Claiming Shayla

Chapter Eight

Rory gritted his teeth and forced back his wolf. It snarled and fought, but Rory’s will was stronger and at this moment, what he wanted more than anything was to make love with his mate like she’d requested. Rory, the man, not Rory, the wolf. He beat it down, pushed it back, and shut it down, but the effort cost him.

“What happened?”

“What?” he bit out, still dealing with the pain his wolf had inflicted.

Shay touched his chest with a finger. “Your fur’s receded.” She stroked his arm down to his hand and raised it to eye level. “Claws retracted.” She lifted her head and gazed at him, her face flushed and eyes lazy with satiation, brows furrowed in puzzlement. “No fangs. What gives?”

“No wolf this time. Just me.”

Shay continued to stare. In displeasure?

“Is that a problem?” he asked uncertainly. Shay accepted, even encouraged his beast, but would she welcome the man?

Her expression changed to something Rory wasn’t sure he liked. Something that left him feeling like a specimen under a microscope. “Why are you speaking of yourself like you’re two different entities? Furry or not, it’s all you, isn’t it?”

Rory let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “In a manner of speaking, aye.” Shay accepted him, all of him. The realization had his waning arousal surging through him with a vengeance.

“What’s that supposed to mean? The wolf’s in you, but it’s still a part of you, right?” She frowned. “Or is it completely separate? This whole shifter thing is so confusing. Is my inner wolf me, or a totally separate entity? And when I shift, does she merge with me or—”

Rory deftly flipped them over so that he was on top and rose to his knees. “Later. Right now I’ve something else in mind.”

A slow, cheeky grin crossed her face. “Is that right? And would that something have anything to do with this?” Shay reached out and grabbed his cock in her small hand, giving it a slow pump.

Rory hissed and felt his wolf jerk on its leash. “Aye. None of that,” he ordered, catching her by the wrist before she could weaken his control. “Lie back. It’s my turn now.”

“Like this?” Shay reclined on the mattress, arms over her head, thighs spread wide, opening her sex fully to his gaze.

He looked her over from head to hips. His, every last, luscious inch of her. The gift he’d never dared ask for, never dared dream he could have. A mate. And not just any mate—a true mate. A gift from the Creator, crafted especially for him. A woman who loved him in spite of his flaws, and if that weren’t enough, a babe—the fruit of their love.

Once again doubts arose.

“I’m a hard man, Shayla,” he said grimly as though confessing a great sin.

“I’ll say.” Shay gazed at his erection, an amorous glint in her eye. “And getting harder by the moment.”

“I’ll mess up,” he continued. “I’m not a man of soft touches, flowery speeches, and all that romantic crap women want and need. Any tenderness was beat out of me long ago.”

Shay looked him dead in the eyes. “Bull.”

He shook his head, determined not to let her make light of what he was saying. “It’s the truth. I won’t want to, but I’ll hurt you if you expect more.”

She looked at him, gauging his mood, then scrambled to her knees. Instead of confronting him as he expected, she placed her arms around his neck and put her face inches from his. “I am not your mother, and you’re damned sure not your father. So get that into your head, first. I know you, Rory McFelan. You’re a pain in my ass half the time. You don’t take shit off anyone, including me. But then, neither do I, so we’re well matched there. If you act like an asshole, I’ll tell you. If I want or need something I’m not getting, you can bet your sweet, luscious ass I’ll demand it. I won’t whine, mope, or sulk in some corner like a child. And if I do go quiet on you, baby, watch out.”

It made him smile. He must be demented to find pleasure in his woman threatening him.

“Rory,” she continued in her serious, un-Shay-like manner. “I see you. Yes, I give you hell, but I do it because I know you. I’ve watched how you are with Shannon. Paid attention to the way you’ve been with me since I’ve been back. Hell, even before I left. You’re tender with those you care about. Protective, loving, in your crazy-assed ‘I’m the alpha’ way. It’s enough. More than enough. Any more and I’d need drugs, or a really big bat, to deal with you.”

