A Pack of Blood and Lies

CHAPTER 5

Dessert and digestives were being served on the spacious deck when I arrived. Flickering candles in giant hurricane holders cast eerie glows and moving shadows over the faces angled my way. Conversations halted. The only sound was the instrumental jazz whirring from hidden ceiling speakers.

Jeb shifted toward me, a tumbler of whiskey clutched between his fingers.

"Sorry I missed dinner," I said.

"You want to eat something?"

"I'll eat later."

He lowered his glass to his narrow hip, and the ice clinked. "Ness—"

"Please, Uncle. Don't tell me what to do."

"A month ago, you didn't want to come back here. You wanted nothing to do with the pack, and now you're vying for—for Alpha." He joggled his hand, and whiskey splashed out.

"Let me guess... I shouldn't compete, because I'm a girl, and according to you, girls are mangy little things."

Color crawled up his throat.

"I might've been weak when you kicked me out of Boulder, but I'm not anymore."

"Stop saying I kicked you out, will you?" he hissed.

"Well, it's true."

Through gritted teeth, he added, "It was to protect you."

I dropped my voice. "Because of what Heath did to Mom?"

White appeared around Jeb's iris rings.

Although people were near, they were too busy gossiping to listen to us. Or maybe they'd heard.

Like. I. Cared.

More whiskey dribbled along his wrist. "You—You—"

"Know about it? Yeah. Mom told me. I also know you didn't do shit about retaliating. Besides getting us to leave, that is. Better Mom not tempt your revered Alpha again, huh?"

At first, I'd believed the cancer had made Mom delirious, but then Everest had confirmed it during one of our late-night chats after Becca's attempted suicide. The confession came out almost at the same time as Mom's last breath. Once she'd untethered herself from the lurid secret, her soul slipped out of her body and left me to deal with the aftermath of the terrible truth.

I'd been angry with her. But then Evelyn reminded me anger was one of the stages of grief, so I allowed myself to feel angry. With Mom and with Heath. Where I'd forgiven my mother for not telling me, I hadn't forgiven Heath.

"So this—you entering the contest—it's a personal vendetta?" Jeb asked.

"Not only."

His Adam's apple bobbed. "Liam is not like his father."

Gosh, how many people were going to tell me that? I gave a sharp nod and went to find Everest. Crossing the deck was like walking past a firing squad. Even though the slanted gazes pricked, I raised my chin and pretended to be unaffected by the petty glares.

"I'd forgotten how friendly Coloradans were," I muttered once I reached my cousin by the stainless-steel drinks dispenser.

He poured coffee into a mug, then handed it to me. "Did Dad try to talk you out of it?"

"I didn't give him time to." I took a sip of the charred-tasting beverage. "He knows I know. About Mom."

The clink of metal against glass interrupted our quiet conversation.

The bushy-eyebrowed elder stood from his Adirondack. "Usually pack matters are discussed among the pack, but since the choice of Alpha affects all our lives, not only our fellow members but also our partners, we decided to discuss the subject with all of you. As you're all aware, Liam Kolane offered to replace his father as Alpha, but he's been challenged." The elder's gaze slid to me, but then it skittered toward the beefy blond next to Liam. "Matthew Rogers"—the elder tipped his head next toward the lanky boy with the mean white scar and mop of black hair—"and Lucas Mason have decided to go up against Heath's boy."