The Reluctant Alpha (West Coast Wolves #1) - Susi Hawke Page 0,41

kid didn't know how to escape, he's obviously no son of mine. I thought I'd washed my hands of him, so imagine my surprise feeling a loss in the pack bond. Sure, it wasn't more than a chunk of weaker pack members left to hold down the fort in Lucerne, but they wasn't yours to take. Neither was my kid. He shoulda faced his fate like a man."

I knew Elisha was approaching, but Monty hadn't been paying attention to anyone but me. At Elisha’s sharp gasp, he jerked. Anger coiled in my gut at the hurt etched on my sweet little wolf's face. When Monty started talking again, it was all I could do to clench my fists and remember these were the words of a dying man. Monty was going down.

"Speak of the devil and here comes my runt. Stand up straight, boy. Don't embarrass me any more than you already are by being here." Monty glared back at me. "What kind of an alpha doesn't know to leave the omega at home? Especially one so fat with a dead man's pup. I don't know what to make of you, son. But if you're gonna let your omega boss you around, maybe I'll be doing you a service helping you find your way out of this world today."

My teeth were clenched so tightly I could barely speak properly. "I'm not your son, thank fuck. As for the single person present who actually is? Elisha is my equal, not my property or a thing to be hidden. You don't get to talk to him. Hell, I don't want you even looking at him. He might be my equal, but Elisha is also mine to protect. And avenge. If you think I'm challenging you because of Horace or the pack you stole, think again. Reclaiming the Lucerne Valley pack members is secondary to repaying you for nearly causing Elisha's death."

Monty’s answering smile didn't reach his cold, flat eyes. "Mighty brave words from a dying man. Maybe someone will carve your lofty bullshit on your tombstone. Yeah, the part about you thinking an omega could ever be equal to an alpha will look mighty poetic until your grave marker fades and crumbles under the desert sun, like the bones of you and that omega you're so hell-bent on protecting."

When I growled, a man somewhere between us in height rushed up and pushed us apart. I prepared to tell the stocky, dark-haired man with gray at the temples to fuck off. So fast it nearly knocked me on my ass, a powerful wave of alpha pheromones came off him. I didn't need the badge pinned to his chest to know who’d interrupted us.

I gave a terse nod. "TC Woodlawn, I presume. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

After Monty and I both took a full step back, he dropped his hands with an aw, shucks grin. "Come on now. I already told you to call me Ash. How about we forget this business here and take it into the ring where it belongs?" Turning, he waved a hand toward the large, circular area raked free of loose rocks or plants and bordered with a ring of evenly sized stones. Even now, the spectators took their places around the circle, placing bets and getting ready for the spectacle of violence they had come to see.

Ash turned back, lifting an eyebrow as if asking for my approval. "As guaranteed by Supreme Council rule, you've got one brand-new, unused, regulation-sized challenge ring ready to go. You're welcome to measure it, of course. I can promise my own personal deltas built it, and we've had eyes on it since it was completed to prevent any tampering."

My nostrils flared as I sucked in a deep breath. Jerking my head from side to side to stretch my neck, I huffed my approval. "Looks good enough to me, Ash. And even if it didn't, I would still respect you enough to take you at your word. Anything I need to know before we proceed?"

Glancing back and forth between Monty and me, Ash ran over the basic rules. "Y'all already know what's what, but I have to tell you anyway. Since both of you have already agreed this is to be a full challenge and not a first blood duel, those rules apply. You can take as long as you want to step inside the ring, but once you do, nobody leaves until we have a clear winner. Two will enter,