start in human form,I remind him. Don't distract me.

No answer.

I grin wickedly at Rowan. "I accept your challenge, Alpha Rowan Woodcock of Pack Ever. May Alaya bless you with strength and courage."

His nostrils flare, his challenge clear. "And you, Alpha."

Connall howls into the room, raising the hair on my nape as the rest of the pack joins in. Howls mix with growls and shouts and cheers, a few jeers too. Arkan and Hana and the rest of the centaurs and pegasi stand at the back, stomping in anticipation of the fight. Despite the fact that they aren't technically part of the pack, I've always included their herds in everything as if they were.

"Outside!" I bellow, commanding everyone out of the bar.

Someone swings the doors wide, and the pack and herds flow like a river out into the street, still jeering and shouting. Electric energy fills my consciousness, my senses sharpening and expanding as Big Daddy pushes his abilities into my human form.

"Good luck, Alpha," Lola says, her tone throaty. She slaps me on the stomach as she passes, heading for the exit.

I snarl at the rough touch, every cell of my body primed and ready for violence. Watching her walk away is a special sort of torture because, amped like I am, I'm just as ready to fuck as I am to fight. Pro or con of being a pack alpha, I suppose. We're always the most dominant wolf in the pack. The knot at the base of my cock swells and pulses, eager to be buried deep in her heat.

Dominate Luna after we win, Big Daddy commands, pressing against my bones until my feet move me toward the exit. I'm too focused on the fight to remind him we can't do that with her.

Out in the street, the pack and herds have formed a giant circle. Silver jewelry glints with gems in every shade—cuffs, bars, earrings—the entire pack has on their finery in support of Rowan. Even the centaurs and pegasi have taken on our bejeweled tradition. Arkan and Hana wear matching fetlock cuffs with purple jewels in a ring. They stamp a beat together as Arkan cheers for Rowan.

Rowan stands in the circle's center, raising his arms to urge the cheers higher. Silver studs glint in both his ears, a chunky pendant hanging from his muscular neck. His girlfriend joins him, holding a hand out for his jewelry so he can remove it to shift.

When I enter the ring, I pull my shirt off so it doesn't tear when we let our wolves out.

Luna is looking,Big Daddy growls. Take off the rest. Let her see you fight with our big di?—

Concentrate, I snap.

Rowan follows my move, tossing his shirt to his girlfriend Bex. She grabs it and retreats to the circle with his parents and siblings.

He springs forward from a complete standstill, but I saw the move coming. I step easily out of the way as he lands gracefully and tumbles, rolling upright. Backing in an arc, I observe. It's laughable how easy it is to track the way he tenses prior to a move.

He lunges again, slicing at my core with his wolf's claws out. Hushed whispers go up in the crowd as I let him get close enough to score four red stripes down my chest and stomach.

End himmmmmm,Big Daddy commands, his claws slipping easily out of my human form's fingers.

"Give me your worst, Alpha," Rowan mouths off, a sneer marring his face.

Before he gets the entire sentence out, I leap forward and bowl him over flat to the ground. Gripping him around the throat and by one arm, I shift and toss him like a Frisbee across the circle. He hits the ground with a thud, the breath leaving his lungs in a deep, painful-sounding whoosh.

A few titters go up from around us.

Every sound, every sensation is brighter, stronger, more with Big Daddy partnering like this. For the first time since he started talking to me, it feels like actual partnership between us. I could almost crow with triumph for how normal that is.

Rowan roars and shifts, ripping his clothes to tatters as his wolf takes over.

I release Big Daddy with a battle cry that shakes the glass-fronted treehouses around us.

And then a scent hits me, filling the air so strong, I drop to all fours and lift my nose to drag in more of that sweet, sweet hit.

Arousal. Need. Surprise.

Her.

Fuck. I groan inwardly as we look around the circle to see Lola standing at one end, her hand wrapped around her throat, eyes wide with her wolf's amber shining through like a godsdamned beacon.

Which is how I don't notice Rowan sprinting across the circle until he barrels into me, sinking his fangs into the side of my neck.

Screaming in pain, I roll, flipping him as I rip my skin out of his teeth. We grapple for control, but I toss him easily off me. I'm on him before he can rise, nipping at his throat to get him moving. I could end this fast, but that's not what it's about. It's practice; it's about control.

Rowan leaps and spins, knocking against me with his shorter but broader frame. But with the angle, it catches me slightly off guard. Good thing I'm always five steps ahead. I snap at his neck, sinking my fangs deep enough into his throat as he whines. I toss him from me, leaping before he even lands. He hits the ground and rolls, and I land in the spot where he just was.