Deeply moved, he reached for Shay, only to find himself shoved down onto the mattress. Shay slapped both hands on his chest and got into his face again. “Now enough with the mushy. Commence with the fucking!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the shit-eating grin she gave him. “Your wish is my command.”

Shay pursed her lips. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Hell no!” he stated as he deftly rolled them so that she lay under him.

Rory made love—he savored the word—to his mate. He couldn’t keep his wolf totally out of it. Strong emotions brought out the beast, and what he felt for Shay was extreme. Still, her sighs, moans, gasps—and at the end, screams—made his restraint worth the effort. The claw marks on his back along with the teeth marks on his shoulders satisfied his beast.

Later they lay entangled on the bed. Shay blanketed his body, her head pillowed on his chest. Rory leisurely stroked her spine, wallowing in the aroma of their lovemaking.

“Tell me about the pack.”

“Hmm…?” he murmured, still floating in the peaceful aftermath.

“The Sparrowhawks. Tell me about them.”

Rory sighed. The pack was the last thing on his mind right now. Just the thought of them was enough to give him a headache, but she’d a right to know what she was getting into.

“The Sparrowhawks are jacked up beyond all measure. For the most part their mentality is straight out of the Dark Ages. More wolves than men. The strong rule. The weak are held in contempt. Women are for fucking and breeding.”

Shay propped up on an elbow and looked at him. “Sounds like redneck bigotry shit. The kind that’s passed from father to son. How’d you escape?”

Annoyed, he stiffened and glared at her. “I’ve eyes and ears, haven’t I? A mind to reason? Some glimmer of intelligence?”

When she only grinned, he calmed enough to acknowledge, “Take away the beer guzzling and rebel flag and you’ve the right of it.”

Still grinning, she wagged her eyebrows. “Without those elements you’re just a bunch of hillbillies with fangs.”

He laughed, as she’d obviously intended, then sobered. “My father, he liked the fear, the intimidation. Being the biggest, the baddest. Justice—his justice—was swift and merciless and, in the past, maybe necessary. But times change and he didn’t. We’re no longer as insulated as we once were. Exposure is more of a concern. Our safety depends on our ability to blend with society. To be more human than wolf.

“Also, our species as a whole is dying. We don’t need to speed the process fighting among ourselves,” he finished wryly.

“So you’re trying to modernize the pack.”

“And having a bloody hard time of it,” he stated with disgust. “I can’t really blame them. Most of them have never been outside of these mountains. One good thing Da did was insist I go roaming. He told the council it was so I could find a mate since none of the women in the pack interested me enough. The real reason was that even then my wolf was rebelling against being under his rule. He was afraid I’d challenge him and win, and he wasn’t ready to give up his position as alpha.”

“Where’d you go?” Her eyes lit up, and Rory remembered all the traveling she did.

“My grandfather talked so much about Ireland, I had to see it for myself. I spent my last year of college studying abroad in Ireland. Then after graduation I spent another six months backpacking, absorbing the language and culture while working my way across the country before being summoned home.” Rory paused as his mind went back to that time. “For the first time in my life I was free—from the pack, Da, and the expectations of me being the next alpha. I still worried about what was happening at home in my absence, but I could breathe. I ran across other packs. Saw how they operated. Realized how outdated we were.”

He sighed. “Once I became alpha, I tried to put into practice all I’d learned. I’m still trying, without much success.”

Shay nodded and patted his chest in sympathy. “I’ll bet. People don’t like change. In fact, they fight against it. ‘If it ain’t broke, why fix it?’”

“Because it is broke. More, it’s wrong. Treating omegas like slaves, or worse, as though they’re less than human? Survival of the strongest, the fittest, and the most cunning, and screw the rest? Treating women like chattel and whores instead of valuing them as the precious beings they are?” He couldn’t disguise the disgust he felt with his pack and the old ways most, if not all, were clinging to with all their strength. It was a far cry from the shifter values and tenets Conor had mentioned during the reception. His pack really were the throwbacks many accused them of being.

