Home > Books > The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(106)

The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(106)

Author:Cate C. Wells

There’s still an unsettledness in the air. Maybe there’s no time like the present to show the folks that change can be good—and impress upon them all one last time that the highest-ranking wolf in any pack is that one who rules the alpha.

“If we were to go to town now, mate, what could we do there?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“You want to go to town now?”

I nod.

She searches my eyes, and I feel her nosing around the bond, trying to ferret out my intentions. “I don’t think much is open this late except maybe the bars?

“We’re not going to a bar. What else is there?”

She thinks. “Well, we could get ice cream.”

“Yeah?” Wolves aren’t that big on dairy.

“Mari and Annie love it.”

“It’s from cows right?” If it comes from a cow, it could be good.

“Yeah.”

“All right. Let’s go for ice cream in a big, safe group.” I help her to her feet and address the lodge. “Who else is coming to town for ice cream?”

The place erupts. Pups start begging. Half of the elders shake their heads, aghast, while the other half help each other up and grab their shawls and hats.

“Bring your girls,” I tell Una. I’m not leaving them alone with a frustrated Eamon and company. Lochlan’s sulking at the B-roster table, about to blow. He’s got a ‘roided up look about him.

Una smiles and waves her girls over. My wolf begins to relax. The pack is acting like itself again, each member worried about himself. Challenge averted. For now.

I have no doubt that this shit will come to a head soon, but not tonight. I wave Ivo over and tell him to tap Gael and a few other trusted wolves to stay back and keep an eye on Eamon’s faction. Then, I escort my mate toward the door. Her roommates trot along behind us, and as we go, the sound of scraping chairs and arguments rise behind us.

Tradition versus change.

The same-old, same-old versus ice cream.

Not for the first time, I marvel that such major shit hinges on such small things.

I park in the lot by the commissary, and it’s a short walk. I send Fallon for my keys. The packmates choosing adventure follow as we make our way slowly down the path toward the commons. The sun is setting, and the foothills are a solid black outline blending into the deep purple of the evening sky. It’s a beautiful night.

My tension isn’t set aside; it’s gone. My enemies’ machinations have no consequence when Una leaves her hand in mine after I grab it to help her navigate a root in the path.

Behind us, there are whispers tinged with excitement. I hear Conor and Jimmy. Dierdre and Liam. Nuala. Dermot. Old Noreen. Ashlynn. Tye, oddly enough. And behind them there’s a parade of other mated pairs with their young. The longer we walk, the freer their laughter, the louder their voices.

“What’s ice cream?” a small voice asks at the top of his lungs.

“Like thick milk,” an elder female replies.

“That’s gross.”

“Yes, but I’m not missing this for nothin’。”

Una hides a smile. Our bond pulses. “You’re really taking us for ice cream,” she says.

“Yup.”

“Eamon’s crew is just going to get angrier.”

“Don’t care. There’s a new order. They’ll fall in line or leave.”

She sighs, and worry threads through our connection. “You know I can’t win against any of them in a challenge.”

“No, I don’t know that.”

She huffs. “You won’t always be there.”

“Yes, I will.”

She rolls her eyes. She doubts me, but time will tell.

“Your little wolf might not be able to take all comers—yet—but you rule me. So, you rule the pack. Get used to it. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I rule you?” She scoffs, but she also adds the slightest sassy sway to her walk. Even in the dark, I don’t miss it.

“You lead me on a leash.” I slap that swaying ass. Can’t resist.

She yips, and she gives a good, salty yank on the bond. Much stronger than she has before.

The early rising stars have never been more beautiful, nor has the susurration of the night critters in the woods. Her lightness makes me drunk.

Yeah, I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be in charge. I want to feed my mate thick milk and then race her home through the fields, stopping by the old dens for her to ride my hard, aching cock.

Yeah. That’s the best damn plan I’ve ever had.