Page 3 of Brutal Reign (Shadowed Heirs #5)

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“ Y ou sure you don’t wanna play, Seb?” Eli asks, waving a Playstation controller at me tauntingly as Beau queues up another track on the street racing game.

I pointedly ignore him, watching Micah roll a joint in his lap as he rattles off the stats from earlier today. We’re posted up in the lounge above the recruit barracks, but the place is a ghost town. Most of the other squad recruits went straight to the barracks after dinner. A few found their way up here after a while, but those who’ve stuck around have been keeping a healthy distance from me and my friends, likely sensing the predator in their midst. And if they get too close, one glare is all it takes to get them to back the fuck up again.

“Nate Hines was the first to finish, you’ll wanna keep your eye on him,” Micah murmurs as his fingers work the thin paper. “He’s from Stillwater, I think he’s a distant cousin of Alpha Reid.”

I grind my molars as I watch him fumble with the roll, hating that Ace isn’t here. Not only do I feel like I’m missing a fucking limb without my best friend, but Micah can’t roll a joint for shit. They’re always too tight or too loose, never that perfect in-between that Ace manages to achieve every time.

“Bailey Monroe was the girl who came in second, but I heard her telling her bunkmate that she runs ten miles every day,” he continues, lifting the shitty excuse for a joint to his mouth and running his tongue along the edge of the paper to seal it. “So of course today was a walk in the park for her. Judging by her size, I’ll bet she sucks at sparring.”

Grunting in agreement, I shift my gaze to Beau and Eli planted on the couch opposite us. Both are intently focused on the huge flatscreen TV on the wall, mashing the buttons of the gaming controllers in their hands. They should be paying attention right now, not fucking around, but Ace isn’t here to knock their heads together and remind them to give a shit, and I don’t give enough of one to crash their party. Honestly, I’d rather join it.

“Some of the bigger guys came in later, but that’s to be expected,” Micah drones on.

This is what he’s good at- boring the fuck out of people with statistics. He should be working with his dad to track investment trends and keep our pack’s coffers padded, but since Ace decided to skip training camp, I think Micah felt obligated to fill in as my second. Even if he is a shitty substitute.

“Asher Fields and Kendrick Hall both have reputations of being beasts in hand-to-hand combat. And as for the girls, the ones to watch are Tillie Jacobs, Chandler Stetson, and even though she clearly can’t run for shit, Riv…”

I jerk my head around and Micah immediately snaps his mouth shut, eyes widening when they meet my icy glare. “I’m just sayin’, she’s got Alpha blood,” he mumbles, averting his gaze.

“Word on the street is that she’s gonna have the title, too,” Beau chimes in, still aggressively smashing the buttons of his controller.

I roll my eyes. I don’t know why people seem surprised that Theo’s passing the Alpha rank to his daughter. The writing’s been on the wall for years, since he doesn’t have a son to pass it down to. He told the six-pack council about his plans before he made the official announcement to his pack, and my dad told me. I responded to him like I always do anytime someone brings her up, by saying that I don’t care about River fucking Jacobsen.

It’s easier to choke out the lie than swallow the truth.

“Yeah, how’s that gonna work, anyway?” Eli asks, snorting a laugh. “Is her future mate gonna be a male Luna? I feel bad for the poor bastard who inherits that title”

“It’s not right,” Beau agrees.

“A female Alpha, or a male Luna?” Micah asks, brows knitting together.

Beau shrugs a shoulder. “Both.”

“Not our pack, not our problem,” I sigh, leaning over to snatch the joint from Micah’s hands.

He swings his gaze on me, eyes rounding in concern. “You’re not gonna spark that up in here, are you?”

“Why not?” I scoff, lifting it in front of my face to examine it. Too loose, it’ll burn like shit. I toss it back onto his lap. “What about that girl who was hanging with Riv? The one with the purple hair?”

“Think her name’s Hailey,” Eli supplies, gnawing on his lower lip as he fights to keep the lead in the race against Beau.

“Hayden,” Micah corrects. “Summervale pack, and yeah, she finished seventh.”

“She’s hot,” Beau remarks, whooping in victory as he slides into first place while Eli starts cussing him out.

“I hope you’re talking about me,” a feminine voice purrs.

I glance up to see the handsy blonde from earlier approaching, swinging her hips as she struts up to me. Her blue eyes sparkle with devious intent as she steps between my spread knees and drops into my lap. I promptly shove her off with the sweep of an arm, sending her sprawling sideways onto the couch cushions.

