Alpha

  “She’s right,” Malone said finally. “She has the right to fair consideration.” But we all knew that consideration was a far cry from confirmation. “Are you ready now?”

  Ready to commence with the sexism and humiliation? “The sooner, the better.”

  Malone extended one arm toward the hallway in a grand, faux-generous gesture. “We’ll convene in the dining room.”

  Ten minutes later, everyone was in place. Enforcers sat in folding chairs along three of the four walls. Malone sat at the head of the long table, with his allies seated on his right and my father’s allies—plus Paul Blackwell—on his left, each group separated by an unseen but almost palpable political gulf, as well as the broad, slick slab of mahogany.

  I’d told my newly sworn enforcers to sit directly behind me on purpose, so that I couldn’t accidentally glance at them. Comfort and encouragement from loved ones could easily be seen as weakness from a potential Alpha. My uncle, Bert Di Carlo, and Aaron Taylor had my back, and Paul Blackwell had no more interest in supporting Malone than in supporting me, but I couldn’t count on any of them. This was my show. My responsibility. My chance to demonstrate to not just the other Alphas, but to every tom in the room, that I had what it would take to lead and protect my Pride.

  In spite of their gender bias and general distrust.

  Yet when I stood at the foot of the table, facing the men who held the future of my Pride in their collective hands, my first thought was, Damn, I really hate this room.

  Nothing good ever seemed to happen in the main lodge dining room.

  “Okay, Faythe, tell us how your father died.”

  For one long, painful moment, I could only stare at Malone in shock. He knew damn well what had happened to my dad; he was just trying to shake me up by making me relive the whole thing. Again.

  “Dean shot him, Calvin,” Di Carlo snapped, glaring at the council chair from three seats away. “I see no reason to waste time recounting something we all know.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, struggling to make my voice come out loud and firm. If I was too fragile to talk about my father’s death, I wasn’t strong enough to be an Alpha, and I would not give them a new reason to vote against me. They already had plenty of those. “He was shot in the chest, and he died about half an hour later, on the couch in our cabin.”

  “And you claim that before he died, he named you his primary heir?”

  “Yes.”

  “In front of witnesses?” Mitchell asked, eyes gleaming with morbid curiosity better suited to a morgue tour than a formal Territorial Council meeting.

  “Yes. Including three other Alphas,” my uncle said, though I was almost positive none of them had actually heard what my father had said to me.

  “And is it your belief that you can lead and protect the south-central Pride as well as your father did?” Malone asked, and his cold hint of a grin raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Trick question. There was no correct answer. If I claimed to be as good a leader, I’d be an arrogant liar, but if I admitted inferiority, I’d be unfit.

  Lesser of two evils, Faythe…

  “No one can run the south-central Pride as well as my father. All I can do is work hard to reach my own potential and hope that would make him proud.”

  “What if your potential isn’t good enough?” Wes Gardner’s voice was soft, but his expression was cold and even. “Do you really think it’s fair of you to condemn your Pride to less than the best possible leadership if it turns out that your ambition doesn’t fall in line with what they really need?”

  My hands were damp with cold sweat, and I didn’t know what to do with them. “Of course not. Ambition is the death of good leadership.” I was unreasonably proud of myself for not glancing pointedly at Malone. “But what if I am what they really need? What if they need someone who knows them better than they know themselves? Someone who understands their strengths and weaknesses, because she’s learned from her own victories and mistakes? Someone who understands the value of advice and guidance from those who have already been where she is now? Someone who loves them more than anything else in the world, and would do whatever it takes to lead and protect them?”

  “Even if that means stepping down to make room for someone more qualified?” Paul Blackwell asked softly, and my next breath chilled something deep within my chest.

  Always before, when I’d spoken to the council, my father was there to tell me how I was doing with a tiny nod or frown. But this time, I was flying blind, with no view of the runway. A crash landing was my greatest fear.

  “Yes,” I said at last. “If I found someone better qualified to lead them, then yes, I would step down. As I hope any good Alpha would. But right now, there is no one better suited for this job than I am. At least, not according to my father.”

