Page 181 of Claimed By the Rival Alpha

“Oh, sure. I’ll see you downstairs.” As soon as I stopped speaking, he was out the door. I pressed a hand to my heart, hurt gathering around the beating organ. Had I done something wrong again? Hurt his feelings in some way I hadn’t realized? I had to ask him.

It took only a couple of minutes for me to pull on a pair of jeans and a blouse before heading downstairs.

“Night,” I called as I reached the main floor landing.

“I feel like there’s something else we should talk about…

” I trailed off when I found him in the living room with Dom, Tavi, and a person I’d never met before.

The stranger was tall and lanky, his body corded with lean muscle.

His curly blond hair hung down to the middle of his back, but I’d bet if I touched one of those curls and pulled, his hair would be even longer.

This man didn’t smell like pack. Instead, his floral scent was laced with the musk of sweat.

He had been running far, and his anxiety was palpable enough to make the room tense and somber. Immediately, I was on guard.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“That’s what I want to know,” Night said. “It’s not every day I see a member of the Camas Pack on my territory.”

My eyebrows raised. The Kings hadn’t had contact with the Camas for at least as long as I’d been alive. And as far as I knew, the Camas had avoided the Wargs because of the rumors that they were borderline feral.

Dom spoke first. “Tavi and I were with our team, investigating the coordinates, when River came to us.” He nodded to the stranger. “He’s a messenger from the Camas Pack.”

“What is your message?” I asked River.

He winced and looked away from me instead of responding. My eyebrows scrunched together, and I looked at Night, who seemed just as confused by his reaction.

“Answer the question.” Night’s voice was stern, full of authority.

This time, River answered right away. “We were attacked, Alpha Shepherd.”

Night’s eyes flashed with surprise, then rage. “By who?”

“A pack of ferals infiltrated our borders and wreaked havoc through our territory. They injured many of us, including our alpha’s mates, but we don’t have the resources to take care of them. We need your help.”

Shock and fury shot through me. This had Troy’s name written all over it. “Tavi.” I turned to her. “Ask Dr. Stan if he has doctors to spare. They need to bring bandages, salves, blankets, and anything else they think we’ll need. When they’re ready, have them meet us on Camas Pack territory.”

She nodded. “On it, Bryn.”

As she jogged out of the cabin, I looked at Night and Dom. “In the meantime, we should all head out there. I want eyes on the state of things.”

Night touched my shoulder. “Wait, Bryn, maybe you should let us handle this. We can give you a report after.”

I shook my head vehemently. “Not a chance. As den mother, I need to be there for the injured, for the women and children who need help.” Healing, nurturing, watching out for those who needed help—that was my domain, not Night’s. And he couldn’t say otherwise.

He seemed to realize as much. He nodded at me, smiling slightly. “You’re right, love. Okay, let’s head out.”

Within an hour, we’d gathered those we needed—among them were Frankie, Violet, and Lance—and reached the Camas lands. It was nearing the afternoon now, and the sun was high in the sky, revealing the extent of the damage the Camas Pack had endured.

Their lands were in disarray. Some of their buildings had been set on fire, the stench of charred wood and fabric lingering in the air.

Children and women huddled together in small groups, shaking in the aftermath of the attack.

There were tracks leading in all directions; it was impossible to tell if the attack had come from one direction or several.

“Thank you for coming, Alpha Shepherd.” I recognized the Camas alpha from pictures in the books I’d studied in school.

His name was Oakley, and he was the oldest alpha in the area.

He would be in his sixties, but he didn’t look more than forty.

The only indication of his age was his long white hair, which he kept in a braid that hung down to his lower back.

At his side was a man around his age, only his hair was gray, wavy, and gathered over his shoulder in several braids. His beard was an even darker shade of gray and reached his chest. He was Birchen, Oakley’s beta.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Alpha Shepherd,” Oakley said, bowing his head slightly. “I wish we were receiving you under better circumstances.”

Night nodded. “Tell us what’s happened, Alpha.”

Oakley and Birchen glanced at me, Tavi, and a few of the other women we’d brought along. Neither of them answered for a few seconds, as if they were waiting for us to do something. What the hell was up with that?

“We were attacked by ferals,” Oakley said finally. “They came for us while we slept and nearly destroyed our buildings.”

“Is this all your injured?” I asked, gesturing toward the groups of people huddled together.

Neither Oakley nor Birchen looked at me.

They shifted from foot to foot. That was when I understood their hesitance.

The Camas Pack was traditional to a fault.

They were peaceful, but their women weren’t seen as equal to the men.

It was unheard of for a woman to ask them any direct questions or take charge.

They probably didn’t want to speak about the damage they had suffered around us.

This annoyed me to no end, but now wasn’t the time to talk about how outdated and wrong their thinking was. These people needed our help, and we’d wasted enough time as it was. Without asking another question, I nodded to those who had come to heal, and we split off from Night’s team.

“And I thought the Kings were backwards,” Tavi spoke through our bond. “It’s so weird here.”

“I know. Let’s just do what we can.”

We went to one of the huddled groups. They peered up at us, desperate, wary eyes trying to assess if we were going to hurt them. I crouched down.

“Let us help you,” I said gently. “We’ve brought plenty of supplies.”

The group began to perk up as they realized that we’d brought resources. We went around, soothing the sick, bandaging injuries, and giving pain medication to those who needed it.

The women were dressed in long linen dresses that covered most of their skin.

Other than the fact that they were shaking and huddled together for comfort, most of them seemed fine.