“What the hell?” she huffs, scrambling to sit up.

I slowly turn to look at her. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” I deadpan.

A flush creeps across her cheeks as she pushes herself upright, smoothing her long hair back. “Jeez, sorry. You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“That’s kinda his thing, sweetheart,” Beau chuckles, leaning forward to drop his gaming controller onto the coffee table. He licks his lips as he reclines back, stretching out his arms and cracking his knuckles. “You can come sit on my lap, though. I don’t bite.” He pats his thigh, beckoning her with a flick of his head.

She rolls her eyes, pursing her over-glossed lips and lifting her chin haughtily. “Sorry, you’re not my type.”

“ Please, I’m everyone’s type,” Beau scoffs, carding his fingers through his golden hair and flashing her a grin. He’s an arrogant bastard, but he’s not wrong. Since he’s packed on more muscle, girls fall all over themselves for his pretty-boy jock aesthetic.

“I like my guys taller,” she muses, lips curving into a smirk as she swings her gaze back on me.

Why the fuck is she still here?

I scrub a hand over my face, heaving a sigh. “Listen, Chelsey…”

“Chandler,” she corrects.

“Whatever. Like I said, we were…” I trail off as the lights flicker overhead, jerking my chin up to glare at the offending fixture. “The fuck was that?”

“Five minutes ‘til lights-out,” she quips.

“But it isn’t even fucking ten,” I growl.

“Training starts at seven a.m.,” Micah states, pushing up from the couch.

I toss my head back against the cushion behind me with an annoyed groan. I’ve never had a fucking bedtime in my life; my mom and dad believed in free-range parenting, and I took full advantage. It’s bad enough that I have to slum it in the barracks with the other recruits, but expecting me to abide by their bullshit rules is like a slap in the face. I’m an Alpha. I answer to no one .

“Here,” Micah offers, extending his shitty joint toward me.

I snatch it from his fingers, grunting as I shove up to my feet. If I’m gonna go to bed at ten like a fucking toddler, I’m at least gonna get stoned first. “See you guys in there,” I mutter, tucking the joint into the front pocket of my hoodie as I make my way toward the exit, leaving my friends and the thirsty-ass blonde behind.

This whole thing is fucked. I was actually looking forward to training camp until I saw her here.

No, not the blonde.

River fucking Jacobsen.

I’ve successfully avoided having any real interaction with her over the past three years, but now the ghosts of my past are apparently back to haunt me. She wasn’t supposed to be here, damnit.

Descending the stairs two at a time, I emerge into the barracks at the bottom, where most of the other recruits are already tucked up in their beds like good little soldiers. A few of them cast wary glances in my direction as I head down an aisle of bunks, eating up the distance to the locker room in long strides.

Being the tallest fucker in here definitely helps with the intimidation factor. Got my height from my old man. Some of the other Alphas come close, but I edge out even the tallest of them by a couple inches.

I could walk right out the main door of the barracks, but some try-hard squad fighter is probably waiting out there to make sure everyone’s in their bunks by lights-out, and I’m not in the mood to deal with any pushback about breaking these moronic rules they have in place. Cutting through the locker room into the squad dorms will save me the hassle of putting a random pleb in their place.

The lights flicker in warning again as I approach the door to the locker room, shoving it open and striding through. As soon as I do, I nearly collide with someone, jaw clenching when I realize it’s the hazel-eyed brunette I’ve been trying to avoid since I got here.

“Seb,” she breathes, blinking up at me through the lenses of her glasses. River has always been embarrassed about the genetic abnormality she inherited from her mom. Most shifters have perfect vision thanks to the whole rapid healing thing, but she has to wear contact lenses to correct hers. Probably why she waited until lights-out to make the switch; she rarely lets anyone see her in her glasses.

I look down my nose at her, my upper lip curling back from my teeth in a snarl. “Are you lost? I thought IT geeks got to move straight into the dorms.”

She frowns, rocking back a step. “Not lost, and not an IT geek.”

I reach over to flick the edge of her glasses tauntingly. “You sure about that?”

“Get out of my way, Seb,” she grumbles, ducking sideways to shoulder-barge past me.

Rather than letting her, I move to block her path. “Since when do you want to be a squad warrior?” I grit out.

