CHAPTER 27

I'd assumed the rise to alpha had gone smoothly for Anthony, since he had the backing of most of the powerful wolves in the upper levels of the organization.

My assumption was proven wrong the next morning at breakfast. We sat around the kitchen island sipping cappuccino and inhaling Martha's Tuscan Breakfast when Jacob let out a shout from the foyer. Micheal and Chase rushed in from the back offices, guns drawn.

"We've been infiltrated," Micheal shouted, pushing in front of us.

Martha threw down the pan she was washing and reached under the sink for her Colt M4.

"Who?" Anthony demanded, leaping down from his stool and reaching for the gun Chase was handing him.

Micheal didn't have time to answer before four wolves swarmed in from the hallway. They were outfitted in black tactical gear and impossible to identify until the second group came on from the back, led by Victor, the Caporegime who ran our weapons acquirement and distribution on the east side. I'd never much liked the man, he had a penchant for violence and a sadistic streak a mile wide. Figured he'd be one to make a challenge.

Victor was one of the older wolves in the organization, probably in his mid fifties. He was naturally broad, like a fighter, with dark hair and brows that were far to heavy. His black beard was trimmed and oiled, the scent of it, sickeningly sweet, filled the kitchen.

"You and me, Anthony," Victor growled.

I was a little surprised at that. He'd come in with a crew, guns blazing and we were outnumbered. He didn't strike me as a man particularly concerned with honor, so I could only surmise he wanted an audience to witness his success to prove legitimacy of his claim when he won.

The crew had their guns pointed at all of us besides Anthony.

"No interference," one of the helmeted men said.

"Why do this Victor, when you know you're going to lose?" Anthony responded casually.

"*Why *do I do this? I do this because I have to do this. You're weak, Anthony. Not fit for Alpha."

"Really? Because I didn't see you running for the gunman that killed Rob, because you weren't there."

"And what did running for the gunman change?" Victor wanted to know, "there was no capture, no vengence against this murder. How could you, who claims to be alpha, allow that to happen? Where is our retaliation?"

If it had been a regular attack, by another pack, or a wolf just trying to take Rob out, there would have been retaliation. We would have had a scent and tracked down the offending party and visited all hell on whoever they were and everything they loved. It was the way of the organization, and a big part of why we were rarely attacked. But it *hadn't* been a regular attack, and Victor either hadn't been privy to the information about the shooter's abilities, or he didn't believe them.

"Tell me," Victor continued his face turning red, "When those bullets hit Rob's throat and melted into his flesh, were you already dreaming of taking his place, or was that something you'd already determined?"

Anthony snarled, his wolf flashing in his eyes. "What are you implying?"

"I'm saying that it's incredibly convenient, that a sniper knew the exact location the pack would be breaking. I'm saying it's even more convenient that your *pet*," he gestured to me, "was the first to run off, before anyone else even knew what happened. And our sniper got away, didn't he?"

The last part was for me, and Victor snarled it in my direction. I lifted a lip and showed him teeth.

"Rob's little pet and now you've whored your way into Anthony's lap too, by the call to find you we got last night. I have no taste for uppity little brats," he leered at me, "the first thing I'm going to do when I am alpha is teach the pretty princess how an alpha should be obeyed."

"Big words for a man that's about to have his dick served to him on a platter," I replied. And Anthony better damned well win the challenge and kill Victor, or I would.

"You challenging me for alpha?" Anthony interrupted, "or are you vying with Raven for Luna, Victor?"

Victor snapped at the insult, his anger too great, his wolf burst forth. It was bigger than I expected, and a sort of black-gray that was hard to describe. Deep brown eyes sat above a muzzle filled with sharp looking teeth.

Anthony changed right after Victor. His wolf was a tawny brown, and fit, its muscles very evident even under the long fur, but he was smaller than Victor's wolf and I suddenly found myself a little bit nervous about the outcome.

Victor's wolf wasted no time making the first attack, he flew toward Anthony, teeth snapping at the air when the smaller wolf dodged out of the way. They continued like that for long minutes, Anthony's wolf would dodge in at Victor, feigning attack until Victor was forced to retaliate. Anthony would slip out of the way and they would begin all over.

What, exactly, was he doing?

*He's playing to his strength.* My wolf noted with approval. *The other wolf is bigger and stronger, but he is not in good shape. Your lover is wearing him out.*

My wolf had no qualms when I took a lover, and there had been several, mostly short term relationships through the years. But she didn't let my needs get in the way of her desires. Anthony would stay my lover alone, not bound to her and not her mate, not unless she decided it was so. Because of our nature, her strength and independence from my psyche I'd sort of settled on the fact that we might not find a mate that met both of our needs. Some would say it was sad, my parents would have for certain, but you cant really miss what you never had.

Victor's wolf was tiring. He hadn't been at the run, and I imagined neither the man nor the beast did much for regular exercise. His sides heaved while Anthony was barely winded.

The final blow came when Victor's wolf made a mistake. He still thought size and strength would win the day and charged Anthony when his wolf seemed to lose footing on the kitchen floor after a particularly close dodge. It was a ruse though, and Anthony's wolf was ready for him. The tawny wolf got its maw around the thick expanse of Victor's throat, his teeth clamping tight, flesh tearing. Victor's wolf howled and shook, trying to relieve itself from its assailant, but Anthony held tight using his strong shoulder muscles to tug and rip at the jugular. Blood soaked the kitchen. It poured down Victor's chest, it soaked Anthony's mouth dripping out from beneath his teeth and even still he held on. Letting go now would spare the other man's life, but Anthony would always be seen as being weak in the challenge. It would leave him open to any others that thought of mercy as a weakness.

Victor's wolf fought valiantly, but eventually it sagged, the lack of air and blood loss too much. He sank slowly toward the floor, Anthony still holding on until the last breath shuddered out, the heart stuttering to a stop.

The room was silent, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, so quiet the cocking of a Colt M4 echoed like thunder.

"Now," Martha growled at the men standing agape, looking at their dead leader, "get out of my kitchen."