Tavi and I and the doctors began to treat them, spraying antiseptic on their wounds and bandaging them.

As it turned out, the Camas already had plenty of medical supplies, so we didn’t have to worry about running out.

That would have been the case for all our supplies aside from the salves. We needed more herbs, and if I was right, there should be a bunch of what we needed growing somewhere in the forest surrounding Camas territory. I was thinking about this while treating Mulberry’s arm.

As I finished coating her wound with the last of the jars I had on me, I asked, “Do you know where we can find some echinacea?”

“Yes, it grows a few miles from here,” she replied. “We can lead you to some.”

“That’s great. We’ll need to bring a few more bodies to grab as much of that as we need.”

She nodded because she understood. “I volunteer to go. My arm isn’t so injured that I can’t gather some herbs.”

I nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that. Anyone else want to come with us?”

They glanced at each other, then slowly raised their hands. Nine of them agreed to come along, more than enough to grab what we needed.

“You stay with the others,” I spoke to Tavi through our bond.

“You sure?” she replied.

“Yeah. This shouldn’t take too long.”

We walked for a little while. They took me deep into the forest, so deep it felt like the trees were pressing in on us. I glanced behind me, but the Camas lands were nowhere in sight.

I tapped Mulberry’s shoulder. “The echinacea is this far out?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”

I nodded. It felt like we were isolating ourselves from the others, but I tried to push away the worry that filled my chest. There were ten of us, after all. There was security in numbers.

They led me to a crop of echinacea. The vibrant magenta of the petals told me they would be good for combatting infections. I bent to gather them.

I’d collected an armful of the flowers when a stillness fell over the group.

I raised my head, and that’s when I saw it—a wolf with mangy, dark fur coated in dust. The minute I looked into its venom-yellow eyes, I knew it was feral.

It was impossible to tell if this was one of Troy’s or just a normal feral who’d wandered into Camas territory.

Either way, it was hungry and desperate.

“Be quiet and don’t make any sudden movements,” I told them. “There are a lot of us, so if we stand our ground, we’ll be able to force it—”

One of the women screamed, and the shrillness of the sound caused the feral to shake its head.

I wasn’t sure who had screamed, but it didn’t matter.

It leveled its gaze on us and growled, seconds away from attacking.

I turned to the women and saw how they trembled in the face of this wolf.

Though I was right that strength in numbers ought to make the feral run away, I realized five things at once: I wasn’t trained, these women wouldn’t be able to help me, I couldn’t force them to help me because I had no authority over them; even if I did make them help me, that would only worsen their trauma and potentially get them hurt, and finally, I had to defend them on my own.

“Get away from here!” I called. “Go home! Get help!”

Screaming, they scattered, and confusion filled the feral’s eyes.

It wasn’t sure which woman to go after first, but I wouldn’t give it the chance to find a target.

I shifted and automatically let my wolf take control.

She took advantage of its uncertainty to slam into it, shoving it into one of the trees.

It yelped as it bounced off the trunks. My wolf didn’t let up—she bore down on it, going for the throat, wanting to end this quickly.

But the feral hopped to its paws just in time.

It was much bigger than I’d thought, towering over my wolf form.

It might have been as big as Night’s wolf or even larger.

Teeth coated in saliva and flashing white in the sun went for my flank.

I tried to hop away, but it was too fast, too desperate.

It got hold of fur and muscle and bit down, ripping out a chunk of fur.

I felt my wolf’s rage as powerfully as I felt my own.

She rushed again, tackling it. It gnashed its jaws, blood and saliva splattering across my fur.

My wolf kept it on its back and avoided those teeth, and when there was an opening, she dived down with deadly intent.

Taking hold of the feral’s throat, I bit hard at its windpipe.

The feral held out for a little while, kicking at me, but the fight quickly drained from it as the air left its lungs.

In seconds, it lay still. I was more in control of my wolf again and let go of the dead feral’s throat.

I felt real remorse as I stared down at it.

Could I have prevented its death? Would I have avoided having to kill it if not for the fact that I’d believed in strength in numbers, only for tradition to undercut me?

I was so foolish, so short-sighted. And now a wolf was dead.

It was only the second time that I had blood on my tongue, and I hated its metallic tang almost as much as I hated the act of killing.

I started walking back to the camp but stumbled to the side, almost bumping into one of the trees.

I tried to keep going, but my body wouldn’t obey me.

I glanced back at my leg. It was coated in more of the thick, sticky crimson.

Only, this was my blood. My vision blurred as I realized far too much of it was leaking out of me.

I stumbled again, but I couldn’t catch myself. Panting, I fell to my side.

Panic flooded through my veins. Some part of my brain was firing nothing but negativity—I was dying, my baby and I wouldn’t live past an hour—but that fear felt somehow separate from the rest of me.

Numbness—from shock? From blood loss?—kept me detached from the pain and the worst of the thoughts, but pain would have been better than the floaty sensation taking hold of my body.

“Bryn!”

I recognized that voice. I gave a weak moan in response, but I doubted whoever was calling to me could hear it.

I tried to look for the speaker, and soon, a familiar large form headed my way.

Night…? Through my blurry gaze, I thought for sure it was my mate, but as it drew closer, I realized it was, in fact, Lance.

Confusion and some measure of disappointment began to fill my weakening body as he crouched beside me, but I didn’t have time to analyze it.

“Bryn, hold on! I’ll save you…!”

His voice sounded like it was coming from a ways away, not right next to me. I let out a quiet breath, and my eyes slipped closed. Soon, he and the forest and the confusion vanished.