She steps back, her gaze snapping up to meet mine as she folds her arms under her boobs. “Since it’s my damn birthright.”

I can’t help the way my eyes immediately drop to her cleavage, her crossed arms pushing her already perky tits up even higher. The thin white tank top she’s wearing doesn’t leave much to the imagination, the hard buds of her nipples poking at the fabric tauntingly and prompting my dick to wake the fuck up and take notice.

“You should leave,” I growl as my gaze climbs back up to hers.

“I’m trying to, asshole.”

River attempts to duck past me again, but I move with her, keeping my body between hers and the exit door. I don’t even know why I do it.

She jerks her chin up, cutting me another glare as I reach out to finger a strand of her hair, reveling in the way her breathing increases in tempo. It’s laced with fear, but she doesn’t let it show on her face. She’s always put on a tough front.

“I mean training camp,” I murmur, trying to ignore my body’s reaction to her scent as it registers.

River doesn’t smell all flowery and shit like most girls. She smells like pine and that damn strawberry chapstick she’s always applying, with a faint hint of motor oil.

She smells like bad decisions I can’t afford to make.

“This isn’t a place for a nice girl like you,” I warn, biting out every syllable.

She makes a scoffing sound in her throat, tossing her hair back. “I’m not a nice girl anymore.”

My eyes flicker over her tight little body, lingering on the valleys above her delicate collarbones and the swell of her breasts. They’ve gotten bigger. I follow the column of her throat up to meet her hazel eyes again, the corner of my mouth ticking up in challenge. “Care to prove it?”

The overhead lights abruptly shut off, the dim wall sconces around the interior of the locker room illuminating instead. River’s breath catches, and the sound of it makes my dick instantly hard.

The door from the barracks swings open behind us, Chandler’s annoyingly high-pitched voice cutting through the white noise in my head. “Am I interrupting something?”

Fuck.

“Nah, babe,” I drawl, reaching up to card my fingers through my hair as I pivot to face her. I shouldn’t be giving this blonde bitch the time of day, but shit, that was close. Too close.

Chandler’s lips spread into a bright smile as she advances in my direction, River seizing the opening to hightail it out of here. She ducks around Chandler, slipping through the door before it can swing closed.

“You heading out to smoke?” Chandler asks, crowding into my space and dancing her fingers up my chest. She tilts her head sweetly, batting her lashes. “Want some company?”

“No,” I reply flatly as I shove her away, wrinkling my nose. She reeks of cheap perfume and desperation.

Her expression falls, but I can’t find it in me to care. Instead, I just toss my hood up over my head, pivoting away from her and heading for the door on the opposite end of the locker room.

Pushing through into the hallway for the lower floor of the squad dorms, I make my way down the corridor with angry strides, grinding my molars the whole way. It isn’t until I’ve reached the main doors of the complex and shoved through them that I feel like I can even take a damn breath, stuffing a hand into the pocket of my jeans and yanking my phone out.

I’m not concerned about getting caught outside after lights-out. If any of the squad fighters see me loitering out here on the practice field, one look will send them running scared, and the majority of the squad leaders reside at their respective packhouses. As far as I’m concerned, they can take their idiotic rules and shove ‘em.

I pace a few steps away from the doors before leaning back to rest against the building, bringing my phone up in front of me with the intention of sending a message to Ace. But he’s two steps ahead like always, a text from him already waiting.

Ace

How was day one?

I blow out a long breath as I open up the thread to reply.

It doesn’t feel right being here without him; we always planned on joining the security squad together someday. I was disappointed when he decided to pursue tattoo artistry instead, but I didn’t raise any objections. I thought I’d be fine.

I guess I didn’t realize how much I’ve come to rely on having him by my side. I’m sure every Alpha’s like that with their Beta– our dads are always together, too.

I thumb out a response to his message and hit send.

Dumb. They cut four people out the gate, though.

His reply is instant.

Nice

My thumbs hover over my phone screen as I hesitate, wondering if I should tell him about River. Then I remember why we made the agreement about her in the first place, deciding it’d be reckless not to.

Riv’s here.

I hold my breath as I await his reply, eyes transfixed on the little grey bubbles moving on my phone screen to indicate he’s typing.

What? Why?

My thumbs fly over the letters to respond.

Claiming her spot in squad leadership, I guess. Sure you don’t wanna change your mind and sub in for Micah?

Again, his response is almost instant.

Be there tomorrow.