The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(88)

Una tenses. I nod. “You know this.”

“You have our congratulations. I am sure I speak for the pack when I wish you many, healthy sons.”

Una’s teeth squeak when they grind. I incline my head, acknowledging his words. And I note what he does not say. He did not wish Una well, nor bend his neck to her in deference.

That was a mistake.

And this farce of congratulation is not why Eamon has stepped forward.

“Speak your piece,” I tell him. Generally, my lieutenants will corner me in private to bitch so as not to risk rank. I like this new direct approach. I can shut down whatever nonsense this is in public. Once and done.

“We had visitors this afternoon. Human enforcers. From the town.”

My gaze flies to Tye. His expression is contained, but his temple tics. He didn’t know either. I shift forward in my chair. Well, this is some bullshit. Since when does my pack keep secrets from me?

Una shifts in her chair. Well, I guess some have all along.

“And?” I keep my gaze on Eamon, but I clock Lochlan in my periphery. He’s the fool with ambitions. The mutt who chases the car and wouldn’t know what to do if he caught it.

“They came to offer a friendly warning. Apparently, you assaulted a human at their market?” There are gasps.

Eamon can hardly mask how much he’s getting off on calling out the alpha.

I shrug. My wolf pushes forward. He wants out. He knows he can make quick work of this half-assed challenge. An image flashes in my brain, three mangled, bloody bodies piled in front of Una. A tribute.

She wouldn’t like it.

Her wolf would, but she wouldn’t.

I sigh. “And?” I prompt Eamon when he doesn’t go on.

“Your mate left pack territory without protection.” Murmurs erupt around the room. Nuala shakes her white head. Yeah, I don’t like it either.

“We were told she has been doing this for some time. And on occasion, the other lone females have, as well.”

The murmuring increases in volume. Gazes fly to the erstwhile buffet table where Mari and Annie had been clearing dishes. Now they’re huddled together, frozen. Scared.

Unacceptable.

I clear my throat, drawing attention back to me. “What’s your point?”

“And your mate is permitted a phone.”

I wouldn’t use the word “permitted,” but yeah, I suppose so. I nod.

All the females burst into stage whispers. Eamon has to raise his hand for silence.

“And we’re to take it that any female may do likewise? Gallivant around the human town, bury her nose in a phone, ignore her young, get seduced away from her mate and her duties to the pack by the cesspool of the human internet?” His voice gathers volume until it booms on the last word.

The females collectively lean forward with bated breath.

Una has become very still beside me. She is waiting for me to disappoint her. The bitterness taints our bond.

I lean forward and steeple my fingers. It would be so much easier to beat some ass. I still might.

The end goal is so clear. Protect the females and young. But the way there is so damn muddy.

I’m not stupid. I know that just because you forbid a thing does not mean it is not done. It means it’s done in secret. I’ve been content to tell myself the lone females only indulged in a little wine, a little smoke. The young only sneak off to the border of our territory to steal a bone and win a dare. Elders only cuff females and young every once in a while, and not too hard. Not like they used to.

Nothing’s perfect. But it’s better. I’ve made it so.

And then, as they have been all day, a memory flashes to the forefront of my mind. The bed of a truck, metal slick with blood. Una, slight and pale as death, her brown hair soaked a rust red. My mother and the crone at the tailgate.

“Let us have her now.” The crone beckons with her hand.

I bare my fangs and crouch lower.

My mother leans as close as she can, laying a slender hand on my massive paw. “You can’t protect her like this. You need to trust us. We know what to do.”

I remember now. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Letting the females take my mate away.

And how I knew then what I needed to do. How I could make sure no one ever hurt her again.

I had to change everything.

They took her, and I collapsed, and there are no other memories until I woke up weeks later. My father told me I’d caught a terrible fever after shifting younger than any male in recorded history, and I’d beat it because I was the strongest of my generation, destined for greatness.

And I figured then it was good I was the strongest because it was gonna take some big balls and righteous ass-kicking to fix this backwards pack.

I never questioned why I needed to do it. It seemed obvious. The pack was fucked up.

This is fucked up.

Why am I overthinking? This is a challenge. I know what to do with them.

I stand. Eamon shuffles almost imperceptibly back on his heels. I grin.

And then I look down at my mate. Her eyes are eating up her face, her wolf close to the surface, ready to follow me into battle. My wolf grumbles. He’s insulted that she thinks he needs help.

I don’t mind. She’s not gonna lift a finger, but the way she’s subtly measuring the distance between her and Eamon makes me hard. And weirdly warm in my chest.