“And yet you’re more than human. You’re shifters,” Shay reasoned. “You can’t totally disregard the wolf and its animalistic nature.”

“Being shifters doesn’t mean we have to live or function like animals.”

“Rory, underneath these civilized veneers humans wear, all men are animals. Shifters simply have an added dimension.”

He eased Shay to the side and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “What are you saying, Shay? Since we’re nothing but animals, we might as well act like ones?”

“No!” She placed her hand on his shoulder blade. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I don’t like you being so…disheartened, I guess, that they’re not evolving as fast as you’d like. You’re doing a good thing. The Sparrowhawks have been operating the old way for how long?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Generations. Long before my great-grandfather left Ireland for these fair shores, bringing his pack with him.”

“So we’re talking your father, and his father and his father before him. Several lifetimes. You thought to break that, change that in how short a period?”

Rory turned, leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss on her mouth. “Thank you.”

She ran her tongue around her lips before pressing gently on his chest. Once he reclined again, Shay snuggled close, facing him. “So you’re alpha, and I’m your mate. That makes me…?”

“Mine.”

She punched him in the stomach. “No. In the eyes of the pack?”

“Still mine,” he said with a grin.

Shay rolled her eyes. “What’s my title?”

“Alpha-fem,” he answered, still smirking.

“Right. Shannon said something about that. But what role do I play in the pack? I assume everyone has one.”

He spoke slowly, feeling his way. “You’ll rule the females, unquestionably. There may be some friction at first. Some testing to see what you’re made of. Some resentment. Because you’re an outsider, human—take your pick.”

She frowned. “Only the females? With the Ravens, Kiesha leads by Alex’s side.”

“The Ravens are more progressive than the Sparrowhawks, and even at that, I’m sure Alex eased her into it. There would have been a period of adjustment, for both Kiesha and the Ravens. One step, one change at a time. Isn’t that what you meant before?”

Shrugging, she asked, “What about the males? What reaction do you expect from them?”

He held her gaze, waiting to see her reaction. “They’ll sniff at you. Testing of a different sort.”

“To see if they can get to you through me?”

“That’s part of it. Shay, you’re a very beautiful woman. One any male would desire. On top of that, I chose you. That makes you the prize—a highly desirable one. You’re strong, intelligent, sexy, everything a male shifter looks for in a mate. If they can steal you away from me…” He left Shay to connect the dots.

Her nose wrinkled as though smelling something unsavory, and a fire burned in her eyes. “Great! Nothing I’d like more than a bunch of horny werewolves trying to get between my legs. Unless, of course, it’s a bunch of jealous bitches—with claws, I might add—who’d kill to trade places with me.”

“No one, male or female, will lay a hand on you.” The mere thought of it had his wolf in his throat.

She patted his chest. “Down, Cujo. You can’t protect me. Not from this. Doing so would make me look weak.”

“You’re my mate. You carry my child under your heart. I bloody well can and will keep you safe.” Rory felt his eyes go wolf, and the tips of his fingers prickled, claws waiting to spring out.

She narrowed her eyes in such a way that he knew, just knew meant he wasn’t going to like what came next. “Respect is earned, not forced. Eventually, I’ll have to stand on my own.”

Though it went against every protective instinct in his body, Rory knew Shay was right. But still… “You’re human. Not only that, you’re mine to protect.”

Snorting, she responded, “That’s fine as long as your idea of protection doesn’t cause me to lose face.” Suddenly she sighed and inched closer. “Rory, I know enough about shifters to know that anyone wanting to get to you could do so through me. Granted, you’d make them wish they’d never been born before you kill the bastard and anyone associated with him. But afterward, once the anger abated, grief—the crippling kind—would hit and most likely you’d be done for. In this relationship, I’m the weakest link.

“I also know enough about animals, canine in particular, to know you can psych them out. It’s all in the attitude. If you treat me like I’m powerless, then in their eyes that’s what I’ll be. I’m not saying throw me to the wolves—no pun intended—but I need you to stand back and let’s see what happens. I guess what I’m really saying is give me a chance to show I’m strong enough to stand by your side.”

