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Brand let out a deep growl. “I guess you’re not thrilled about her smell? Or is it the murdering thing? She’d fit right in with your pack.”
I held up a hand before the fight could start. “Tell me something, Brand. When the Southern Alpha announced this girl’s crime, did you get the feeling there was something… odd about the whole thing?”
“This whole pack is odd. Too much inbreeding.” Brand scratched his beard. “But sure, it was short on details. Long on how amazing the guy, Del, was. You know, I met him, a long time ago. At a Conclave.”
“He was a big guy, Del,” Finn said softly. “A great fighter, an Enforcer for the Alpha before Callaway.”
I let out a low whistle. Callaway had been the Alpha for two decades, taking over for his uncle after he died in a fight with a pack of rogue wolves.
Finn went on. “I remember watching him at one Conclave when I was a little kid, before his accident. He was trying to teach my pack about street fighting, how important it was to use any advantage, even if it meant going low.”
A memory surfaced from my own childhood. “Wait, my dad told stories about him, too. He said back in the day, Del was the best Enforcer Southern ever had.”
Brand hesitated, something crossing his face. “He hasn’t been an Enforcer for a long time. That’s why he wasn’t at the last four Conclaves. He lost a leg. Lost his rank along with it, Dad said.”
“They stripped his rank?” Finn was shocked. “What the hell—they thought a fucking legend like him couldn’t fight on three legs?”
I thought for a second, then added, “I didn’t see a single member of Southern with any defect today. Not in the ranked wolves anyway.”
“There were some skinny kids with injuries, though,” Brand growled. “Skinny adults, too. Kept way back.”
“Unranked, like this girl Wills?” I wondered aloud, while Brand muttered about the fucking ear tags all Southern’s unranked shifters, male or female, had to wear. “I’m not sure it matters. If she killed Del, she has to be brought to justice.”
“So, you really think a girl that size—a nineteen-year-old who obviously hasn’t eaten a decent meal in a long time—would be able to kill one of the best Enforcers who ever lived?” Finn’s voice was as quiet as ever, but filled with rage. “She even mentioned her instructor to me—had to be Del. She didn’t flinch. Does she even know he’s dead?”
I wondered how long she’d been living out here. I thought probably only a few days, but who knew? Finn’s eyes met mine, and I let out a slow breath. “She was set up.”
He nodded. “I think so. I’ve heard rumors of how Callaway gets away with things. Del didn’t lose that leg in battle, you know. It was an accident of some kind. Logs rolling off a truck. He was passed out drunk on the ground.”
“Drunk?” I shook my head in disbelief. “A wolf his size and age would have to chug five gallons of Everclear to get passed-out drunk.”
Brand let out a string of curses. “Fucking Calvin Callaway, useless lump of Alpha shit. Can we go ahead and kill his ass?”
“Not yet,” Finn said. “You know what our parents have said. Luke isn’t ready to take the reins. Give him time.”
“Luke is too naïve and weak to ever beat Calvin in combat,” I reminded him. “And if Luke knew about this set up…”
“She’s planning to show up at the Conclave.” Finn spat out the words like they were poison.
“To the mate match?” I couldn’t help smiling. “Why don’t you go tell her she doesn’t need to bother?”
“No, to the Games. She’s planning to fight. She fucking told you that.”
“Shit, I thought that was just talk. It had to be, right?” The idea of a young girl fighting male shifters in the ring sickened me. And that girl in particular. She could be killed. For some reason, the thought that I could lose her before getting to know her gutted me.
What the hell was going on with me? She was Finn’s mate, possibly. I had no reason—no right—to feel possessive.
“I’ll go back,” I suggested. “I’ll let her know about Del. Let her know she needs to bail on the Games, and we’ll figure out some way to get her back to your pack.”
Finn’s teeth were going to crack if he clenched them any harder. “She’s almost the same age as my sister. And she’s… Southern.”
For some reason, I imagined grinding his face into the dirt. And when I peeked at Brand, he looked similarly inclined.
“If she’s your mate,” Brand said, his voice too quiet, “you’ll protect her. You can have one of our fathers call an emergency Council meeting, and beg for amnesty. True mate bonds trump everything.”
Finn let out a breath that was half howl, half sigh. “What do you think will happen to her at my pack? You both saw how small she is, how weak. I can’t bring a dirty hillbilly runaway to Eastern.”
Brand took a step forward, like he was going to punch Finn in the jaw. I’d never seen him so unhinged. “You don’t talk about your mate that way, asshole.”