He whips around and snarls, crouching as blood drips into the dirt from the shallow wounds I gave him.

This time, when he surges forward, I'm there and ready, shoving him so hard, he flips onto his back, exposing his belly. Before he can get up, I crush him with my larger body, hovering my teeth above his neck again. He struggles, moving every way he can to dislodge me, but like this it's no match. I'm physically bigger, and I weigh almost twice what he does—the benefit of being much older.

After ten minutes of scrambling and scratching and snapping, Rowan whines and drops his head back to the dirt, fully baring his neck for me. I lie on top of him for an extra minute, a reminder of who runs this pack.

When he remains still and silent under my dominance, I grumble in his ear, telling him we're fine, reminding him that the fight is done, and now we move on. It's an important part of this process, that reconnection at the end of a challenge. The wounds he inflicted on me are his victory, and he will take pride in them, but the ultimate win belongs to me.

He whines at my yips and snaps, staying prone as I rise off him and shift back into my human form. It's a testament to my dominance that I shift while he's still in wolf form—his claws could do incredible damage if he attacked now.

Not that he would.

After another long beat, the silent crowd breaks into heart-pounding cheers and shouts, congratulating him on a good challenge and me on the win. Rowan shifts into human form and grasps my hand when I reach for him. I pull him off the ground, bringing my mouth close to his ear. "Nicely fought, alpha," I murmur. "These damn wounds fucking hurt."

He pulls back and beams, bleeding from a gash over his eye and shallow teeth marks at his throat. "Thank you, Alpha. That was so damn fun!"

"Anytime," I say with a laugh.

"Tattoo!" he shouts, raising his arms. The crowd goes wild, repeating the chant while Rowan and I laugh.

Connall strides into the circle with us, a wooden box under one arm. He pats it and grins at Rowan. "Your turn, alpha. Congrats on a wonderful fight."

Rowan takes the box, then looks at me with a thoughtful expression. He turns, scanning the audience until his gaze falls on Lola. Then he glances back at me. "I think, technically, the princess is highest ranking here, right? If so, she should tattoo you to record the win."

I shudder as a chill sweeps over my entire body. Technically, Rowan's right. The politically correct thing to do would be to have the highest-ranking wolf tattoo my victory, but the idea of Lola doing it does things to me.

Case in point, my dick begins to harden against my thigh. While I'm naked in front of every fucking resident of Shifter Hollow.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you did it," I offer, praying he'll read between the lines of my tone and tattoo me himself.

Rowan smiles and waves at Lola to come over. I feel her before I even hear her pad softly into the circle with us.

His voice is quiet as he turns to me. "I'd like her to feel welcome. She'd appreciate the gesture, right?"

She joins us then, her dark gaze moving between the three of us, expression full of question. "Everything okay?"

Rowan hands the wooden box to her. "Princess, as our most welcome guest and the highest-ranking wolf in Shifter Hollow, it would be my honor if you would tattoo our Alpha's victory on my behalf."

Lola gasps, throwing a hand over her mouth. She looks between us again, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. When it's clear that Rowan's serious, she eyes the box. "Rowan, there's no need. I know it's a point of pride to do this yourself. Seriously, don't worry about me. I'm only visiting."

No, you're not, Big Daddy rumbles. We're never letting you leave.

Rowan shoves the box toward her. "Pretty sure, as a visiting diplomat, you technically can't decline a gift either, right?" He winks at her. "I've got a present for you, Princess."

Oh hells no. Rip his head off. This isn't care. He's flirting.

Cálmate,I command my wolf. Calm yourself.

Lola's eyes glisten as she takes the box from Rowan. "You're correct, Rowan; in which case, I'd be honored to mark Richard up for you."

Oh, fuuuuuck. She didn't mean those words the way I took them, but a sudden vision of her marking every inch of me with her teeth fills my mind as Big Daddy howls with pleasure at the thought.

Connall grabs one of Lola's hands and one of Rowan's and lifts them high, turning them to face the crowd. "Princess Lola is going to tattoo Alpha Richard on behalf of Alpha Woodcock. Let's hear it for a successful challenge!"

All the cheering in the world can't distract me from the only thing Big Daddy can focus on right now.

That scent.

That fucking scent.

Oranges. Clotted cream. She's a godsdamn fever dream spun up into the most sugary, beautiful vision I've ever seen, laughing politely as she cheers with the rest of the pack, pretending not to feel awkward at so much attention on her.

I resist a deep and desperate need to sweep her into my arms and?—

Do it already.Big Daddy's tone is bored.