Rory thought about it. He could understand her not wanting to appear weak. Could he suppress his protective nature enough to give Shay what she needed? “I can’t promise anything. You’re my mate. Protecting you is as natural to me as breathing. It’s instinctive to all shifter males. Not doing so would send the message that I don’t value you, that you aren’t truly my mate. Shifter males protect their own.”

He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she considered his words. He went on. “Think of how Alex is with Kiesha, Hugh with Mary Elizabeth, even the vampire with my sister. Do you honestly think I could do or be anything less with you?”

Shay sighed as she rolled her eyes. Finally she said, “You’re right. You do what you do, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He cupped her jaw. “As stated, there’ll be some friction at first. A period of testing and adjustment because I’ve been without a mate for so long, and because I’ve made known my intentions never to take one. You and the babe will be a shock, but they’ll get over it and if they don’t, they’ll deal with me.”

She considered his words. “What about the enemy within?”

Her words threw him. “What enemy?”

“Your enemies,” she clarified, her gaze intent.

Her expression indicated there was some bit of knowledge she wasn’t sharing with him. He wanted to ask, to push. Instead he decided to bide his time. Build trust between them and the rest would come.

“Everyone has enemies, and every pack has dissenters. If I’m not powerful enough to hold the pack and protect what’s mine, then I don’t deserve either one of you.”

Eyes narrowed, Shay pointed a finger at him and commanded, “Watch your ass.”

“Yours and mine, always.” Rory patted the body part in question. Though she smiled, she still seemed worried.

Part of him was offended. “Shay, I’ve been alpha more than eight years. You think someone handed me the position? I had to kill for it, my own father, and while I was still tired from the battle, had to take on five others who thought they were the better wolf for the job. In the years since, I’ve proven by combat and by wits that I’m more than tough enough, powerful enough to hold it.”

Rory rolled away from her, intending to get out of bed and put space between them. How dare his own mate doubt his abilities? How dare she think him too weak, too feebleminded to protect her and their babe?

“Rory…” Shay laid a hand on his arm. He shook it off and made to rise. Suddenly her arms were around his neck as she gripped him in a headlock.

“Oh no you don’t!”

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” He pulled on her forearm. In response she tightened her grip to near strangling and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You’re not going anywhere until we finish discussing this like rational adults. Well, I’ll be rational. You try not to be so hardheaded.”

“I’m done with this subject,” he grunted, still trying to pry her loose.

“I’m not.” She bit his ear—hard. “Think, damn it. Shove your ego to the side. Do you think I’d be here with you in the midst of a bunch of freaking werewolves who want my blood if I thought you couldn’t keep me safe? Hell, Rory, you fought off two horny wolves for me, or don’t you remember? You think I’d have been screaming your name at the top of my lungs if I hadn’t believed you’d do otherwise? And that’s when I thought we hated each other’s guts.”

The reminder of that night, the first night of the blue moon, calmed him. “Then what’s this about?”

“Conor.”

He stiffened and dropped his hands to his sides as the lightbulb in his head clicked on. Looking straight ahead, his tone neutral, he asked, “Are you ready to tell me now what the seer said?”

Shay was quiet. Through the link, he could feel the war going on inside of her as she debated whether or not to trust him with the truth. Tell me, baby.”

She released her hold, and the mattress shifted as she retreated, putting space between them. Rory turned and caught her by the wrist. “Trust, Shay. That’s what relationships are built on.”

She tilted her head to the side, her gaze bouncing between his hold on her wrist and his eyes. He knew the minute she dropped her guard. Felt it deep within as their mate bond strengthened.

“Don’t get crazy,” she warned.

“I won’t,” he promised.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

She narrowed her eyes in stern warning. “You blow up at me, and I’m going to be pissed.”

