The Alpha's Fight: Huntsville Pack Book 3 (3 page)

“We should?” Confused, Jane knit her eyebrows. “Do I know him?”

“If
you
don’t know, how would I? But I expect you’ve never met,” Tillie said. "He's been away for a long time."

“So why should we meet now?”

“Because tomorrow is Friday, and it’s blind date night. Do you want to go out with
him
?” Tillie jerked her head in the direction of the man who’d been so offended by Jane's earlier language. He was chasing gelatin across his plate, failing to get it onto his spoon, his toupee slipping forward on his head. He shoved his hair back into place with one hand, while the other carried the spoon to his mouth, trembling the whole way. Just as he was about to eat the gelatin, his spoon tipped and dumped it all down on his lap. Tillie shook her head. “Or would you rather be with someone your own age? Who, I might add, is very single and very alpha. He’s quite a catch.”

“Oh. I...uh...you know, that sounds great, but I think it’s too much too soon,” Jane stammered. "I should probably skip date night."

“Nonsense,” Tillie said, her voice firm. “It’ll give you something to do and you’re so pretty, he won’t mind.”

Jane’s hand went to her head and she smoothed her hair away from her face.
I’m pretty?
“That’s kind of you to say—”

Tillie didn’t give Jane a chance to turn her down. “Great. It's settled then. Come to my room at three tomorrow. I’m on the same floor as you, room one-twelve.” She patted her hip. “I would come to you, but these old gams don’t move like they used to.”

Not knowing how to handle the sudden date, Jane just shrugged. At worst, she just wouldn’t show up, although she had the feeling Tillie might hunt her down anyway. The big question, to Jane’s mind at least, was she even single?

What if I have a mate? And kids?

R
yder ran through the woods, letting his nose be his guide. The fragrant scents of late summer surrounded him; leaves, bark, earth, fawns, pine and air so fresh, he kept pausing to suck in as much as his lungs could handle.

The gorgeous day had inspired him to shift and go for a run. That and it was a good way to avoid his alpha. Someone had set Mason on the warpath and the alpha made it known he wanted to talk to Ryder one-on-one. Only, when he said talk he really meant a brutal meeting with his fists. That was his M.O.—violence and blood. All Mason had to go on, though, were rumors—and if Ryder ever figured out who had started them there'd be hell to pay. Until then he would lie low and try to wait it out.

So he'd hopped onto his motorcycle, a black and red Ducati, and gone as deep as he could into the hills, seeking shelter in the thick woods there. Stashing his bike behind some bushes, he'd shifted into his wolf and stretched his legs. He'd been running at an easy lope for hours now and, in fact, had roamed so far, he was almost to the meadows— the place that would become his new den.

If everything went according to plan, he wouldn't have to answer to Mason much longer.

Of course, that assumed Mason let him live once he realized the rumors were true.

A raven crowed overhead, the shriek an unpleasant shock to Ryder's ears. He went still at the sound, knowing the raven's call was always a warning. His grandfather had taught him to always heed the raven.

"They're an extra sense. Eyes high in the sky where we can't see. If they're bothered, you should be bothered, son," the old man had said, a faint wheeze in his voice. Alpha Alan Chase didn't live long after that conversation. Looking back, Ryder could see the ill health that had plagued his grandfather. It sent a pang of sadness through him. He always regretted not spending more time with the man who'd been such a big part of his life.

"What should I do when they caw?" Ryder had asked. He'd been a teen then, just coming into his strength and building the muscles that would later attract the attention of the Pack League's Mixed Martial Arts team.

"Go absolutely still. Don't even breathe. Listen first, then carefully sniff the air and wait. Ravens are smart. They don't go screeching for nothing."

"Okay," Ryder had said, unsure of his grandfather's advice.

"One time, a raven warned me about a boar coming up behind me, thinking he was going to rush me. " The old man stroked his long beard. "Shifters are strong, but boars are mean enough to take us on. They can sneak up on you."

"You couldn't smell him coming?"

"The wind wasn't right, son. And he was quiet. You won't always hear them and they'll stay at your flank, just out of your line of sight. But up there," he'd pointed to the sky, "the raven sees everything."

