“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN’T ASK? YOU’RE an alpha, boy. Lead the damn pack,” Richard Ricci said. “They’ll follow if you’re even half the man I raised you to be.”

Twenty feet across the clearing I could hear him as clearly as if he stood next to me. Richard’s deep baritone voice, like his son’s, carried as though he spoke through a megaphone.

I looked at Anthony standing in front of the big man, arms folded tight across his chest, feet planted wide, chin high, firm. “Don’t worry about it, Pop. I’ll work it out.”

Richard snorted, his hard barrel belly shaking up through his chest with a laugh. Even at this distance I could tell there was no humor in it. “The rabbits are loose, boy. The hunt’s about to start. You’ve got no time left to work it out. If you can’t lead them tonight, you won’t pull them in line tomorrow night when it really counts.”

“It’s just a stupid game, Pop,” Anthony said. “Some things are more important.”

“The hell you say, boy. Nuthin’s ever just a game.” He stood four inches taller than Anthony and looked like he outweighed him by forty pounds easy. He wore his pure white hair cut short enough to see the pink hue of his skin underneath. He had a round face and arms as thick as my thigh. Even happy the man could intimidate a rattlesnake. And Richard Ricci was not happy.

Anthony shook his head and turned to leave, but Richard reached out his long arm and snagged him by the scruff of the neck. It was really the back of his shirt collar, but the effect was the same. The big man jerked Anthony backward so fast he nearly fell. Good balance and an athletic build was all that saved him.

“Don’t you walk away from me, boy,” he said, trying his best to lift Anthony off his feet. He was about fifteen years past that ability.

Anthony jerked free easily and turned on his father, face tight with leashed anger. “I said, I can handle it, Pop. My way.”

“Your way? You mean your mother’s way,” Richard said. “Women ask permission, boy. Men, true alphas, take what they want and fight to keep it.”

“Right. Like you know anything about my mother.” Anthony turned and disappeared into the crowd surrounding them.

“I know she’s mine,” Richard said, obviously confident Anthony could still hear him. “Can you say the same for the Banebridge female?”

My whole body flinched. I blinked while my brain struggled to accept he was talking about me the same as he would his car or his shoes. Heat rose in my cheeks as those nearest to me turned to see my reaction. I felt two inches tall.

Richard’s voice grew louder, carrying over the murmuring crowd of nearly three hundred werewolves who’d gathered in the clearing for the evening sport. “Maybe one of your brothers can seduce the bitch. You’re my first son, Anthony. Not my only son.”

An uncomfortable quiet settled over the clearing, anticipation thick on the air, but Anthony didn’t answer. After several pregnant seconds the soft murmur of conversation began again.

“We gonna have to be part of the Ricci pack?” my ten-year-old cousin, Claudia, asked.

I tucked a few strawberry strands behind her ear then ruffled the top of her head. “No, sweet pea. No matter what he says we don’t have to do anything we don’t want to.”

She folded her arms across her chest and tightened her brows. “Good. ’Cause I don’t like that man. He’s too loud and bossy.”

“Like father, like sons,” Mom said beside me. “You heard him, Mattie. Those Ricci boys will be jockeying for position around us all night. What are we supposed to do with no one to fend them off?”

Richard Ricci had four sons, including Anthony, each to a different mother. Competition among males in a Purist pack could be lethal. If Richard wanted me under the family wing, the pressure on his sons to be the one to deliver could force them to desperate measures. And my pack would be at the center of it. I had to do what I could to protect them.

“You follow me. That’s what we do.” I turned to face my pack. “Until I take a mate, I’m leading this pack. Understood? I don’t want anyone trying to be a hero. I can handle their advances if I know my pack trusts me. If I know you’ll follow my lead, no matter what, I can take care of the males.”

A few of my cousins nodded and some mumbled agreement. No one refused. That’s all I needed.

“We still hunting our rabbit?” Claudia asked.

“Absolutely,” I said. “They set free twenty rabbits last week. One for each pack. Ours was scented with jasmine. Do you know that smell?”

She shook her head.

“Well, then we’ll get you a sniff. I’m pretty sure the perfumes belong to one of the councilmen’s wives.” When your mate is on the international werewolf council you can afford to scent game rabbits with twenty different kinds of expensive perfumes.

Tonight was sort of a practice run for the big hunt tomorrow night, more an exhibition, a show of pack teamwork and tracking ability than an all-out hunt.

“This is supposed to be fun. That’s what this Gathering is all about. Right? So let’s have some fun.” God, I hoped that sounded more genuine than it felt. Tonight the rabbits stood a better chance of coming out unscathed than me.

The forest was nearly as bright as it could be on a cloudless night, with the moon waxing one day till full. At a glance, David and Brian Ricci looked just like their older brother, Anthony. Both big-boned, larger than a normal timber wolf, with thick, butter-blond fur and bright eyes. Markus Ricci, Richard’s youngest son, had fur the color of strawberries and cream, so identifying him was a snap. But I didn’t need to rely on my eyesight to know the difference between the brothers. I could smell them. All around me.

