The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(89)

I need to teach her to fight. Her wolf’s obviously the sort that’s gonna keep getting her in trouble.

“What do you say, mate?” I ask her. “Can any female go gallivanting around town?”

Her eyes spark. She draws herself up. “Yes. If they want to.”

I expect a few shouts and a lot of pearl clutching, but it’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

“But what about outcast wolves? Humans with bad intentions?”

She shifts a little in her seat, but she doesn’t lower her head an inch. “We can go in partners. Or with a male if he’s free. But we shouldn’t have to ask permission.”

“Seems fair.”

“It is fair.”

“And any female can have a phone?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. And then she casts Eamon a black look. “And mothers are not going to neglect their young, and I think that’s pretty rich coming from a male when everyone knows the fathers in this pack don’t lift a finger to help until their sons are old enough to go into the ring.” She folds her arms.

At the elder tables, wizened faces turn bright red.

Eamon coughs. “All due respect, but Una Hayes ain’t my alpha,” he says.

I crack my neck. This is not going to be my proudest moment—handing an old wolf his ass in front of the whole pack—but I’m going to enjoy it all the same.

I crack my neck again, twisting to the other side.

And then, a murmuring from the A-roster table erupts and a chair screeches across the linoleum. There is a collective gasp. I fully expect to see Alfie or maybe that lost pup Fallon throwing his lot in with the opposition, but it’s a female. Haisley.

I haven’t spoken to her—or thought about her—since my wolf dumped her from our lap when he leapt to attack Gael. She’s not looking at me. She’s got Una in her sights.

My wolf snarls, and it’s all I can do to keep him down, but this needs to play out.

I search for Cheryl, and she’s hanging back by the elder table, nose in the air. So Haisley has the alpha female’s blessing for whatever’s about to go down. Noted.

Beside me, Una stiffens. I ball my fist so I don’t reach for her, but I focus on the bond, send her every reassurance I can. She is the strongest wolf here. I’ve got her back. No matter what.

She waits while Haisley struts forward to stand in the middle of the open floor. Haisley’s dressed for her moment, high-heeled black boots, tight red top, and tighter jeans. She comes to a halt, smiles, and sucks her front teeth like she’s checking for lipstick.

There’s simmering rage coming through the bond. The wolf is loud in the mix.

Tell her to sit her ass down, I send through the link, but I don’t think it works that way. It’s not like text messaging.

Una ignores me, tracking Haisley’s every move. The flip of her poofy blonde hair. The hip cock. The room is silent except for the occasional cough.

Finally, Haisley speaks. “I have a question, Alpha.” She’s looking at Una though, a smirk playing on her red stained lips.

“Go.”

“I was attacked—unprovoked and unchallenged—by Una Hayes.”

She pauses. I don’t know for what. We all saw it. I grunt to move shit along.

“I won. By our laws, I rank. And I demand to be heard.”

Everybody’s fucking listening. I gesture for her to cut to the chase.

“I say females must not be allowed to risk our males’ lives for foolish escapades off territory. Last Pack will stop at nothing to restore their numbers. They don’t care if a female is mated. They just want bodies. Mark my words, they will attack, the human authorities will come down on us, and there will be war among the packs. And for what? What is so hard about the lot of a lone female with no pups to tend and everything provided for them?”

That’s an interesting complaint from a mated female with no pups and everything provided for her.

There is some rumbling from the younger females at the tables toward the back.

“Una Hayes—who has never won a challenge—wants to destroy our traditions and put our males in danger—put our very territory in danger—and for what? Her fucking hobby?”

This sounds nothing like Haisley. I’ve never heard anything from her mouth but purring and flattery. These are Eamon’s words.

I glance down and over. Una’s maintaining eye contact with Haisley, and her stance is solid. She’s clearly pissed, but she’s also uncertain. I can feel it all—including her wolf’s instinctive fear of an adversary who bested her. It pains me, and riles the hell out of my wolf, but I hold course.

Folks don’t fully understand this quite yet—Una doesn’t either—but my mate is the most powerful wolf here now. She can make her own calls.

And then Haisley adds, as if it’s an afterthought and not an obvious incitement, “Maybe the lone females need to spend a night back in the basement so they can remember to be thankful for what this pack allows them.”

The room was quiet, but now it’s absolutely silent. Not even the creak of a bench. You can hear the lights hum.

Una’s eyes seem wider until I realize the brown has changed. It’s a mellow cognac now, shining and alive. It’s her wolf.

She steps forward. “You shut your mouth.”