  “And what if he was wrong?” Malone folded his hands on top of the table, eyeing me steadily. Daring me to answer.

  A long, silent breath slipped from me while I tried to decide whether my answer would even matter. Then I blinked and met his gaze boldly. “It’s my job to make sure he wasn’t.”

  Silence met my reply. The Alphas exchanged unreadable glances, and behind me, several enforcers fidgeted in their seats.

  I couldn’t breathe. Was that it? No more questions?

  “I think we’re ready to hear from the council members.” Malone stood, now facing me from the other end of the long table, and though I’d come into the meeting expecting a resounding defeat, I still found my skin prickled with goose bumps in anticipation. “Gentlemen, you will each have a chance to speak. You may recognize Ms. Sanders as Alpha, refuse to recognize her, or decline to speak.”

  He met my gaze then, and I stood straighter, tugging my blouse into place. “If you’re recognized by five of the Alphas, you will be considered recognized by the council at large.”

  I nodded. Nothing new there.

  Malone glanced at my uncle, who sat closest to me on the right side of the table. “Rick?”

  My uncle smiled, the first friendly expression I’d seen since the meeting began. “I recognize Faythe Sanders as Alpha of the south-central Pride.”

  I gave him a small nod of thanks, but Malone had already moved on. “Bert?”

  Di Carlo met Malone’s gaze boldly. “I recognize Faythe Sanders as Alpha of the south-central Pride.”

  “Aaron?”

  Taylor hesitated, but only for a moment. “I recognize Faythe Sanders as Alpha of the south-central Pride.”

  Malone frowned, but he made no comment. “Milo?”

  Milo Mitchell shot me a withering glance of contempt. “I refuse to recognize Faythe Sanders as an Alpha. Hell, I ought to refuse to recognize her as a tabby, for shirking her real duty for so long.”

  I closed my eyes, clenching my teeth to hold back the profanity-riddled retort that wanted to spew forth.

  Malone restrained a smile, but his eyes practically glittered with pleasure. “Wes?”

  Wesley Gardner stared at the table. “I refuse to recognize Faythe Sanders as Alpha of the south-central Pride.”

  “Paul?”

  Blackwell gripped his cane and sat silently for a moment. Then he looked up at me from across the table. “For the moment, I decline to speak.”

  I actually breathed a silent sigh of relief and managed to unclench one fist at my side. Declining to speak was infinitely better than refusing to recognize, which was what I’d expected from him. Declining to speak meant I might later be able to convince him that my father knew what he was doing. That I was right for the job.

  “Nick?”

  Davidson squirmed in his chair, and the resemblance to his motherless seven-year-old daughter was suddenly obvious. “I decline to speak at this time.”

  I’d never in my life been so thrilled with a nonanswer, and Malone’s frown was like the cherry on top.

  “Jerald?” Malone said, and all eyes focused on Parker’s father, the final vote.

  “I refuse to acknowledge Fayt
he Sanders as Alpha of anything but her own imagination. And frankly, I’m insulted by her arrogance.”

  For a long moment, Malone let Pierce’s final statement hang on the air, so it could be properly absorbed, and I could do nothing but fume silently.

  “That’s only recognition by three Alphas,” the new council chair said at last, in case anyone wasn’t keeping count, and my cheeks flamed. Yes, I’d been expecting it, but that didn’t make humble pie taste any better. “So my decision isn’t really necessary. But I’m going to give it to you, anyway.” That time, when his gaze met mine, the corner of his mouth actually twitched, obviously itching to turn up.

  “Faythe Sanders, I refuse to acknowledge you as Alpha of the south-central Pride.”

  I nodded curtly, already turning toward the door. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. But Malone’s next words brought me to a halt.

  “However, out of respect for your father, I am going to grant you a cease-fire, so he can be properly buried.” I started to thank him, in spite of his ironic use of the word respect, but Malone wasn’t done talking. “And out of respect for your Pride and its tragic loss, I’m going to give you that same length of time to present an Alpha worthy of recognition by this council. If you are unable to come up with such an Alpha in the allotted time, we will appoint one.”

  What?

