Challenged (17 page)

me.” Stone shoved Gabe out of the way, wishing more than anything he could do just

that.

The second he’d mentioned it though, the only bitch who came to mind was Ali.

“You’re going to the Bastien den, aren’t you?” Gabe didn’t even give his comment

the time of day.

“Why should I go there?” He lunged out of the cabin, heading for the truck.

Gabe was on his heels. “Because you need to make sure your job is secure. And

because you can’t think about any bitch other than Ali.”

Stone turned on him, raising his fist to strike. “How the hell do you know what I’m

thinking?”

Gabe grabbed his fist, the two of them locked in midair while adrenaline pumped

through both of them and their faces hardened. They glared at each other, their faces

close enough that they could feel each other’s breath.

“Because, twin brother,” Gabe said through gritted teeth. “I’m in love also. And I’d

kill for Pamela without giving it a thought.”

Stone yanked his fist out of Gabe’s grasp and pulled open the truck door. “I’m not

in love, damn it.”

“Like hell you aren’t,” Gabe muttered and then turned and walked into the cabin.

An hour later, Stone had to accept the fact that beer wasn’t going to affect him

tonight. He sat at the tavern, hunched over at the counter, his mood darkening with

every gulp of the cold brew.

“Stone McAllister.” A werewolf stood next to him.

Stone didn’t like the way he said his name. Looking up, he straightened when the

werewolf he’d seen pawing Ali at her den put his hands on his hips and glared at him.

“What do you want?” Stone stood slowly, sizing the werewolf up quickly.

He could take him out with one blow.

“I want you to stay the hell away from Ali Bastien.” Mickey Reginald had tension

swarming all around him.

This asshole was the last thing he wanted sniffing around him right now. Stone

grunted, not even wishing to acknowledge the werewolf.

“Another beer,” he barked at the bitch behind the counter.

He saw the uneasiness in her gaze as she glanced from him to Mickey. What the

fuck ever! He was damned tired of werewolves trying to tell him what to do.

Mickey grabbed his arm, forcing him around on his stool. Stone came off the stool

too fast for Mickey to react. The werewolf stumbled backwards, stopping before he

toppled onto a nearby table.

“You don’t want to touch me like that,” Stone sneered.

“And you won’t touch Ali again. Is that clear?” Mickey came back at him, proving

he was a bit stronger than Stone had originally guessed.

“The only thing clear here is that you’re about to get your tail whooped in a public

place.” Every muscle inside Stone hardened.

“Just because you can take out some lame-ass excuse for a werewolf up in the

mountains doesn’t mean you’d stand a chance against me.” Mickey wasn’t just a jerk.

He was stupid too.

The older werewolf who cooked back in the kitchen moved around the counter

faster than Stone thought possible. Although a good paw’s length shorter than both of

them, the older werewolf jumped in between them, not a bit of fear on him.

“I won’t have any fighting in my place,” he sneered at both of them.

“It’s okay, Cook,” Mickey said, smiling so that he showed off his buckteeth.

The werewolf was one ugly motherfucker. He’d be doing Ali a favor by sending

this guy running with his tail between his legs.

“I’ve said what needed saying.” His smile looked more like a sneer when he met

Stone’s gaze.

The room had grown quiet. Stone didn’t smell any humans in the place, and he

knew every pack member watched and waited to see what would happen next.

“Sounds to me like you need to talk to Ali, and not me.” Stone turned away from

the werewolves and sat on his stool.

The bitch behind the counter had brought him another beer. He held it up to her in

a silent salute and then downed a good portion of the cold brew. Every muscle inside

him had hardened while the acute pain of the change surged through his blood. Too

much anger, too much frustration rushed through him.

“I saw you groping her at her den. Ali is barely a bitch. She don’t need some no-

good werewolf like you messing with her head.” Mickey still stood behind Cook, who

hadn’t moved from his stance between them.

Stone looked the two werewolves over when he turned around, beer still in hand.

He put the glass down when muscles cramped inside him. He’d crush the glass if he

kept holding it.

“Ali is no longer any of your concern.” He’d had about all he could take.

“I’ll see to it that she’s my concern. I’m in good with her den. You’re not even a

member of this pack.” Mickey turned toward the door but then spun around, pointing a

finger at Stone. “If you go near her again, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Might as well do it now,” Stone muttered, already bored with this werewolf’s idle

threats.