Only my mother and I raised our muzzles to the wind, scenting them. The rest of my pack remained oblivious, their noses to the forest floor tracking our rabbit. I caught David’s scent off to my left, still hidden behind trees and underbrush, but growing closer. Brian was on the right, watching me from beneath a thick pine. Markus stood a few feet back from Brian, too young to make a play for me on his own.

The moment our eyes met, Brian started toward me, head low, stride slow and steady, muscles rolling smooth and fluid beneath his thick fur. Markus followed but several paces back. I knew by his body language he’d only watch.

Good, one less challenger I’d have to worry about.

My pack was spread out behind me, some as far as thirty feet back. My mother was the closest and she closed the distance the instant she saw Brian advance. I snapped at her to keep her back, keep her safe. There was nothing she could do. This was about strength and dominance, about proving a point.

There were a lot of ways for a potential mate to prove he was strong enough to lead me and my pack. When both parties agreed most of them were symbolic. But the hairs bristling at my hackles told me the Ricci brothers really weren’t into symbolism. Wolf instinct—it was a good thing.

I crouched, keeping my center of balance low and my eyes glued on Brian. He circled me, his lips trembling back to bare sharp, white teeth, his low growl rumbling between us. I flicked my ears, pivoting them to locate David. I could survive a challenge from one scary, big male, but two at once just wouldn’t be fair.

I found him, pacing the ridge of a small hill about twenty yards to our left. His big paws crunched leaves, twigs and other forest debris with each step. He was waiting his turn. Thank goodness.

I focused my attention back on Brian an instant before he lunged. A flash of icy blue eyes and white teeth, a blur of yellow fur and then—bam! He slammed into me so hard it took a second to believe I hadn’t been run over by a bus. I hit the ground hard. Someone yelped. I’m pretty sure it was me.

Shards of pain tore through my side and down my back leg. The air punched out of my lungs and my vision starred. If it weren’t for the feel of razor-sharp teeth pressing against my neck, I might’ve lain there for several minutes trying to suck a single good breath. But I didn’t have that kind of time.

I writhed underneath Brian, his body heavy, almost suffocating, on top of me, pinning me at the shoulder. I wasn’t ready to give up.

I used my tail to pinwheel my lower body, twisting enough to get my back legs under me. My wild thrashing edged his weight to the side, but his jaw tightened its grip on my neck. I dug the long nails of my back feet into the soft forest floor, then pulled back.

Brian’s teeth pierced my skin trying to hold me under him. My mind screamed, but it came out as a yelping kind of wail. I didn’t stop. I wiggled and twisted and pulled, feeling his big, heavy body lose its leverage. Suddenly he slipped off and all he had was his mouth on my neck.

Warm blood trickled down my skin under my fur. I blocked it from my brain and slammed back against him, driving us both up onto our hind feet. I snapped my head over his, twisting his neck. His teeth tore my flesh. Pain burned through my body, squeezing my lungs so I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see for the blinding shock of it.

The speed and twist made him lose his grip, and we both tumbled to the ground from the force of the quick maneuver. I was free, but with only an instant to turn the tide.

Our fall had landed Brian beneath me on his back, soft underbelly—and other things—exposed. I did the only thing I could think of to end the battle; I fought like a girl.

I lunged toward the soft fleshy pocket of his testicles and clamped my razor-sharp teeth down.

Brain suddenly went very, very still.

I growled, low and menacing, then closed my teeth a hairsbreadth more. Brian whimpered, his tail stiff. I growled again and pulled on the tender flesh, just enough to force a mental image of his balls snipped off. It worked.

His whole body went pliant. His whimpers became sounds of submission, soft snorts, quick breaths, cajoling me however he could. He twisted, struggling to reach my face, licking my fur at my shoulder, my neck, stroking me, assuring his surrender. I let him go.

He swung his feet under him in an instant, met my gaze and then backed away. I’d done it. I’d held my ground and proved my dominance. Never mind that it was dumb luck he’d lost his balance and exposed his Achilles’ heel, so to speak. It counted.

I turned to face David, my body going low, centering my balance. The bite on my neck stung like the constant press of a hot poker and the muscle around the wound ached. But it was the sharp pain in my hindquarter that worried me. I must’ve landed on a rock or a hard root; the pain forced me to favor the leg and that could be lethal. Unfortunately, there were no time-outs in battles for dominance. That was kinda the point.

Anthony’s scent tickled my nose before I saw him. A blur of fur, a flash of teeth and two yellow wolves came tumbling down the hillside toward me. They landed in a heap four feet away, a twisting knot of snarls and snaps, bone-chilling growls and sharp, gnashing teeth.

They got to their feet, circled. David’s ear was torn, bleeding. Their growls rumbled like the roll of a kettle drum through the forest, the sound vibrating through my chest. There was nothing I could do but wait to see who won.

