Authors: Mary Hughes
“Even though they’re safe now?” Sophia said.
“It’s only been a few days,” Noah said. “They have to unlearn years of fear.”
Mason said, “Those assholes have been constantly grumbling since we packed Scauth up and carted him off. We should’ve seen this coming.”
Premonition ruffled Noah’s fur. “Bottom line it.”
Mason cut a glance at Sophia. “They’ve issued a full Alpha Challenge.”
“The fuck they have!”
“What’s that?” Sophia practically vibrated with her need to know, her need to help. She wasn’t going to wait quietly on the sidelines, apparently. No missish little mate, but one who could match him stride for stride… Bloody claws, he had not just thought that.
With a reassuring squeeze to Mason’s shoulder, Noah turned to her. “Nothing big. When the alpha isn’t taking responsibility and control of the pack, it’s a single twenty-four hours to prove he’s up to the challenge of leadership on all counts.”
“But usually it’s only issued after plenty of time for him to try,” Mason said. “The minimum before this was nine months, and that was only so short because Doghouse was obviously screwing the pooch…literally.”
“Ew.” Sophia grimaced. “So it’s like impeaching an elected official? There’s a vote?”
Noah shifted his eyes. “Kind of like.”
“Not really like,” Mason said. Noah would’ve stapled his second’s mouth shut but Sophia was watching. Mason yapped on. “It’s a full HUFF, starting with the hunt tonight.”
“Right,” Noah said. “That gives me a couple hours. Plenty of time to prepare. Now about Sophia’s car—”
“What’s a HUFF?” Sophia jumped in.
Persistent woman. Pride warred with consternation, but Noah’s practicality won out. She’d keep asking until she had answers. He’d give her enough to satisfy her curiosity. “A ceremonial Challenge Hunt.” He left it at that.
But naturally Mason was being Mr. Helpful. “It
starts
with the hunt. That’s what the HU stands for. At moonrise, which is slightly before one a.m. tonight, the pack is led in a hunt by the alpha and his mate.”
Stapling would not end at his lips, Noah decided. Balls would be involved.
“His mate?” Sophia’s pretty brow wrinkled as if the thought of Noah having a mate other than her was painful. He wanted to fold her in his arms and reassure her that only she was his, and he hers.
Mason must’ve wanted that stapler vasectomy because he was still talking. “The Hunt is followed by a Challenge Fight. That’s where a challenger fights the alpha for his mate.”
Noah shuddered. If anyone took Sophia from him…
“Is the pack there for that too?” Sophia asked.
“All important events take place in front of the full pack,” Mason said.
“So if the hunt is at moonrise and this all happens within twenty-four hours…” Sophia tapped a finger against her pearls. She obviously was considering the risks, formulating a plan. Damn, she was impressive. Maybe she’d even guessed the main problem. “When is the fight?”
She’d seen it. Noah gave in to the inevitable and told her. “When sunrise clears the tall meadow grass. Two hours after first daylight.”
When he was fifteen pounds of fur. Losing was almost inevitable. And the winner would take Noah’s witch.
Chapter Fifteen
His
witch.
Somewhere between Noah’s eyes taking on the mating color and now, his mind had lined up with his body and emotions.
He’d come to think of her as his mate, and no temporary about it.
Damn it.
“Daytime?” Sophia said. “That’s not good. All right, let’s hear the rest. If HU is hunt and F is fight, is there a second F?”
Fucking-helpful Mason opened his mouth to reply. Screw the stapler. Noah pivoted and kneed him in the gonads. He covered the action by pretending to stumble. “Oops.”
Mason lifted from the floor with a yelp. He skittered back, hand protectively covering his privates, and gave Noah a bewildered look. Then his eyes cleared and his sheepish expression let Noah know that the message was received—and that Mason wasn’t permanently injured.
Noah spun back to see Sophia staring at him suspiciously. “I’d prefer to concentrate on the first hurdle. The Hunt.”
“All right,” she said. “Problem. You’re not mated.”
“Sure he is,” still-fucking-helpful Mason said.
