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It wasn’t just Brand and Finnick and Glen who had shifted and surrounded her now. Another wolf, a smaller black one, also guarded her fallen form, and quite a few of the other fighters, including Patrick, looked close to shifting. The other shifters on the Council stepped forward to join Bradley and Margarette in the ring.
The Mountain Pack’s Alpha—Brand’s father, Samuel—rumbled a question. “You mean to say…” Every shifter around him quieted. Samuel almost never spoke. There had been a rumor he’d stayed in wolf form too long when his true mate had died, and he’d forgotten how. “You will let this child die, rather than seek justice?”
Alpha smiled, like he was delighted with the thought. “Yes. It’s my pack, my choice. No one can claim her.”
“I can,” an accented voice called, and the small black wolf—who’d just shifted back to human form faster than anyone I’d ever seen—stepped toward the Southern Alpha. He was stronger than I’d thought, lean and muscled like a professional fighter. “I am known as Joaquin Villalobos, an Alpha from the Borderlands, and I claim her as my true mate.” His voice rang with truth.
Two questions raced through my mind: True mate? and The Borderlands has a new Alpha? Shock rippled through the crowd, while a zip of fear ran through me. I knew the stranger wasn’t her true mate. But he definitely believed it.
There were a few shifters from the smaller packs at the Conclave, who had been invited to join us in hopes of finding true mate bonds. But an Alpha from the Central American Pack, who hadn’t gained permission from the Council to attend?
At best, it was a diplomatic misstep. Something wasn’t right, though I couldn’t hear the lie in what he’d said. I heard a few mutters about rogues and contested claims.
“You haven’t been recognized as Alpha, boy,” Callaway called around a toothy smile. “And only an Alpha or Alpha Heir’s mate claim supersedes her own Alpha’s edict… so, tough luck. Hell, she wouldn’t survive the mating, and you’d probably die with her. I’m doing you a favor; she’ll be dead very soon. You can try for another mate someday.”
The Alpha command was loosening, and I stepped toward him, blinded by anger. But Van Blackside clicked his tongue and sidled between us.
The stranger lunged forward as well, as if he would fly across the intervening space and tear out Alpha Callaway’s throat, but Patrick caught him and whispered something in his ear. The crowd began muttering, moving. Preparing for something? Perhaps a riot.
The other Heirs howled and threw themselves into their transformations faster than was safe. Brand shifted first and shouted, “The hell she’ll die. I claim her as my true mate.”
His tone thrummed with honesty, and I swallowed. How?
Not a second later, Glen joined in. “I claim her!” To my relief, he didn’t say she was his true mate… but his eyes blazed with rage and desire.
“What?” The Southern Alpha whistled loud and long. I could tell he was reveling in the attention and power, even though the others were shaming him. “All y’all are her true mates? Maybe nobody ever explained how true mates work.”
“We know how they work, Alpha,” Margarette purred, stalking toward him. “How they’re supposed to work. Give her to my pack. We’ll take her off your hands.”
Bradley let out a growl when my Alpha sneered openly at her and drawled, “Wish I could, dear lady. But she killed a dear friend of mine—and yours, if I remember correctly. Del Talbot. Tore his throat out right there in the yard behind the dining hall. It was brutal, bloody.”
We all heard the lie. A few shifters named it out loud, calling, “Liar!” and “She didn’t!”
“Tore out his throat? But she’s never shifted,” Margarette replied, her smile a weapon. “How could she do such a thing?”
The Alpha purpled with bluster and rage at getting caught in the lie. “She mighta used a knife.”
“A knife?” Finnick glided up to join Margarette. “You mean you can’t tell the difference between the marks left by a wolf’s teeth and a steel blade?”
The Southern wolves nearby shifted nervously.
Bradley wrapped an arm around Margarette. Not because he was supporting her, I realized. But because she looked like she was about to rip my Alpha’s throat out. “If you’re lying about a crime, Alpha Callaway, you’ll be the one facing a Council investigation.”
He laughed nervously. “What, Brad, you want her too?”
Bradley recoiled, and Margarette growled, her features shifting slightly. “Watch it.”
“If I’d known one of my pack members had a magic pussy, I’d have capitalized on that a long while back.” Callaway scratched his chin. “I’m so sorry, but now there are multiple competing mating claims. And I’m being accused of fabricating evidence, or some such. We’ll need to take this to a formal meeting. Let’s set that up for… tomorrow morning sound good?”
He let out a dark laugh as Margarette cursed him in French.
In the circle of fighters, Flor’s breathing slowed. Something began to tear inside my chest. As I clutched at my heart, I saw Finnick, Glen, Brand, and finally Joaquin, stumble and drop to their knees.
“She’s dying.” Margarette’s voice was shrill. “She needs to shift!”
The Southern Alpha grinned. “Too bad. I’m not doing it, and it won’t take if any of you try.” He turned to the crowd. “Everybody get on home. The show’s over.”
A small group of Southern Enforcers, Trevor’s friends, darted through the crowd, hauling him out of the ring and off to somewhere else. My wolf wanted to chase him down and finish the job Flor had started, but saving her life came first.