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breathe. He couldn’t do that. An Alpha had never before been appointed by anyone other than the outgoing Alpha, and even that was usually just a formality during his official retirement.

  My cheeks flamed. My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I couldn’t unclench them. A familiar burning began behind my eyes, and for a moment I couldn’t decide whether that heat heralded more tears or a partial Shift.

  “You don’t have the authority for that. There’s no precedent…” I began, only moderately relieved to see that Taylor, Di Carlo, Blackwell, and my uncle Rick all looked horrified.

  “There’s also no precedent for a Pride being unable to come up with a suitable candidate.”

  “I am a suitable candidate.” I spoke through clenched jaws to keep my teeth from Shifting.

  “You’re not even a suitable wife,” Dean spat from the left-hand wall. “With the way you’re sleeping with half your enforcers…”

  One glance from Malone silenced him, but the damage was done. Pierce and Mitchell were nodding, and even Blackwell was scowling. And it would do me no good to cry “foul.”

  I leaned forward with my palms flat on the table, to keep my hands from shaking. “Councilman Malone, you can’t just set some random tom in place as our Alpha. This isn’t your decision. People aren’t chess pieces for you to move around as it suits you!”

  “She’s right.” My uncle stood, tense muscles standing out beneath his shirtsleeves. “You can’t choose another Pride’s Alpha.”

  “And I won’t have to, if Faythe does what’s best for her Pride. If she steps down and chooses a suitable husband to protect them.” His emphasis on “suitable” left no doubt that, in his opinion, neither Jace nor Marc qualified. “But if she won’t consider her Pridemates’ best interest, then I stand fully prepared to do what’s best for them.”

  My heart pounded so hard and fast I was sure my chest would explode. “You cannot choose my husband.”

  “Of course not. Nor can I make you give your poor mother a grandchild, unfortunately. Even though your family line will die out if you refuse to bear the next generation. But I can and will make sure your Pride has the leader it deserves, whether or not you accept him as you should. Unless you’re willing to step down and do the right thing for someone else, for a change.”

  A growl rumbled from my throat, but my uncle’s hand landed on my arm, silently warning me to choke it off. “The only way anyone else will sit as Alpha of my territory is if he wins that privilege—that duty—in a formal challenge. One on one, unarmed, as tradition dictates.”

  Malone actually laughed, glancing at his allies to see if they shared the joke. And when his gaze met mine again, it held an unbearable, bitter mirth. “You have five days to bury your father. If you don’t have a new Alpha by the time he’s in the ground, I will choose one for you. You can either fight him, or take him to bed as your husband as tradition dictates,” he said, throwing my own words back at me as I boiled with rage that had no outlet.

  “Either way, the south-central Pride will have a new Alpha by Saturday night.”

  Nineteen

  “That mangy bastard!” I shoved my robe into the suitcase open on the bed and pushed handfuls of terry cloth into the corners, determined to make it fit. “He can’t do this. Right? Malone can’t just drop a new Alpha into our laps. Specifically, mine.”

  “Technically, no.” My uncle sighed and sank into the chair in the corner, the dark hollows under his eyes emphasized by the weak lighting and pervasive shadows. “But then, technically, that’s not what he’s doing. Officially what will happen—if I have my guess—is that on Saturday night, some strong young tom will show up and formally challenge you for leadership of the Pride. That hasn’t happened in living memory—at least, not that I recall—but it’s definitely the historical precedent.” Which I’d pointed out myself. “And the fact that Malone handpicked whoever challenges you won’t be part of the official record. It’ll never even be mentioned.”

  “So…officially, this’ll all be on the up-and-up?” How the hell did Malone always manage to disguise evil manipulations as perfectly legal maneuvers?

  Uncle Rick nodded reluctantly. “If a bit archaic and barbaric, yes.”

  “So all I can do is fight this asshole, right?” Or marry him, evidently, which wasn’t going to happen. “If I beat him to a bloody pulp in front of an audience of my peers, I get to be Alpha, right?” I pushed on the top of the suitcase, but couldn’t make the two halves meet, which only further pissed me off.