That did it. Next time Noah wouldn’t pull his kick. Testicles would meet tonsils.
But Mason’s words meant he already accepted Sophia as their alpha female.
Would that be so bad?
Noah gazed at her. She was bright, beautiful, spirited and determined. Perfect for him.
He crushed the wistful thought. She was a
witch.
Like his father. Never trust witches.
Although, just because he hated his father didn’t mean he had to hate all witches, did he? Of course not. Hating all witches based on his father abandoning his mother and him would just be psychotic.
It was okay, what he felt for Sophia. Okay that his fingers ached with the need to touch her, that his mouth throbbed with the need to kiss her. Definitely not hate. Was the opposite of hate. Was lov…
Not hate. Right. Done deal. Glad that was settled.
Of course, the rest of the pack might not be so easily persuaded to accept her, especially after they found out she was a witch. Most wolves could care less about the Witches’ Council as long as it didn’t impact their day-to-day lives, but this mating was a Council taboo and might carry an even bigger price tag. He was going to have to find out what the penalty was one of these days.
Mason continued, “But the mate has to hunt as a wolf.”
Okay, that might be a problem. Even if there was something in the magic shop to turn Sophia into a wolf, there was almost no chance they’d find it in that clutter before the Hunt. If only he didn’t have that deadline. Why did it have to be tonight?
It didn’t. He hit his forehead, hard, nearly flattening it. “By my sire’s bloody paws, why should I cave to this so-called representative group? If it’s the usual five, I’ll just go convince them they’ve made a mistake.”
“You mean talk them down?” Sophia said.
“Well…”
Mason snorted. “Wolves, talk?”
“So you’ll fight them?” Sophia folded her arms. It plumped her cleavage in that little white top most enticingly. “Five against one? You already got hurt fighting just two. Noah, please. Don’t.”
He raised his eyes to meet her gaze. “A very wise woman once said to me, ‘It’s not like you can stop me’.”
“Touché. All right, then can’t you even the odds somehow?”
“Listen to her, Noah.” Mason crossed his arms too, although Noah wasn’t tempted to look at his cleavage. “If they’d fight fair, it’d be okay. But without unbiased witnesses, I wouldn’t trust them not to gang up on you.”
“Who are the five?” Sophia asked.
“Killer.” Mason ticked up one finger, then a second. “Attila. Bonnie and Clyde.” Two more fingers, and then his thumb, pointed down. “And Ivan. You’ll have to take Ivan last, or you’ll be exhausted before you even start.”
“Not Marlowe?” Sophia said.
“The pup is trouble,” Noah said. “But he’s not old enough to be a real threat. Ivan is. He’ll definitely be last.”
“Noah, please don’t. Not if it’s really dangerous.”
“It’s either convince them or forfeit the hunt. I don’t have a choice.”
Sophia looked grim. “Take Mason with you, then.”
Noah shook his head. “I can’t look weak.”
“Pretend he isn’t there to fight. Say it’s to discuss pack business and you need him as a secretary, or something.”
Mason was nodding.
Noah looked between them. Both his mate and his second were wearing their determined faces. If he didn’t give in, he wouldn’t put it past either of them to go around him to “help”. Or worse, they might collaborate. Mason could take care of himself, but Sophia and those five…? He briefly closed his eyes and shuddered. “Fine. If it’ll get you both off my back, I’ll take Mason.”
Mason relaxed. “Good.”
Noah pointed a stern finger at his second. “But stay back. Only interfere if it’s an emergency. My status as dominant is already shaky.”
“No problem, except for Bonnie and Clyde. They’re almost never apart.”
“Bonnie?” Sophia said brightly. “I can take care of her.”
Noah whirled to face her. “You won’t go anywhere near that bitch.”
She dazzled him with a grin. “What bitch can resist shopping? I’m not going to fight, only distract. Don’t worry about me.”
Not worry about her? Not in this lifetime. He grabbed her arms. “You are not—”
“Noah, sweetheart. Goose-gander? You can’t stop me.”
His mouth remained hanging open. She’d called him
sweetheart
.
