The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(91)

I can see the wheels turning.

“No one in this pack will challenge me now, will they?”

I shake my head. “Nope. They know I’d rend them limb from limb.”

“So I’m the de facto alpha female?”

“You’re the alpha female.”

Through the bond, I sense the confusion and awe as she comes to understand. I lead her back to her chair. Cheryl rushes over to coax Haisley out from under the table.

A few low conversations start, but mostly, there is uneasiness in the hall. Eamon and his contingent have taken their seats. No one seems certain of what comes next.

Truth be told, neither am I.

Una absently rebraids her hair, frowning. I don’t like it. Maybe some more meat would perk her up. I snap and point, and Gael brings over a platter. Una ignores it.

After a long time, she finally speaks. “It is dangerous to go into town.”

“Alone, yes.” There’s no way around it. Last Pack and human traffickers are a real threat.

“I was putting the girls in danger.”

I don’t answer. I can’t soften the truth. I feel her guilt, and I wish I could soothe her, but living with your own shitty decisions comes with being alpha.

“But it isn’t fair to keep us locked up and beholden, either. It isn’t right.”

I grunt. Sometimes the choice isn’t between right and wrong. It’s between the bad and the less bad. She knows this. She’s been leading her own little pack for almost as long as I have.

She thinks for a time. Folks relax and get up for a second helping. Mari and Annie come around with tea and coffee. Voices rise.

“A pack’s strength is in numbers,” she finally says. “We’ll just have to go to town in a big group.”

She’s so serious, I fight my smile. It is the logical conclusion, and there’s gonna be no shortage of unmated males who’d like to take a morning off training to escort a bunch of females to market. I’m gonna have to come up with a rotation. Maybe an incentive system. Now my wheels are turning.

There’s still an unsettledness in the air. Maybe there’s no time like the present to show the folks that change can be good—and impress upon them all one last time that the highest-ranking wolf in any pack is that one who rules the alpha.

“If we were to go to town now, mate, what could we do there?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“You want to go to town now?”

I nod.

She searches my eyes, and I feel her nosing around the bond, trying to ferret out my intentions. “I don’t think much is open this late except maybe the bars?

“We’re not going to a bar. What else is there?”

She thinks. “Well, we could get ice cream.”

“Yeah?” Wolves aren’t that big on dairy.

“Mari and Annie love it.”

“It’s from cows right?” If it comes from a cow, it could be good.

“Yeah.”

“All right. Let’s go for ice cream in a big, safe group.” I help her to her feet and address the lodge. “Who else is coming to town for ice cream?”

The place erupts. Pups start begging. Half of the elders shake their heads, aghast, while the other half help each other up and grab their shawls and hats.

“Bring your girls,” I tell Una. I’m not leaving them alone with a frustrated Eamon and company. Lochlan’s sulking at the B-roster table, about to blow. He’s got a ‘roided up look about him.

Una smiles and waves her girls over. My wolf begins to relax. The pack is acting like itself again, each member worried about himself. Challenge averted. For now.

I have no doubt that this shit will come to a head soon, but not tonight. I wave Ivo over and tell him to tap Gael and a few other trusted wolves to stay back and keep an eye on Eamon’s faction. Then, I escort my mate toward the door. Her roommates trot along behind us, and as we go, the sound of scraping chairs and arguments rise behind us.

Tradition versus change.

The same-old, same-old versus ice cream.

Not for the first time, I marvel that such major shit hinges on such small things.

I park in the lot by the commissary, and it’s a short walk. I send Fallon for my keys. The packmates choosing adventure follow as we make our way slowly down the path toward the commons. The sun is setting, and the foothills are a solid black outline blending into the deep purple of the evening sky. It’s a beautiful night.

My tension isn’t set aside; it’s gone. My enemies’ machinations have no consequence when Una leaves her hand in mine after I grab it to help her navigate a root in the path.

Behind us, there are whispers tinged with excitement. I hear Conor and Jimmy. Dierdre and Liam. Nuala. Dermot. Old Noreen. Ashlynn. Tye, oddly enough. And behind them there’s a parade of other mated pairs with their young. The longer we walk, the freer their laughter, the louder their voices.

“What’s ice cream?” a small voice asks at the top of his lungs.

“Like thick milk,” an elder female replies.

“That’s gross.”

“Yes, but I’m not missing this for nothin’.”

Una hides a smile. Our bond pulses. “You’re really taking us for ice cream,” she says.

“Yup.”