Alphas burden

There are only two ways to become a pack alpha—inherit it from the existing bloodline, or to take it by issuing a challenge to fight for the right to rule.

Shifters honor strength above all. The strongest survive. The strongest maintain the highest rank in the hierarchy.

I snag a roll from a table when I pass by, pleased it's still warm. It’s a shame I didn’t bring my satchel. I could’ve stocked up more for the girls. Maybe someone has an unattended bag they won’t notice by the time they shift.

My lips twitch while nibbling on the roll, a plan forming to stick around longer than I intended. The elders always run for the shortest amount of time, just long enough to stretch their old bones before they return to hang around the fire to continue gossiping. I’ll have enough time to raid the feast and be out of here before they’re back.

The roll tastes great, though my stomach clenches. I’m usually hungrier in the colder months because I make sure my sisters are fed first, but this is more difficult to ignore. I finish it and sneak another from a different table. By the time I’ve grabbed a third one, I’m restless with a craving I can’t sate.

I want more, but the drumstick I find abandoned on a plate doesn’t appeal. Making a discontented noise, I change directions to see what’s cooking on the grills.

The sight of Caden across the fire pit stops me in my tracks.

He’s with a few of his guys from the patrol crew, drinking a beer and actually smiling for once, though it’s not his full smile. I don’t know if he smiles like he used to anymore.

He hasn’t noticed me tonight. I should move on to keep it that way. Instead, I’m rooted in place, admiring the way the firelight dances off his muscled arms.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a smooth voice taunts beside my ear.

I whip around to find Lorne Blackburn. Shit. The only person worse than Caden to gain the attention of leers at me like a predator sizing up his prey. Cormac’s eldest son is three years older than Caden and he’s inherited everything from his father, including his shrewd mind.

“I was just leaving,” I say.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave yet.”

He circles me, assessing me from head to toe while I remain frozen in place. His lips curve at the pack tucked beneath my arm.

“Oh good, you brought more meat. Nice to see you’re finally settled into your place here after so many years skulking around when your father was put down,” he croons.

My grip tightens when he tries to take it. I hold on a moment longer because it’s mine. He uses his height and broad stature to intimidate me, flashing his fangs lengthening in his mouth. His posturing doesn’t scare me, but it will draw everyone else’s attention if he makes a big scene.

I release it, holding my hands up. My chin juts out and my gaze cuts to the side.

“There’s a good little bitch,” Lorne says with a satisfied snicker.

Asshole.

He takes my chin, wrenching my head to the side to sniff at my throat. Bile rises from my stomach in a rush. I shove against his chest to break free. His cruel blue eyes glint. They’re like Caden’s, but dark and shadowy.

“Just making sure you know to respect your superiors. One day things will change around here and you’d better fall in line. Disobedient females will learn the hard way that it’s better to bend the neck.”

He’s always spouting the same opinions as his father about how this pack should be run. About how we’d be better off living in the old ways—females silent, pushing out pups, and at the beck and call of the males.

No matter how much I want to shout and scream in his face for his vile opinions, I don’t respond. It’s the best way I’ve learned to get out of interacting with him as quickly as possible. I hate myself for it, but I bow my head the barest amount to show my submission. Best I get out of this now rather than have him drag me to Caden and claim I’m a problem for taking a hunk of flesh from his hide with my bare nails.

Lorne frowns, sloshing the rest of his drink into his mouth and sauntering off. I guess he’s grown bored of me without any reaction on my part. If my situation was different, if I wasn’t a pack outcast, then I’d feel safe enough to challenge him.

Because men like him don’t want the demure women they go on about. He wants to goad me into exploding before he puts me in my place.

My chest expands with a pissed off rumble stronger than anything I should be able to produce with my vocal chords. I blink, touching my throat.

Lorne turns back. I hurry away and write off the growl as a figment of my imagination.

My plan to steal what I could of the leftover food goes up in flames before my eyes. With Lorne tracking every move I make, I won’t be able to go u

The weird hunger pangs return. I eye the tables of food and none of it appeals to me.

I’m ready to leave. There’s no reason to stick around to watch them all shift. It’s foolish of me to spend more time than I have to amongst a pack that looks down on⁠—

A scent hits me, strong and intense and delicious. I whip my head around, lifting my nose to catch it again, greedily inhaling more. I immediately want to be enveloped in it.

The earthy musk of cedar and oakmoss is so comforting, so right. It’s the feeling of walking barefoot in my favorite meadow. The taste of the mists coming off the falls.

What is this? Who smells this amazing?

The scent leads me closer. At first I have no idea what’s come over me, or why I’m being pulled hard by this instinctive need to track the scent.

Mate.

Oh. That makes sense.

Wait—no it doesn’t. How can I have a mate?

It doesn’t matter. My thoughts slip away. I’m driving purely on instinct.

I need to get over there, need to claim him—my mate.