ugly head. Myles enjoyed attention from men and women, but no matter who it was, Reed was like a bear with a sore head for days when Myles got laid, and Myles was worse; so much so, I almost wanted to out him, just so the rest of us didn’t have to suffer.
I surveyed the rings. All of them were full today. The hall stank of sweat and blood, and grunts and shouts of pain drowned out any nearby conversations. Kawan, D and Owen were all training the new batch of males that had arrived on the same plane as Ember and had been claimed by a pack. Santa was with Owen where my beta could keep an eye on the volatile north wing alpha. Santa took his opponent, a west wing male, down to the mat, but instead of stopping there, he stomped on the male’s leg. The male howled in agony. Santa grinned widely and strutted around the ring like a fucking peacock...or just a cock.
My eyes narrowed. I might have kept Hudson’s ridiculous nickname, but he was a vicious fighter whose shoulder length blond hair and surfer good looks hid the psycho beneath. I called Owen over. “Put him back with his own pack. There’ll be less major injuries that way. He won’t feel as threatened by them. I need these males in good enough condition to fight in the next games, and he’s going to make them useless. Just warn him to tone it back.”
“He’s a reckless shit, so what do you want me to do if he doesn’t listen?” Owen flexed his fists, his eyes flashing yellow.
I patted his back. “Not yet, my friend. But alpha or not, I’ll let you kick his arse if he doesn’t settle down.”
“You’re giving him a chance to play by your rules, huh?”
“Yeah, he doesn’t know what’s really going on yet, but he will soon. And I don’t have the time to deal with filling an alpha spot if you take him out. We’ll see what happens at the games,” I said and left him to deal with Santa.
Rawson hadn’t yet emerged from the cell he now shared with Owen. I didn’t blame him. It must be liberating to know he wouldn’t be forced to partially change and do Doherty’s dirty work, even for a little while.
I tried not to watch the door for Ember. The notion of her with Drake made me want to break something, and I wanted to see her so badly it was hard not to go and rip her away from the clutches of the other male. Being with that other woman last night hadn’t calmed my urge to be with Ember, but it had made me realise I didn’t want any other female in my bed—or against the wall, or anywhere else, for that matter. I’d finished with the brunette so quickly it was almost embarrassing, but I’d needed her away from me, her scent and her touch had left me needing a shower. Thankfully, she’d left without any fuss, and I’d done just that.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, then rolled my head, trying to loosen up my neck and back muscles. My fists were sore from yesterday and would take at least the morning to heal. I’d had time to think on the way I tried to bulldoze Ember into doing as I wanted. I was still angry and disappointed, but more at myself than her. How could she understand how much she meant to me, when I didn’t bloody tell her, or give her a chance to get to know me again? Fuck, I’d never actually spoken to her about our bond, not even after I’d kissed her and run from her years ago. That had been right before I’d gotten myself in this shitty situation. And after I knew she was alive and accepted she was in fact, my Firecracker, I’d just gone all alpha-prime possessive on her and tried to make her do what I wanted, without giving her a chance to even think; let alone for me to prove I wasn’t as coldhearted as it looked from her point of view.
I prowled between the rings, advising and teaching both defensive and offensive moves, trying not to look like a teenager waiting for his first crush to walk in the room. Ember had always been stubborn and stood up to me, even when we were kids. If I’d tried to make her do anything, she’d always told me