Muzzle to muzzle Anthony was the taller, heavier wolf, but size didn’t always mean victory. Dominance was as much mental as physical. But I knew in my gut David didn’t have what it took to go toe-to-toe with Anthony. He was weaker in every way and his weakness fragranced his skin, his fur, like something half ripe, half ready. He couldn’t escape the fact. Unless fate intervened and his luck turned, it was only a matter of time before he accepted it or died trying.

David stopped, and Anthony mirrored him—then took a step forward. As though instinct took hold when good sense was lacking, David moved back quickly keeping the distance. Just like that the battle’s outcome was sealed.

If wolves had facial expressions I imagined David’s was a mix of confusion and indecision. He hadn’t meant to concede, I was sure of it. But that single reflexive step backward had given victory to Anthony. Of course, he could ignore his accidental retreat but the mental edge it’d given his brother and the damage it’d done to him was usually irrecoverable.

Anthony straightened, his thick furry ears perking as though waiting for David to make it official. With a hard snort and a shake of his head, David turned and jogged over the hill, disappearing deeper into the forest. Markus hurried after his brothers.

Anthony turned to face me and my body fought itself for the correct response. My legs bent, lowering my center of balance, ready to fight, even as my belly fluttered and my sex pulsed. Instinct, primal, powerful, pounded through my veins, craving the strongest, victorious suitor like it craved air. Instincts be damned; I wasn’t about to become a Purist no matter how much of an animal turn-on it was to see him battle for me.

He was riding a triumphant high as he jogged toward me. I could smell his thick musk billowing before him like an intoxicating cloud. The scent surrounded me, spiked my wolf lust to mate with the proven superior. I fought it. He didn’t.

Anthony was acting like a wolf not a man, so when I launched myself at his neck he was taken by complete surprise. I managed to graze his flesh, felt the thin scrape of his skin curl up the inside of my teeth before he dodged and shook me off.

I’d landed on my side and pain shot through my hind leg tearing a line straight up my spine like fire on a fuse. I barked, high and sharp, half from pain and half are sult of air forced out of my lungs.

He narrowed his eyes on me, his stance suddenly more aggressive, more determined. I had to get up, had to fight. I knew this time it wasn’t about proving a point. This time it was about taking what he wanted, taking because he could. This time it was about sex. But each twist of my body to get my feet under me sent new shards of agony through my leg.

I wasn’t fast enough. Anthony closed the distance he’d thrown me in a heartbeat. He leapt around to my tail end, his powerful front legs clamping around my sides, his claws digging through my fur to my flesh. I’d only caught a glimpse of his little pink penis wagging out from its pouch. His hips were already pumping against me, though he missed my pussy with every thrust. Eventually, he’d find the mark.

No. I squirmed, tried to swing my hind end out from under him, but he held on, dancing along behind me. His sharp teeth nipped at my shoulders, the back of my neck, trying to hold me still. I couldn’t get free. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard my mom barking at him. I knew she was biting his ass, tugging on his tail with her teeth. He didn’t seem to notice.

Panic sunk through my veins like ice, freezing my brain, making me stupid. Then it hit me. There was nothing I could do to get through to him. He was a Purist at heart, just as I feared. My wants and needs meant nothing to him. I was female. He’d won me. I was going to be raped.

White-hot pain sliced along my side and ripped through my brain with such force that for one terrifying moment I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think what had happened. A screaming yowl exploded out of me, the sound so close to human I thought for a second I’d shifted. I wrenched my head around to see blood soaking my side, turning my caramel fur brown as rust, wet and clumping.

His claw had cut through to the meat. I fell, not even realizing he’d let me go until I felt the soft grass under my hip. Anthony shifted fast, faster than I’d ever seen anyone shift. One second he was wolf, I blinked, and he was human, naked, panting, his violet eyes wide with worry.

“Mattie, oh God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He drove his fingers through his mop of hair. “Damn it, this challenge bullshit is making me crazy. I thought I felt you offer and then you refused me. Hell, maybe I just wanted you to offer so badly I imagined it. I dunno. Why the fuck won’t you just choose me? Please. You’re killing me. You know I love you. I never would’ve—”

I spun around and bit the hand he held out to me—hard. When he jerked back I took off and my pack followed. They’d been watching helpless for some time, I realized, but now I needed them, their protection, while I shifted to heal the wounds on my hip, neck and side.

I ran through the moonlit forest, trees and brush raking through my fur, my heart thundering in my ears. Anthony’s words rolled through my brain. I hadn’t offered to him; I was sure of it. But I’d wanted to. I realized now, when I saw him drive David off I’d wanted him, then, always and forever.

Could he be so attuned to me that he understood my thoughts better than I understood myself? Or had desperation driven him to revert to his Purist upbringing for answers? Was he a heartless, self-centered Purist, or my perfect life mate? And how the hell was I supposed to know the difference?