Page 12 of Claimed By the Rival Alpha

NIGHT

Dom and I walked through one of the village boroughs, and I took in the activity of my pack.

Before I had taken over, there were much fewer cabins, and interactions between pack members were tense and unfriendly because their Alpha wasn’t doing his job.

After I took control, I set the pack on a course to a new order.

I galvanized the community and rebuilt the cabins that had fallen into disrepair…

and the cabins that had been razed to the ground during the Kings’ violent raid a decade ago—a raid that had resulted in the deaths of many Wargs, including Dom’s siblings.

I had poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into the land and the community, and I was proud of what we had built together. But there were still so many things we needed to do—and resources that we didn’t have access to because of the Kings. The pack was growing, and we needed more.

I had planned to bring just a handful of my men along for this mission.

Our goal wasn’t to attack the entire pack, so I didn’t think I would need more than my beta and a couple of other hunters to back me up.

But when the rest of my pack heard of my intention to challenge Troy, they refused to let me go without a small army.

After hearing the news that there were dozens of fighters—men and women—who wanted to join me on the mission to take over the Kings’ pack, I turned to my beta.

“Do they think I can’t win?” I asked in a low voice.

“Actually, they just care about you,” Dom replied. “Even if you do win, they’re worried that the Kings will attack and kill you if you don’t have enough people with you.

I scoffed. “The Kings would be welcome to try.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised to hear you say that, Night, but that’s probably just your ego and your restless wolf talking.”

I sighed, knowing he was probably right. I was eager to reclaim my birthright to help my pack. “I’m still not sure if having a big team with us is best,” I said. “If stealth is key, the smaller the group, the better.”

“We trained this group ourselves, so you know they can be discreet.”

That was also true. I knew I could trust my hunters to do their jobs well, but there was another downside to bringing along such a large number; there was a greater risk for injury if things went south. I wasn’t willing to put the lives of my pack at risk without reason.

We stopped walking as we reached the training grounds next to the Elders’ cabin.

Training had ended hours ago, and now there were pups rolling around and wrestling in the circle instead.

Some of their parents were hunters who might accompany me on this attack.

If the worst happened, I would have to look into the eyes of a crying child and tell them that their father or mother wouldn’t be coming home.

As if to emphasize that point, the ball that the pups were playing with rolled into my path. One of the children, a little girl who must have been five or six, rushed over to grab it.

“Sorry, Alpha, sir,” she said in a small, gentle voice.

I smiled. I remembered being her age and growing up under Peter’s rule. Back then, children were to be seen and not heard, and if we were ever in Peter’s way, we were shamed for it.

“No worries, little one.” I kicked the ball gently back to her. “Have fun.”

She gave me a wide grin, revealing small—yet sharp—teeth, and then returned to her game.

“Night,” Dom pulled my attention away from the playing children, “I get you’re worried, but I don’t think they’ll let you do this without all the protection you can get. You’ve done a lot for the Wargs since you took over, so let them pay you back.”

I sighed again. I saw Dom’s point, and I knew my hunters would jump at any chance to make the Wargs pack stronger while also taking down the Kings and ending their reign of the Kaniksu National Forest area.

Two days after that conversation, I found myself with my shoulder pressed against the thick trunk of a Douglas fir tree.

The needles rustled in the breeze above my head as if nature itself was as anxious to be through with all of this as I was.

My thoughts pulsed and thrummed along with the beat of my heart as I waited for the sun to set.

Only a few yards away lay the border of the Kings’ territory.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of the land.

The Kings’ territory smelled much sweeter than the Wargs’—no doubt because the Kootenai River made the ground so rich and lush.

The abundance of resources that the Kings’ pack had was enough to make any Alpha jealous.

But it wasn’t jealousy that had me clenching my teeth—I hardly cared about any of that—it was the way the Redwolfs ran their pack, the way they flaunted the land that was rightfully mine.

It was the fact that Gregor Redwolf was my father, and yet he’d abandoned me to take control over a more successful pack rather than fix the mistakes he made with the Wargs.

The Kings’ pack wolves enjoyed the fourth day of celebration with feasts and dances.

Unmated women in flashy, skintight costumes and makeup flitted around the males.

They gorged themselves on alcohol and a variety of meat, some of which was obviously purchased from humans.

They laughed and clapped and gyrated, a display of hedonism that only the very wealthy and very fortunate could afford.

Their compound was lit not with torches but with electric light generated by the solar panels installed on the southeast side.

The luxuries were endless, flashy, and grotesque.

Bottles, cans, and food wrappers littered the ground like toxic confetti.

Adding to my distaste, I had seen the way that women were treated at these gatherings.

They were made to stand at the side, to be less rowdy, to be all dressed up.

These sorts of celebrations were much too intense to have children in attendance, and there were no older wolves mingling with the younger ones.

This was purely a celebration of masculinity, of testosterone, before the males would pick out their lover for the night.

My hands clenched tight. Sexism, hedonism, and their clear lack of respect for the land they partied on—they squandered what was rightfully mine.

My anger burned in my chest, but I had to acknowledge that even the Wargs had once been similar.

Before I took over as Alpha, the women of the pack were treated almost like prisoners, unable to go off on their own without a chaperone or mate.

Unmated women were coveted, competed for, and won as prizes.

Rarely could they choose their own mate, and there were no protections for them if their mate ever chose to abandon them.

That was why Gregor had been able to abandon Mom and me without any repercussions.

Gregor hadn’t been a good pack leader of the Wargs.

Under Craig, Gregor’s father, the Wargs were thriving.

We weren’t the ruling pack, but we were well on our way to becoming so.

Unfortunately, that progress stagnated and even regressed after Craig died and Gregor became Alpha.

Gregor’s short temper, arrogance, and outdated views on women made him a poor leader.

The Wargs didn’t respect him, and instead of trying to repair that relationship with his pack, he abandoned everyone.

He left the Wargs weakened, and when the next Alpha took over, a scummy wolf named Peter who had no idea how to lead, things became even worse for everyone.

I challenged Peter as soon as I was strong enough and then performed a massive overhaul of the social hierarchy of the pack.

I made things equal between the sexes, and if ever there were cases of domestic violence, the perpetrator was swiftly and severely dealt with.

Though the Kings’ pack weren’t quite as ass-backward as the Wargs once were, it was clear they still hadn’t figured out how to put female wolves on equal footing as the males.

And they dare to call us primitive.

I spotted Troy walking with a blonde woman across the courtyard.

They laughed and chatted with each other, totally unaware that they were being watched.

My knuckles popped when I clenched my hand.

Good. He should enjoy himself while he can.

My victory will be even sweeter when I step out to challenge him.

I can’t wait to beat that smirk right off his face.

We had all arrived earlier that day. I had sent a few scouts to case out the area and to find out if anyone had stepped up to challenge Troy. Apparently, no one had, which suited my plans perfectly.

Branches crunched softly under Dom’s feet as he walked to the other side of the fir’s trunk. Dom could have moved silently, but to avoid startling me, he purposefully made a bit of noise to announce his presence. I gave him a grateful nod and continued to survey the Kings’ pack.

Because of the celebration, Troy didn’t have any hunters keeping an eye on their borders, so it was absurdly easy for us to surround the compound.

That sort of laziness and arrogance was exactly what I expected from a Redwolf.

Though I was away from my territory, I knew that my pack continued to run smoothly.

I had hunters and sentries guarding the perimeter of our compound without even having to tell them to do it.

Clearly Gregor, and likely Troy too, had become complacent in their luxury—in their dominance.

They no longer considered any of the other packs in the area a threat.

And that arrogance would work perfectly into our plans.