"What did you do? Did the boar attack?"

"He sure did, but I was ready for him. I puffed up as big as I could, growled low and loud and went straight for him. I let him see me coming. Locked eyes with him."

"Didn't that just make him fight?"

His grandfather shook his head. "Naw. He turned tail and ran. It works every time. Boars are only mean when they think they can take you. Of course, they do tend to think they can take everyone, but if you can convince them they're no match for you, they'll back off."

"And if not?"

"You kill them, son. That's what you do." His grandfather laughed and slapped his knee. "I brought home a few boars for dinner in my time. Meanness ain't the same as being smart." He held up a finger. "Don't forget, though, to pay the raven his due."

"Is that why you always leave food for them?" He'd seen his grandfather put out leftovers or pieces of a fresh kill since he was a young boy.

His grandfather nodded. "Once they understand you'll feed them, they'll protect you."

"Does everyone do this?" Ryder asked, wondering how it was no one had explained it to him before.

"You ever see anyone else do it?"

Ryder shook his head.

"Some wolves only care about feeding themselves. Those are the ones who have no friends. But I learned a long time ago, that the more I feed, the more friends I have." He threaded his fingers together and showed them to Ryder. "There are many kinds of strength in the world and friends you can count on is one you can't neglect. Not if you want to be an alpha worth your howl."

Another harsh raven call brought Ryder out of the past and into the present. The entire flock had taken flight, an ominous shadow rippling in the sky. He narrowed his eyes as he watched them. They shrieked as they flew, the sound raking a chill up Ryder's spine. Someone or something was coming.

He almost hadn't started feeding them again, since coming home, but there they were, proving their value. It had only taken a week for a flock to 'adopt' him. They followed him on runs and, at night, roosted in the fir tree next to his home.

Memories of his grandfather filled his mind as he made for higher ground, hoping it would let him see what or who was there. His father had died long before Ryder could remember and grandpa Alan had been the one to teach Ryder to be a man. His grandfather passed while Ryder was caught up in the shifter MMA circuit. It had been too sudden for goodbyes and then his mom died, too. She'd just keeled over one day. They said her heart had given out. He'd been on a fighting tour in Tokyo when she'd passed. Losing his mom had almost broken him. There'd been an empty space in Ryder's heart that no one could fill ever since.

Not that he hadn't tried.

Oh, how he'd tried.

Women. Booze. Drugs. And fights outside the ring.

Nothing had eased the pain, but the grief eventually wore him down until he went numb. He'd become laser focused on his fighting career then; winning match after match until finally the Pack Council, which oversaw the League and all aspects of shifter life, had asked him to retire.

"Ticket sales are down. They already know you're going to win," explained one of the Pack League reps. He was tall and pale and kept fiddling with his paisley gray tie.

"Find someone to beat me then," Ryder had growled.

"What do you think we've been doing?" Another rep, this one just as tall but wider in the shoulders, shook his head and crossed his arms. He'd skipped the tie, but still wore a suit. "We've brought in the best talent we can find and you're kicking their tails."

"I thought that was a good thing." Ryder glared at the suits. They weren't fighters, would never be fighters, but somehow they called the shots in his life. He considered challenging them both and taking them on, but then let the idea go.

The Pack Council ran the league. Its power didn't lie in any one shifter. They outranked him due to their numbers and bureaucracy. It made the two men in front him alpha even if they weren't. He might pound them into the ground, but there'd be dozens more ready to swarm him afterwards. Better to go along and not make waves. Still, it riled him to have pissant betas telling him what to do.

"It is a good thing...until it's boring."

And that's how Ryder had ended up back in Timber Creek. He'd been too good—oh wait, make that
boring
— for the MMA circuit and what he saw upon returning home made him realize he was too 'good' for his pack, too. He'd grown. They hadn't, and apparently, only Ryder had benefited from his grandfather's wisdom. The pack was different now. Changed by the new alpha, Mason Claw, and warped by his sense of violence and domination.

Ryder had stayed out of Mason's way, but not because he was afraid to fight him. No, he could take his alpha. The thing was, he didn't want to.

Let Mason have Timber Creek. Ryder had other dreams.