“Shay…”

“Oh, all right,” she said with a sigh. “I’m paraphrasing, but Conor said for me to be careful. That I’d be surrounded by treachery and that my safety and the safety of our daughters depended on you and I working together to defeat the enemy.”

Rory stared, unable to believe he’d heard right. Then what she said sank in.

UNDERNEATH HER BREATH, Shayla counted down. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three—”

Rory surged to his feet, and the words that came out of his mouth had even her flinching. He paced across the room and back. It was more of a prowl, that of a caged predator. Suddenly he spun and pinned her with a glare. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“You’ve already tried to send me away once for my protection.”

He visibly winced before shutting his eyes. Rory pinched the bridge of his nose and took a couple of deep breaths. “Shay, that was completely different.”

“Uh-huh.” She made certain he saw the skepticism in her facial expression.

He stared a moment, shook his head, then resumed pacing. A thought must have struck, for he paused midstep before turning to face her. “That’s why you refused the pack’s midwife.”

“Yes.”

“And why you were suspicious of Ashley,” he continued.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I already told you my reasons for disliking the…” Biting back the word she wanted to used, she finished with, “skank.”

He waved the Ashley issue away. “You said Conor told you not to trust anyone in the pack?”

Shay shook her head. “I told you I was paraphrasing. His actual words were, ‘You must fight to hold on to what is yours. Treachery surrounds you. Only by uniting together will you be victorious. Show no mercy. Your daughters’ safety depends on the decisions you make now.’” She left out the part about Rory loving her totally and completely, just the way she was. It wasn’t pertinent to their current conversation, and Conor had proven to be right about Rory loving her.

Rory let loose with another string of words. And she thought she knew how to curse. Compared to him, she was a naive amateur. She waited for him to settle down. When he quieted, she told him, “You can’t talk like that once the baby gets here. She’ll have a potty mouth.”

Nonplussed, he stared at her.

“Besides you promised not to blow up.” She pointed at him. “You, Mount Saint Helens, just erupted all over the place.”

“You can’t tell me my family’s in danger and not expect me to react!”

Shay arched an eyebrow and waited for him to calm. He looked like he wanted to hurt someone. Then he eyed the wall. “You punch a hole in that wall and you’ll have to fix it…tonight.”

The look he shot her should have singed the hair on her head. He paced in short, angry strides, back and forth. Shay placed some pillows behind her back and propped against the headboard, ready to wait him out.

After about five minutes of muttering and movement, he stopped with his back to her and clutched two handfuls of hair. Good thing he was a werewolf. If he kept pulling like that, he’d go bald. Finally he came and sat on the bed beside her.

“I don’t know if I completely buy into all this mumbo jumbo stuff—”

“You mean like werewolves and vampires being real?” Shay murmured wryly.

“But…he’s right about one thing. We’re a unit. Two halves of a whole. For this…us…to work, we have to learn to trust each other. And we can’t keep secrets,” he stated with a pointed stare.

She met his gaze with a bland expression, knowing she damn well would continue to determine when and what to share with him. An open book she wasn’t, and neither was he.

Before the silence could drag out too long, she asked, “So what’s the plan?”

When he didn’t say anything, she added, “You do have a plan, don’t you? We only have five months to figure this shit out or some folks are going to start dying. I will not have my children threatened.”

Rory seemed to come to some inner decision. The lethal smile that crept into the open boded ill to whomever it was aimed toward. Anyone else viewing it would have been chilled. “I’ll handle it,” he said. His tone was equally deadly.

Shay felt the pulse of temper tattoo a beat in her left temple. “You mean we’ll handle it, right? Mr. We’re a Unit, Two Halves of a Whole?”

He scowled. “No, I don’t. This half of our unit knows where the threat lies, so I’ll take care of it. No need to involve you and the babe.”

“Excuse me, but the word ‘treachery’ implies that you don’t know who the enemy or enemies are. You only think you do,” she snapped.

He leaned forward and planted his hands on either side of her hips. “I know my pack. I not only rule them, I live and grew up with them. I know who’s the most likely to want to do you harm.” His hazel eyes bled to gold, and a hint of fang showed in his mouth.