Anger flared around Mickey. He looked like he might blow a gasket the way his

face turned red.

“I have enough respect for our pack’s tavern, which is more than I can say for you.

But if you want to fight for her, that’s fine with me.”

Stone stared at the werewolf for a moment. Mickey Reginald had just challenged

him for Ali.

Damn it to fucking hell.

There had been more than one time in the past when he’d been challenged over

some bitch he’d been fucking. Every time he’d laughed it off, wished the werewolf

much happiness, and moved on to the next willing bitch.

Something inside him wouldn’t let him do that now. Ali wouldn’t be happy with

this werewolf. He was making a public spectacle of himself. Stone had seen him out

working with the other werewolves, he didn’t have the intelligence to do much more

than play gofer. The werewolf would get lost on a run if he didn’t follow the rest of the

pack. And that might be asking too much of him.

Standing slowly, he took a slow breath. His head needed to be clear with this.

Accepting the challenge would have irreversible ramifications. Not that any of them

scared him. He could take this werewolf out easily enough. Stone didn’t fear losing his

life.

It was losing his freedom that had him hesitating.

“Name the place and time,” he said slowly.

The instant chatter that started in the tavern rushed through his brain like a disease.

He’d just accepted fighting for the right to mate with Ali.

Chapter Nine

Ali wished the slow throbbing in her head would go away. She paced the length of

the living room, and then stopped to face her mother.

“I want him, Mom.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Her mother smiled at her, as if she understood.

Her youngest littermate Joseph darted through the living room toward the kitchen

with several other cubs in tow. Ali turned toward her sire, who sat in his chair watching

the news.

“I’m not one of the cubs anymore, Dad.” Arguing with her sire wouldn’t get her

anywhere. But damn it, this mattered more than anything. “You embarrassed me when

you ordered me home like I wasn’t an adult.”

Her sire shifted in his chair. He heard her. It didn’t surprise her a bit that he

remained quiet. He was so damned bullheaded. There were days when she wondered

what her mother had ever seen in him.

“Don’t you see, Mom?” She tried another approach, appealing to her mother. “I’m

twenty-two years old. You know the werewolves have been sniffing around our den for

years. If one of them had appealed to me, I would have run with them.”

“Like hell you would,” her sire growled, not taking his eyes off the TV.

“Stone is different.” She continued talking to her mother. “He’s dedicated to his

den. Look how he traveled all the way out here just to help his twin.”

She wouldn’t mention how dedicated he was to his twin. Without prompting,

Stone’s final words before they’d been interrupted popped into her mind.

Then what will you do when I strip you down and give you to Gabe?

She shoved the thought from her mind, fighting off a shiver of desire that rushed

through her.

“And remember how he returned to the pack, bringing you all of those supplies

and saving you all that money?” She turned on her sire. “And in less than a day he had

work here.”

“He doesn’t even have his own den.” Her sire jumped out of his chair, yelling as he

pointed at her. “He’s wild—out of control. Damn it. He killed a werewolf today. He’s

drifting through this pack.”

“Sounds like someone else twenty years ago,” her mother said, and then covered

her mouth to hide a smile.

“Whose side are you on?” her sire howled. “You didn’t see him today. Stone

McAllister went after that werewolf the second we saw him in the clearing.”

“Because he was beating his mate,” Ali added. “If he were any other Cariboo you’d

be boasting his morals and fighting skills.”

“And the only reason he’s working is because I gave him a job.” Her sire put his

hands on his hips.

“And that was very kind of you.” Her mother walked up to her sire, putting her

hand on his chest. “We all know you can see when a Cariboo is a hard worker. Does

Stone work hard?”

Ali’s heart skipped a beat when her sire looked down at her mother, his gaze

softening briefly. That was the look he gave her when her mother was winning an

argument. Ali sucked in a breath, saying prayer upon prayer that he would agree for

her to see Stone.

“He’s not good for Ali.” Her sire focused completely on his mate now, as if Ali no

longer were in the room. “Don’t you agree? The second things get a bit much for him,

he’ll be tearing out of here in his fur.”

“I don’t know if I agree or not, Jonathan. I would have to know him better,” her

mother said quietly.

The phone rang and every one of Ali’s littermates raced from different corners of