Page 8 of Feral

“Of course, it is. Garlic bread, too. I know what you like, Alpha Wolf.” The short, thick-waisted woman beamed up at me as she bustled past to set the dish in the kitchen in the back.

Tom thumped me on the shoulder as we clasped hands. They lived nearby in the mountains and were respected elders of the pack. Besides taking care of us, they’d helped us keep the ranch going on our own and offered gentle encouragement as I stepped into my role at far too young an age.

Karen Clifton, one of the unmated females in the pack, arrived next, wearing short-shorts and a tank top. She’d been shoving her tits under my nose for as long as I could remember. I thought she’d have given it up at some point since I’d never indicated a hint of interest, but as long as I remained unmated, I was fair game in her book, especially since she hadn’t been able to land one of my brothers before they found their mates. She waved a pie under my nose. “Peach. Your favorite.”

It wasn’t my favorite, and I wasn’t nice enough to even pretend. Now that I’d scented Natalie, Karen was even more repugnant. Her own smell, oddly of almonds mixed with the sickly sweet aroma of sugared peaches, was cloying. My wolf practically snarled at her boldness. I hadn’t forgotten how she’d tried to drive Boyd and Audrey apart, either.

I ignored her and reached to shake hands with her father and her younger brother, James, the teen Jett Markle had shot in wolf form earlier this summer. To cover up the incident with the human, Boyd had told Markle he’d shot our dog not a wolf, and Boyd had blackened Markle’s eye for it. It wasn’t the last run-in we had with the annoying neighbor since then, and I expected more. Once an asshole, always an asshole.

And shit, he was pushing for the Shefield property, which meant he’d be paying a visit on Natalie, too. I tensed, not wanting the fucker anywhere near my woman. What if he’d shown up when Clint and I had?

Boyd set his hand on my shoulder for a second. I nodded. He’d sensed my tension but couldn’t ask if I was okay. Everyone here had incredible hearing.

An unfamiliar black pickup parked, and I growled.

“Easy, Alpha,” Nathan Brown said, approaching. The elder, who’d been loitering on the wraparound porch, dropped an unwelcome hand on my shoulder. Unlike Boyd’s reassuring gesture, this was placating. Patronizing.

He was a few inches shorter, with thinning hair that was turning from brown to gray. He had the paunch of a wolf who didn’t run with the pack. “Those are my kin from the Madison Range pack. They were visiting, so I invited them to our meeting. We don’t have anything to hide, do we?”

Another low growl rumbled in my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clint stiffen, but remain in place.

Yeah, I had nothing to fucking hide.

Bringing extended family to pack meetings was done on occasion, so technically Nathan hadn’t done anything wrong, but usually it was with advanced notice out of respect. He hadn’t done it this time. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t like him.

He was the type who would stab me in the back if he thought he could become alpha. A weasley, slippery type. He’d always been a thorn in this pack’s side. The kind who always caused dissension and trouble. I couldn’t kick him out for being disagreeable, but with Boyd and Colton back, there was no chance in hell he’d ever become alpha. With Audrey pregnant, the line would continue… if the pup could shift.

“A heads up would’ve been appreciated,” I grumbled.

Some of these guys had been testing me since I was sixteen. Every fucking day. Maybe that’s true of any alpha. I wouldn’t know. I’d been barely old enough to even take part in pack meetings before my dad died, and back then, I hadn’t paid much attention. I’d gone from fucking around with my friends in the back row to standing before everyone.

I kept my eye on Brown’s kin as they approached. They hadredneckwritten all over them, complete with mullets, heavy metal t-shirts and thick necks. Not that half my pack—especially the ones who lived up in these mountains and rarely interacted with humans—weren’t also a little hillbilly. Only good thing about pack politics and having to deal with ignorance and closed-mindedness was that it wasn’t a fucking democracy.

I was alpha, and I’d grown into the role. No one fucked with my pack, even from the inside. Everyone felt my alpha power when I pulled it out. They instinctually responded to my commands.

There were four of them—one shifter in his forties, two in their early thirties and a younger wolf—barely an adult. They had a casual way about them, but I sensed they were on their best behavior.

“Sal Brown,” the oldest says to me, extending his hand. I supposed he looked familiar from pack exchanges and mating games we’d had in the past. He wasn’t their pack’s alpha, but a brother or something.

“Alpha Wolf,” I answer coolly, shaking his hand. My name was irrelevant. My title said it all.

“Yeah, I guessed that much.” He gives a mirthless chuckle. “Oh right, yournameis Wolf.” The joke sounded rehearsed, one I’d heard about a million times.

In fact, my grandfather used to say, “I’m Alpha Wolf because I’m alpha wolf.”

I’d often thought my family was foolish to keep the name Wolf when we, as a species, were trying to blend into human society, but it was a source of pride. We were related to the oldest Wolf families across the globe, and the name was always synonymous with alpha. It wasn’t changing now either.

I stared him down, waiting for some explanation about why the fuck he and his crew were at my pack meeting. When it was clear by his hesitation he didn’t want to give me one, I released his gaze and let him step inside. His other three family members also introduced themselves and skulked in.

I’d find out the truth, but sometimes the direct approach wasn’t the way to go.

“Hi, Alpha. Hey, Boyd.” Shelby, one of the few single females came up the steps and smiled. Boyd had taken position at my shoulder when the Brown clan arrived. I’d seek his counsel later on what he thought of them and why they were here.

We didn’t shake Shelby’s hand because both were full with a giant glass carafe filled with her famous watermelon lemonade. She was in her late twenties and the full package—pretty, smart, friendly. I never had any interest, though, and fortunately, she hadn’t seemed to want me, either. In fact, she’d made it plain she believed in fate and hoped to find her true mate someday, much to the irritation of both her parents, who’d been trying to throw us together from the moment she turned eighteen.

My wolf hadn’t shown any interest in her or anyone else. I sighed. Until earlier. Until Natalie Shefield.The human.

“Shelby,” I said, tipping my hat.