  “I’ll fight him.” Marc took the robe and folded it neatly, then laid it across the open suitcase and zipped the bag closed.

  “No. No way in hell.” At the dresser, I shoved my hair dryer and brush into a smaller bag, fighting to keep from crushing them; my fists wanted to clench around everything I touched. “I’m not going to start off my tenure as Alpha by letting someone else fight my battles. What’s that going to say to the other Alphas? To the entire rest of the werecat population?”

  “It’s going to say that you’re smart. Traditionally, you’re allowed to choose an enforcer to fight in your place.”

  “And you think you’re a better fighter than I am?” Marc started to answer, but I cut him off, already rolling my eyes at myself. “Okay, you’re totally better than I am, but that’s not the point. I have to do this. Everyone has to see me do this. If I can’t hold on to the Pride on my own in this first challenge, Malone will only send more challengers.”

  “No.” My uncle shook his head slowly. “If the first one loses against you—or against Marc—Malone won’t try that tactic again. He can’t afford for his man to look weak, either. Instead, he’ll take things up a level. Onto a broader scale.”

  “War?” Marc asked, and Uncle Rick nodded.

  “So, if that’s the bottom line, anyway, why don’t we just skip all the bullshit—” I figured cussing as an Alpha was different than cussing at an Alpha “—and deal out a full-scale slaughter from the get-go?”

  Marc frowned. “Because we’ll get our asses handed to us. Again.”

  “Not if we work the clock to our advantage.” I unzipped my toiletry bag and shoved in the shampoo and conditioner I’d only had a chance to use once. We’d landed in Montana less than thirty-six hours earlier, and since then, my entire world had crumbled. “We know when the fight’s coming, and this time there’s no reason we can’t call in the reserves.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Di Carlo asked, and I looked up to find him standing in the doorway. Behind him, toms moved through the living room, packing bags and loading vehicles. Most of them
would fly home, but my men and I would have to drive, with my father’s body wrapped and carefully positioned in the back of the rental van.

  I sat on the end of the bed, facing both Di Carlo and my uncle, and pulled Marc down to sit beside me. “Malone said we’d have five days to bury Dad and come up with a new Alpha. Today’s Monday. He’s planning to swoop in with his puppet Alpha on Saturday, so we just have to ramp up our own schedule and make sure he’s too late.”

  “A preemptive attack?” Di Carlo stepped into the room and leaned against the wall beside my uncle’s chair. “I see a lot of obvious risks, but we don’t have a lot of options.”

  “Or a lot of time,” Uncle Rick added.

  I nodded. “And that’s where the creative timeline comes in. We’ll spread the word that the funeral is on Friday, but we’ll actually hold a small, quiet service on Wednesday morning. Friday, we move in on Malone in his own territory. With any luck, we’ll catch him off guard, while he’s still getting his toy soldiers together.” I glanced from Di Carlo to my uncle, trying to read their expressions. “We take out Malone and his men, and without its head, the rest of the political beast should just flop around on the ground and die.”

  “I like it.” Marc wrapped one arm around my waist.

  Jace stepped into the room with two steaming mugs, grinning at me and pointedly ignoring Marc. “Especially the part with the flopping and dying.”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of the highlight.” I accepted the coffee he offered, then I turned to the other Alphas, and the gravity of what I was planning truly sank in. “We’re going to need every single tom we have. All of them.” I glanced from one to the other as I spoke. “I know this isn’t really your battle, so I understand if you want to bow out. But I need to know now… Are you with me on this?”

  Uncle Rick frowned. “This is my battle, Faythe. Almost as much as it is yours. Your father was more than a friend to me, and more than an in-law. He was practically a brother, but even if he wasn’t, I would never let my sister’s Pride be taken over by an Alpha with no connection to the land or the people.” He cleared his throat, and his eyes looked suddenly shiny. “I was born into the south-central Pride, remember? And even though I’ve been Alpha of my wife’s Pride for more than two decades, the south-central territory still feels like home. It always will—unless Malone handpicks some strange tom with questionable motives and obvious loyalties to the Appalachian Pride or its Alpha.”