I do my best to disagree with him, but it feels like using a bucket to stay a rising tide. No matter what, you're gonna drown. And that's how I feel watching Lola stand in the middle of my pack with such obvious joy around her.

She belongs here.

No,Big Daddy corrects. She belongs where we are. Wherever that is. Luna.

Before I catch my bearings, the crowd floods in, lifting Lola and me up until we're body surfing over their heads toward Bad Axe.

"Someone grab my clothes!" I shout, but it gets lost in the melee. Nobody hears a word until I'm dropped into a seat, naked as the day I was born. They dump Lola more carefully into a seat next to me, and someone shoves her close enough for our thighs to touch. I look over at my best friend's daughter, desperately trying to stop myself from thinking of her the way I am.

Why does it have to feel so natural to stare at her, to flirt, to think of her in a sensual way? Alaya, help me find restraint. Por favor. Please.

I give Lola an apologetic look as the crowd cheers and chants, stomping on the wide plank floor. Lights flicker as Bad Axe cheers along with the pack and both herds.

Lola grins and beams at the pressing crowd. Connall stands just behind her, keeping the group from hovering over her too badly.

She gives me a saucy look. "Put your arm on my leg please, Alpha."

The crowd hoots and shouts. Rowan stands to my right, also still naked. Shifters aren't fussed by nudity. We've all seen each other naked a million times; it's no different than being shifted. But when I lift my arm, placing it across Lola's jean-clad legs, my cock twitches against my thigh. I straighten and shift to the edge of the chair, ostensibly to get more space. But the reality is I need my dick to dangle down and not wave around like a damn homing beacon.

Despite the moving, cheering crowd around us, my eyes drift to Lola. She hands the box to Connall, who opens it so she can retrieve the tattoo gun from inside. It's imbued with magic. Every challenge—its participants and outcome—will be automatically recorded in a book at Hearth HQ the moment Lola tattoos my skin. It's a tradition begun when the haven system was created to ensure that all challenges get recorded and not lost to poor record-keeping. Winning records then get copied into a tome in Marco's office, designed to keep the king apprised of up-and-coming competitors.

Lola clicks the gun on like it's every day she tattoos someone, and turns to me with her painted black lips split into a teasing smile. "You ready, Alpha?"

Big Daddy flashes green through my eyes, and when I speak, his rougher tones echo through. "Mark me up, sweetheart. You promised."

The crowd cheers and stomps and screams, the noise reverberating off the ceiling and echoing back down. But somehow it feels like the only two people in this room are her and me. At my words, Lola's scent flares in intensity. Her eyes flick to mine and hold the stare, her wolf's amber flashing through her black irises.

"There you are," I murmur. I can't even stop myself. "Mark me, Lola," I command again. I'm dancing on the edge of something here, something momentous, something instinctual, something as old as our goddess herself.

Luna,Big Daddy practically moans. Touch us.

Lola's beautiful wide eyes drop to my arm. She wraps her left hand around my wrist, and my dick jerks at the possessive touch. A sudden vision of being tied down in my bed while she rides me hits me so hard, I grit my jaw to avoid panting and pulling her into my lap. All wolves are intensely sexual—pack alphas more so. Ironic that I'm not mated, because I should be fucking a pretty mate five times a day to keep my head on straight.

But I never found anyone I cared about enough to bring her into my life like that, much less someone fated to be mine.

You're lookin' at her, Alpha, Big Daddy breaks through my thoughts. She knows it, you know it, and I know it. All that matters.

I'm on the verge of denying it when I realize I can't, a wash of heady need flowing over me as she runs her right hand over the tick-mark tattoos covering my entire left forearm.

"So many wins," she murmurs, smiling up at me. "And now you've got one more."

My lips split into a grin as Big Daddy preens behind my bones. Lola finds a set of lines where there are just four, meaning a fifth would split across them and complete the set of five. She leans over my arm and positions the whirring tattoo gun while the crowd goes even wilder.

A glass breaks somewhere, liquid splashing the floor as Bad Axe creaks in reprimand. Someone's behind the bar slinging drinks and doing a bad job. But all of that dissipates at the sight of Lola's head bent low over my arm. She's so close. I want to bury my nose in her hair and scent every inch of her, to toss her against the wall and command her not to move while I touch her skin, learn where every freckle is, taste, lick.

The first pinch of the tattoo gun refocuses me. She presses hard but steady, moving the gun in a clean line. When her fingers tighten around my wrist, her scent blooming, I resist the urge to howl.

This is turning her on. She's dripping pheromones like a leaky faucet and it's all I can do not to drop to my knees and worship her.

