The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(86)

“Damn it, Una. It’s not safe for you alone in town. Let alone Mari and Annie. How many wins do you have between you?”

The answer is none. Females fight rarely, and then usually only those contending for alpha rank. Cheryl won her position more through lack of interest than prowess.

“We sell honey and herbs. It’s not fight club. It’s a farmer’s market.”

“You’re not that na?ve. You can’t be.”

She heads down the path toward the commons, and I shorten my stride to keep pace with her. She’s hustling a little more than usual, but the speed is still painfully slow. At least by the time we get to the lodge, dinner will be served, and our original point of disagreement will be moot.

I’m grouchy, starving, and even though I know she’s trying to pick up the pace, we’re basically taking one step at a time like a bride toward the altar.

And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. My heart soars, and Una looks over at me. Her brow wrinkles. She felt that through the bond.

I offer her a wry grin.

“What are you so happy about?” she grumbles.

“Smells like venison tonight.” The rich, gamey scent is in the air.

We both know I’m lying, and she grunts, but she lets it be. We’re approaching the lodge now. There’s more than the usual number of males hanging around on the front porch. We’re a good half hour late. Everyone should be digging in right about now.

It’s not until I escort Una through the front doors that I realize I’ve thrown a wrench in the works. Cheryl’s standing by the dais, arms folded, glaring down her nose. No one’s been served.

Annie, Mari, and Kennedy are standing at the kitchen door, laden trays propped on their hips, looking tired and pissed. There’s a general grumbling and more than the usual number of squalling babies.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Una looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Cheryl doesn’t let us serve until you’re here.”

“No?” I hadn’t noticed. Of course, I’m rarely late for a meal.

And then inspiration strikes. Didn’t my mate say something about a buffet? Instead of heading for the dais, I make my way toward the kitchen.

The table furthest back is a bunch of pre-shift males. I moved them back here the first day I became alpha. They eat like animals.

“Clear off.” I snap and point to another far corner. They scramble, leaving a half dozen gum wrappers and a weird puddle. I grab the slowest one by the back of his shirt. “Go get a bucket. Wipe down this table. You have sixty seconds.”

I let my wolf growl his displeasure. The pup gets it done in forty-five.

Then I take the tray from Mari. “Come on.” I nod for Annie and Kennedy to follow.

I unload the plates on the table, buffet-style, grabbing the best-looking cuts of meat on my way back up front.

“Help yourselves.” I gesture to the overflowing table. “Elders first. Then pups and females. Males last. Like you’re getting on a life raft.”

The grumbling gets louder, some growls thrown in. My wolf alerts, his fur prickling up my spine. He’s not mad. He’s ready for a challenge that he can actually win. He’s on a solid losing streak with Una Hayes.

I soothe him with the promise of venison and our mate. She’s still standing in the entrance, baffled and blushing as she worries the tip of her braid.

The elders are lining up with their plates, perfectly content with the new set up.

I grin at my mate, and I restrain myself from asking if she’s happy now. Instead, I gesture her toward my accustomed place in front of the fireplace.

Her gaze darts to the back of the room, but her roommates have disappeared into the kitchen. I duck aside for a second and tell Tye to keep an eye on the back exit. Make sure none of our lone females use their new free time to run off and do shit that gives me ulcers.

Una makes her way to the dais. She’s self-conscious. Her leg’s dragging pretty badly at this point.

At the dais, I lift her. There’s only one folding chair. Cheryl’s off overseeing the new buffet, and everyone else is either bitching or staring at us like we’re the floor show.

I guide Una to sit. She does, all stiff and twitchy. I snap at the B-roster table, and they all surge to their feet. Gael’s the fastest, even though he’s with A-roster. He turns, snatches Finn’s chair from under his ass, and hands it to Jimmy to bring over.

I knew I liked that kid.

I sink down, smirking, and tear a hunk of meat off a backstrap filet. It’s good. Smoky.

I rip off another bite and hold it up to Una’s mouth. She makes me wait a few seconds before she goes for it with her fingers. I snatch it back.

“Open up.”

“You’re not feeding me.”

I give the dish in my lap a meaningful look. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re not putting it in my mouth.”

I don’t smirk, but my dick rises hard and sudden. I have to steady the plate.

“You wanted a buffet. You got a buffet.” I wave at the anarchy below us.

A-roster has cut the line. A scuffle has broken out between two pups. Cheryl’s given up. She’s commandeered a table and filled it with a few purloined plates. Her usual court is gathered around, whispering to each other, glowering with well-fed disapproval at the general disorder.