Sophia stared into Noah’s wonderful golden eyes. He thought she didn’t know. He was avoiding the whole issue of his eyes turning colors because he thought she didn’t know what it meant.
He was mated. To her.
Which, she reminded herself, was
forbidden
, not just yanked-before-the-Witches’-Council-and-castrated forbidden, but death.
Strangely, she worried more about the impact on poor Noah’s sex life. One-and-only mated wasn’t bad for her; Blues were monogamous women. But Noah? Shifter mating was the ultimate of monogamous relationships. Exclusive and forever, meaning if Noah never had a child by her, he’d never have a child.
Mated
. 4-evah.
She’d always thought shifters got the raw end of the sex deal. The idea of fate—or magic or the great Wolf in the Sky—picking your partner seemed weird enough. But then being stuck with that mate your whole life long? Arbitrary and capricious and definitely not fair.
But now that she was experiencing it, it didn’t feel arbitrary or capricious. It felt inevitable and right.
Should have scared her. She wasn’t scared at all.
HEART beats for a wolf and a Blue…
and Avignon’s predictions always came true. She shook the thought away.
Noah didn’t seem too scared either. Maybe he suspected, as she did, that the whole thing was counterfeit. A consequence of the altered hex that would fall apart with the unhexing.
Although in the meantime, if she was the Blue of the prophecy, he was the wolf. Which meant if the Hungry Ghost was after her, he’d be after Noah.
Beware the Hungry Ghost
. Big reason to break the hex ASAP and free him from the mating.
On the other hand, breaking the hex would leave Noah mateless for the Hunt. Unless he could find another mate in a scant two hours…
Something deep inside her snarled at that. Noah wasn’t finding any mate but
her
.
Heat washed over her. Did she have an inner wolf somewhere? She probed the snarl like a sore tooth, gingerly, hoping it was her imagination.
The wolf snarled again. She didn’t like getting poked.
Sophia’s nape hairs raised. Clang her cauldron—she had an inner wolf. How the hell had that happened?
The hex? Or the sex? There certainly had been enough magic swirling around them…or maybe Noah’s wolf rubbed off on her when they’d been rubbing bodies…stars.
Her wolf snarled again.
Protect our mate. Beware the Ghost. Find the Heart.
Well. Whether inner wolf or subconscious venting, it spoke truth. First things first—help Noah survive the Challenge. Time to go shopping.
“Sophia.” Noah’s deep voice broke into her thoughts. She realized he was staring closely at her, almost deep enough to read her mind. Sure enough, he said, “You are not going to Bonnie and Clyde’s.”
He couldn’t stop her, but that stern look on his beautiful face meant he certainly was going to try.
“Would I do that?” She put a finger to Noah’s lips to forestall any arguments. Apparently her flesh had been sensitized by their time in front of the mirror. Skin-on-skin contact poured barrels of lust through her veins. Him too, if his pained O-face was any indication.
Her whole body clenched with want, so intense she shuddered. But the shock also made his grip on her relax.
She popped from his hands and spun for the exit. He started after her with his ground-eating stride. “Don’t worry,” she flung over her shoulder. “I’m just going to my aunt’s bookstore.”
“Why?”
“Auntie has a barrel of basic calm charms. Overstock. Might help with a rampaging shifter or two. Say, if you want to get your convincing done before one a.m., hadn’t you and Mason better get started?”
He slowed at that, albeit reluctantly. “You’re not going to Bonnie’s?”
“How can I? I don’t know where she lives.” She scooted outside. She hadn’t lied. She had no idea where Bonnie and Clyde lived…but the Misses Jamies would.
The bad thing about eternal busybodies was, they were always poking their noses into their neighbors’ business.
The good thing was, that meant they were always home.
Gladys Louise met Sophia at the door wearing a frilly red apron that matched her apple cheeks. “Come in, come in! Aren’t your eyes bright and your hair nicely mussed.”
Sophia’s mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry?”
“Very stylish, that right-out-of-bed look.” The twinkle in her eye made Sophia wince.