With a decisive nod of his head, he crouched into the shadows and waited.

The wolf that emerged through the brush a few moments later was one Ryder knew well. They'd grown up together and when he was five, he'd lost a bit of his ear to some tomfoolery with a knife. Any scars or missing parts before the first shift were often permanent and so he recognized his friend, Erik, by the notch in his ear.

Ryder gave a loud 'woof' of greeting that caused Erik to practically jump out of his fur. Frowning, Ryder stepped into the open, his paws quiet on the soft ground. It wasn't like Erik to be skittish. He kept his body language open and smiled, allowing his tongue to loll out of his mouth to make the gesture extra friendly.

Erik's ears went back and a soft whine trilled in the back of his throat.

Wanting to talk, Ryder shifted back into his human form. The one drawback of his animal nature was the inability to express the complex ideas and emotions of his human side.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

Erik shook his head, his form blurring as he also returned to his human form. "I heard you're starting a new pack."

Ryder went still, but then forced his body language to relax into a more casual stance. "Where'd you hear that?"

"From Mason."

"Where'd Mason hear it?" Ryder kept his voice even as his heart raced in his chest. Someone hadn't kept his secrets, which put them all in danger.

"He took Peter's kid." Erik fidgeted, transferring his weight from one foot to the other.

The news hit Ryder like a slap. "What? He's got Julia? Why?"

Erik shrugged. "I dunno. He just took her. Said she was old enough to be mated and that he'd see to it since her own father wouldn't."

"She's seventeen. Barely past her first shift. What the hell is Mason thinking?"
What a dirty fucking cur
, he growled to himself. Julia had both feet firmly planted in childhood, she was nowhere near ready for a mate. "At least let her graduate from High School first."

"He's the alpha. It's his right—" Hostility peppered his scent as he defended his alpha.

Ryder cut him off. "To what? Mate children?"

Erik just shrugged again. "You can challenge him and find out if you want."

"Don't tempt me." Ryder clenched his hands into fists. Mason wasn't a fool. He knew no one in their right mind would mate with someone as young as Julia, but hiding behind mating laws gave him an excuse to work her over for information. Julia was a frail, timid girl. A little roughing up and a threat to send her to some other pack for mating and her father had probably told Mason everything he knew.

"Why are you here, Erik?"

"Mason sent me." The other man's hands curled into fists and he swallowed hard as he straightened his shoulders. "You're a traitor and you'll meet a traitor's death."

With that he leaped for Ryder, but he'd anticipated the move and stepped to the side. Erik flew past him, crashing into a bush and emerging a second later, scowling and muttering swear words.

Ryder held up a hand as Erik prepared to charge him again. "I'm not fighting you."

"Fine. That makes killing you easier." Erik lunged forward again.

Ryder met him halfway, pushing him backward, until he lost his balance and fell. "Why are you doing his dirty work? It's not like he's taking care of your family."

Erik jumped to his feet. "He's the alpha."

"So that makes it okay to cut off your mom and force her to get a job in the human world just so she can eat?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know he's driving a Mercedes while your mom's barely making it."

"She deserved it," Erik snarled.

"Really? How so?"

"She didn't want me to join Mason's inner pack."

"I can understand that. Can't you?" Ryder shook his head, stunned by Erik's inability to see the truth. "Did you ever ask yourself where the money comes from? And why he's stopped giving it to anyone but himself?"

"He's the alpha."

"So you do anything he says? Even if it hurts your own family?"

Erik growled and came at Ryder, his fists swinging. "What do you know of family? Most of yours is dead and what's left you've dumped in a fucking nursing home. What do you know about our pack anymore? You haven't lived here in years."

Ryder stepped back, staying just out of reach. The nursing home comment stung. He should've come home when Mason forced Grandma Tillie into Crescent Pines, but he'd kept fighting instead, thinking she could wait. He'd believed Mason when he said she had dementia and needed more care than the pack could give her. That had been one of the biggest mistakes of his life and he would do everything in his power to make it up to his grandmother. "I know what makes a good alpha and Mason isn't it. My grandmother is in Crescent Pines because of his lies, not because I don't care about my family."