Told you,Big Daddy snarks. Do something about this tension, for the love of our goddess.

"Good job," I murmur to the stunning woman by my side.

Her scent explodes into my senses, nearly knocking me back in the chair with its strength. My nostrils flare, eyes narrowing as I watch my prey. She cocks her head to the side, concentrating on the tattoo but giving me the perfect view of her neck. There's a spot within reach where I'd sink my fangs so deep, mark her permanently like she's marking me.

She's perfuming for us, Big Daddy howls.

And she is, beautifully. It's her body making its desires clear—she's attracted to me. There's nothing wrong with that. As nonplussed as shifters are about sex and nudity, pheromones are the same. They can't be controlled, and so they can be ignored when necessary. Scents are the undercurrent of shifter society. We know when to comment on them and when to shut the fuck up.

But to perfume like this, so strong, and for me? It's a target, and I desperately, desperately want to be the arrow in the center of the bullseye.

That's the worst analogy I've ever heard. Admit you wanna sink deep into that sweet princess pussy and filthy lick her from bottom to top.

I shove down the groan that builds in my throat, masking it as a cough as Lola finishes a perfectly straight tick-mark line.

She sits upright with a big, fake smile. She knows she's perfuming, and we're in front of everyone. "Done, Alpha. Congratulations."

"Thank you," I murmur as the crowd goes absolutely wild. Jewelry clangs, hooves stomp, drinks get thrown back. It's a rising cacophony of noises.

Someone starts chanting "pack run" at high volume, and the rest of the residents take up the battle cry. I laugh and look between Lola and Connall. "Pack run? We had planned to do this tomorrow, but moving it up a day works."

"I'm always down," Connall agrees, taking the tattoo gun from Lola when she offers it back to him. He's gracious, ignoring her scent as he tucks the gun back inside its ceremonial carved box. Goddess, he's gonna want to talk about this tomorrow when we do rounds.

Lola looks around at the screaming crowd. "There's no way to say no at this point."

Good, get naked,Big Daddy commands.

Around us, the other wolves have already begun to shed their clothes, shifting and running from the bar out into the street once more. The centaurs and pegasi follow, one nearly knocking the front doors off the hinges as he barrels through them and rockets into the night sky.

This isn't supposed to be sexual, but as Lola pulls her shirt over her head, revealing dark skin encased in beautiful, elegant lace, I let out the groan I'd held.

She looks up at me, releasing the clasp on her bra and tossing it on top of a nearby table. "You alright, Richard?" She reaches for her pants next, pushing the zipper down and stepping gracefully out of the fabric. Matching panties tease me until she slips those down her muscular thighs. She picks the clothing up and drops it into a pile with the bra and shirt while I resist the urge to throw her onto the table and bury my face between her thighs.

My entire body trembles, fingers twitching. I'm certain Big Daddy's light is shining from my eyes. Everyone has left the bar, and she stands gloriously naked in front of me, dark brown nipples pebbling to points under my stare. I drink her in, all the way to a bare, shaved pussy that makes my mouth go dry.

She spins slowly in place, teasing me, showing me the fullness of her beautiful ass, the twin dimples at the base of her spine. Gods. I'm panting, mouth open, nostrils flared as I scent air drenched with pheromones designed to attract me, specifically, because my fucking wolf is right, damn him.

Mine, he agrees.

Rational thought evades me as I step closer to her and press my fingers to her lower back. Flattening my palm, I run it up her spine, goose bumps trailing my touch. When I get to her neck, I tighten my grip around it and spin her to face me.

Wolfy amber eyes flash with need. "Richard," she pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her nipples brushing my bare chest.

Her eyes cut left at a sound. Growling, I whip around to see a shadow at the door. Someone's coming. Probably Connall to ask where the fuck we are.

She shifts in a flash. When she's all wolf, I stand in awe of her stunning body. Her fur is the deepest of blacks like her human hair; it even has a soft curl to it. Her coat is shorter than mine, the curly fur flat against her skin. Her eyes are the beautiful whiskey gold of her wolf, the same intelligence shining through.

The door slams open then. Two centaurs and Rowan yell at us to get moving.

I sense them from the corner of my focus, but I can't stop staring at Lola's beautiful wolf.

Big Daddy is anxious to get out and meet her for the first time.

For the love of Alaya, please behave,I caution him.

Pack run isn't for sex,he snaps at me. I'm not new at this, you know.

I relax my muscles, allowing my wolf to take over while I pray to Alaya that he doesn't decide to go rogue and mount her right here in the bar.

He barks out a laugh between us as I pray hard and allow him to take over.

My turn.