“And if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not!”

“But if you are? This is my life you’re talking about.”

“Wrong! It’s our lives because you are my life,” he roared as he shot to his feet.

Talk about taking the wind out of someone’s sails. His words weren’t flowery, but they were heartfelt and knocked the building anger right out of her. She no longer felt like arguing. Besides, Conor had said the decisions she made would be the determining factor.

“You’re right.” Her tone was so calm, so reasonable it had him observing her suspiciously. Probably waiting for the catch. “Your child and I are hungry. Feed us.”

Without waiting for him to react, Shay rose and went to one of the dressers, pulling out a pair of shorts and a tank. She still smelled like sex and Rory, but the scents appealed so she dressed without washing. She turned to find him still standing there.

“Food,” she prompted and, as her gaze fell on the discarded luggage, added, “and do something with those.”

Muttering something about pregnancy, mood swings, and incomprehensible women, Rory snagged his pants from the floor, donned them, and then snatched up her suitcases.

“The small one fits inside the larger for storage,” she told him.

From the doorway he glanced over his shoulder at her and snarled, “I’m not a bleeding idiot!” before leaving the room.

Patting her still-flat stomach, Shay told her child, “Your daddy’s pissed with me. Let’s give him a little time to calm.”

She remade the bed and rearranged the items on the dressers. Then went into the bathroom and straightened the medicine cabinets. While she worked, she went back to her earlier line of thought.

The decision she’d made. Hmm…

What she’d told Rory was correct. She did trust him to protect her from any and all threats of which he was aware. The problem was Rory had a huge blind spot when it came to his pack.

In this area she had an advantage. Sort of. Since she didn’t know the people, she could be more objective. Of course, her unfamiliarity with the pack was also a huge drawback. How did she distinguish between normal and suspicious? Maybe this was why Conor said it would take both of them. Rory’s knowledge coupled with her objectivity.

The smell of marinara sauce drifted into the bedroom. Dinner was almost done.

Sighing, she gave the thoughts circling in her head a break and went down to join her mate. “Can I help with anything?” she asked as she entered the kitchen.

“No, I have it.” His tone was brisk but not angry. The space from each other had helped, as she’d hoped it would.

Rory gestured her to the table. He served up the spaghetti, then joined her. “Let me know if the tomato sauce gives you a problem. Some pregnant women find it too acidic.”

Shay poked at a piece of ground beef with her fork. “You have so much meat in this, I doubt it will be an issue.”

He grunted in reply. A comfortable silence settled as they ate.

After the worst of her hunger was sated—she hadn’t lied about being hungry—Shay waved her fork at Rory. “Tell me more about the Sparrowhawks. Who are the major players and what do you think of them?”

The fork paused halfway to his mouth as he looked at her. “Why?”

She chopped up a few more noodles as she answered. “Because I’ll be meeting them—” She broke off as she remembered Rory said he was calling the pack together but didn’t say when. “When exactly are we having this little shindig?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” Her eating utensil clattered onto the table. “Why so soon?”

“This is a small town, a small pack. Word travels quickly. I wanted to have you to myself for a few days before having to share you with the others. That won’t be possible now that members of the pack know about you. Better to take control and make an official announcement.”

Shay rubbed wearily at her forehead. “All the more reason for you to give me an idea what to expect.”

Rory nudged her fork closer and motioned for her to continue eating. He waited until she’d eaten another mouthful to respond. “Wouldn’t you like to form your own opinions of them?”

Shay held up a finger until she’d swallowed. “I will, but forewarned is forearmed.”

“Makes sense. Something I’d do myself.” He rose, went to the refrigerator, and pulled out a gallon of milk.

“If that’s for me, I’m not drinking milk with tomato sauce.”

Rory ducked inside and came out with a bottle of apple juice instead.

“Don’t you have any punch, lemonade, soda? Anything with sugar?” she demanded.