“Hello, Sophia.” Behind her, Almira waved Sophia in. “We’ve been expecting you.”
That froze her, open-mouthed again. She managed, “You were?”
“Noah has trouble. You’d want to help, but you’d need more information first. Oh, shut your mouth. You look like a fish.” Almira waved Sophia onto the couch. “Albeit a nicely mussed one.”
Cheeks broiling, Sophia shut her mouth and let herself be directed. Miss Almira Jamies could have made a mint as an air traffic controller. A sweating pitcher of iced tea waited on the coffee table.
Almira poured her a generous glass. “A man left something for you. Your aunt’s vibrator.” She handed Sophia the psychedelic rod.
“It’s not a vibrator.” Sophia took it. “It’s a skyscraper mushroom.”
“It doesn’t vibrate?” Gladys Louise piped.
“Well it does, but…” Face flaming, Sophia sipped iced tea, sucking an ice cube into her mouth.
“It’s nice, of course,” Almira said. “Though mine is bigger.”
Sophia choked on her ice cube.
Gladys Louise piped, “The double-ended ones are better.”
Sophia swallowed the ice cube whole. She coughed while Almira helpfully pounded her on the back. “Gladys Louise uses it for sore muscles. What did you think?”
When the coughing subsided Sophia said, “I need the address for Bonnie and Clyde. I can’t go into details—”
“The Alpha Challenge?” Almira said.
So much for secrets. “Yes. Noah’s going to get the anti-alphas to drop it. I need to distract Bonnie so he can talk to Clyde alone.”
Gladys Louise nodded encouragingly. “And how had you thought to do that, dear?”
“Well…take her shopping?”
Almira snorted. “The only kind of shopping Bonnie does is the lifting kind.”
“As in shop-lifting,” Gladys Louise piped helpfully.
“Isn’t that taking the Bonnie and Clyde names to the extreme?”
“They picked their own adult names,” Almira said.
“Shopping’s a nice idea dear,” Gladys Louise said. “Except for the fact that Bonnie doesn’t go shopping, of course.” She cocked her head, her eyes bright beads like a little bird. “Maybe you should add an item or two from your aunt’s stock of magical persuaders. Just in case.”
“You might get Bonnie to a bar.” Almira nibbled a cookie. With her long front teeth, she looked like a tall mouse. “She likes to drink.”
“Good idea,” Gladys Louise said. “She even has her own mug at the corner tap.”
“Which one?” Sophia asked. There were at least five corner bars in a six-block radius.
“The one next to her house, of course.” Gladys Louise gave her the address.
“Thanks.” Sophia took her aunt’s mushroom and left.
She trotted down the sisters’ hedge-lined front walk, intent on getting to the Uncommon Night Owl Bookstore to pick up a magical means of helping convince Bonnie to leave, in case straight begging didn’t work.
A rustle brought her head up. Behind her. She turned.
The sidewalk was empty—except for a couple leaves fluttering on the hedges.
Neck prickling, she turned slowly back and resumed her walk, her ears open. Would’ve been easier with a wolf’s preternatural hearing.
But even her human ears heard the click of toenails behind her.
She whirled to see a dog-like rump disappearing into the hedge. Not King—bigger. Black, with a suspiciously bushy tail.
Frowning, she turned again. Worked up a whistle and nonchalant saunter onto the main sidewalk. She traipsed along in seeming oblivion for half a block.
She spun on her toe.
The animal trotting behind her froze, standing directly under a street lamp.
It was a wolf.
O-kaaay. The question was, shifter or natural? Cause if it was a wolf wolf, she was in serious trouble.
Come to think of it, if it was a shifter other than Noah or Mason, she was probably in trouble too. Well, unless it was Moon Moon, the Mr. Bean of werewolves.
Human or animal? She tried to see its eyes without staring. Creatures Studies taught her a Canidae took a direct stare as a challenge.
The wolf’s eyes looked like—eyes. Well, hocus her pocus. Who made up the idea that only shifter wolves had human eyes? What a load of crap. Round iris, round pupil, the only difference between human and wolf eyes was that the opening revealed much less white.