“This is better for you.” He poured her a glass of the juice, grabbed a bottled water for himself, and returned to the table. “Where do you want to start?”

She motioned with the fork. “Who takes over if you’re”—she searched for and discarded several words before settling on—“incapacitated?”

He arched a brow. “It’s not that simple. There’d be fights to see who’d take control of the pack if I’m no longer able to lead.”

Shay thought for a moment. “Your second—what’s his name?—he wouldn’t automatically step into the gap?”

“Caleb Jones,” he supplied.

“The dude with the dreads?”

He nodded. “In the short term, as second he could act on my behalf.”

“And who’s his backup?”

Rory frowned. “MacDougal, my third.”

He didn’t seem to like this MacDougal guy too much. The tone he used when he said Caleb’s and MacDougal’s names was totally different. “Ranks are based on strength, right?”

“Yes.”

“So who’s after this Mac guy?’”

“If we’re speaking pecking order based solely on strength, next would be Wesley. He’s one of the council. A strong beta, but brash and impulsive. His wolf is powerful but unseasoned in combat.”

“Is he one of the shifters you fought when you assumed leadership?”

Something flashed on his face. “No.”

Hmm, something there. Something Rory didn’t want to talk about. “You said there were five contenders,” she probed. “If Wesley wasn’t one of them, then who?”

Rory looked over her shoulder. “MacDougal.” The response was clipped.

When he fell silent, Shay pushed a little harder, aware she was treading on dangerous ground. “Caleb too?”

He shook his head. “No. He’s never wanted to be alpha.”

It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Should she let it go? Shay wanted to. She could literally feel his agitation, his internal distress. But what if one of these guys hadn’t let go of the desire to be alpha? What if they were going about it in a subtler, more treacherous way? She couldn’t take that chance.

“And the others?”

“Dead,” he stated flatly.

Shay felt her eyes bulge, and her mouth dropped open. “You killed…?”

Rory lifted his head, and she trailed off. His eyes were pure gold. But what got her was the pain in them. “Aye. I killed five men that night. Four of whom their only crime was wanting to improve their status within the pack. My first official act as alpha was to ban dominance fights to the death.”

“Shannon said your father forced you to kill him,” she stated slowly.

“He set the terms of the battle, yes. To the death. No surrender.”

Shay placed her hand on top of his fisted one where it rested on the table. “I’m sure, if there’d been any other way, you would have taken it.”

Rory gazed at his hands, flexed them a few times before holding them up. “There’s blood on these.”

“Did they give you a choice?” she asked quietly. “Any of them?”

He swallowed hard, then placed his hands under the table, out of view. “No.” When he looked at her again, his eyes were bleak. “My mother called me a murderer. Screamed it at me.”

Shay felt such rage it was a good thing the woman was already dead. Shay would have killed her otherwise. “She was wrong,” she bit out. She wanted to curse, but more importantly, Shay wanted to soothe her hurting mate.

“I could have walked away.”

“Could you, really? And leave the pack you grew up expecting to lead to someone else? And Shannon—don’t alphas typically mate the strongest female? Could you have left your sister unprotected?” Shay knew the answer. Rory knew, but he hadn’t accepted it yet.

“No.” It came out strangled.

“Then you had no choice. Are you going to eat that?”

Rory frowned at his half-full plate. “I’m no longer hungry.”

Shay rose and gathered both their plates. “Where’s the foil?”

He grabbed her wrist and held it so that her plate lowered to the table. “You need to eat to keep up your strength.”

“I’ve had enough. I ate more than you.” She tugged free and placed the leftovers on the countertop, then hunted in the pantry until she found what she was looking for. After putting the food away, she took a dish towel, moistened it, and wiped down the stove and table.

“You don’t have to clean after me.” Rory rose to help.

“And you don’t have to slave for me. I’ll do my share.” She took one last glance at the room to make sure everything was in place. As she tossed the dish towel into the sink, she told him, “Let’s go take a shower and snuggle. It’s been a long day.”