Page 2 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

T WO WEEKS AFTER THE horrific intrapack battle that had finally wrested control of the Sunburst Pack out of Vincent Foley’s cruel, power-hungry paws, Malcolm pulled his truck up to a small adobe house in the town of Sunburst, New Mexico.

He stepped out of his truck, surveying the house his friends Sarah and Nick had chosen, with its welcoming front porch and the promise of new beginnings.

Malcolm’s nostrils flared slightly, picking up the familiar scents of the pack.

“Perfect for a fresh start,” he murmured approvingly, a warm breeze ruffling through his short dark hair.

He’d do everything in his power to help ensure that fresh start led to a stronger, better pack.

He was reaching for a box marked “kitchen” in the back of his truck when an unexpected figure emerged from the house, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

“Hey,” Larissa said, her tone neutral—and yet somehow still tinged with the undercurrent of their ever-present rivalry. She leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Didn’t expect you here today,” Malcolm said, his eyes narrowing slightly. Larissa’s presence could either be a boon or another hurdle in his quest to strengthen the pack’s bonds.

“Early bird,” she said with a shrug, pushing off from the doorway and moving toward him.

At the same time, they reached for the heaviest of boxes, their movements oddly synchronized.

“Actually,” Malcolm suggested, “let’s get that furniture first.”

“Sure,” Larissa said, easily jumping into the bed of the truck to maneuver a hefty wardrobe when Malcolm popped open the tailgate. Without a word, Malcolm stepped up to help carry it up the walkway and into the house, Larissa moving backward.

Despite himself, Malcolm admired Larissa’s strength and efficiency as she navigated through the narrow hallway.

“Your form’s improved since pack school,” he observed.

“Some of us evolved past brute force,” she replied, adjusting her grip. “Remember when you couldn’t even lift the training weights?”

“I was seven.” He moved to help guide the wardrobe around a corner. “And as I recall, you couldn’t reach the pull-up bar.”

“Until I figured out I could use your head as a step stool.” Their gazes met over the wardrobe, glinting with shared amusement at the memory.

“My nose has never been the same.”

“Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Larissa clamped it shut as if to keep from saying more.

Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up. “Careful, Larissa. That almost sounded like flirting.”

Not that she’s ever flirted with me. Malcolm scowled at the thought.

“Tactical distraction,” she said, but her cheeks flushed slightly. “Like when I used to challenge you to races so you’d miss the strategy lessons.”

“Is that what you were doing? And here I thought you just enjoyed watching me run.”

“You wish.” She made her way into the bedroom. “Though, you did provide an excellent example of what not to do.”

“Says the girl who tracked a rabbit straight into a cactus patch our first hunt.”

“Ancient history.” But her lips twitched. “Besides, you followed me in.”

“Someone had to make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

Suddenly, the playful moment was no longer light but instead became…

charged somehow. Larissa broke eye contact first, setting down the wardrobe in the master bedroom with a thud that echoed off the bare walls as Malcolm tipped his end up and steadied the furniture piece until he could step away from it.

“Good spot?” he asked as he straightened his back, feeling the slight strain of exertion.

“I think it works,” Larissa said. “We can move it later if Sarah doesn’t like it.” She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “We should get the rest of the boxes.”

“Always running away,” Malcolm murmured.

“Not running,” she corrected. “A tactical retreat. Remember Ms. Everett’s first lesson?”

“‘A good leader knows when to advance and when to withdraw,’” they quoted in unison, then shared a surprised laugh.

“Hey, guys.” As their packmate Conall stuck his head into the room, Larissa glanced away from Malcolm.

What was that conversation about? Malcolm wondered. And more to the point, why had he participated in it? Flirting with Larissa had no place in his plans.

And she sure as hell wasn’t why he’d loaded up his truck bed with furniture and boxes.

For that matter, as much as he cared about Nick and Sarah, they weren’t the reason for his presence here either—not entirely, anyway.

Malcolm’s fingers flexed. This was more than just helping friends move; it was about solidifying his place, his future leadership.

“Come help me get this sofa,” Conall’s twin, Quinton, called from down the hall, and Conall bounded away.

“Let’s keep this pace,” Malcolm suggested to Larissa as he headed back to his truck for the next load.

“Race you,” Larissa said.

“Game on,” he accepted with a half grin, knowing that despite everything, Larissa would push him to be better. To be a true alpha.

They darted back and forth, carrying boxes labeled with scribbled contents and pieces of furniture that held memories and promises.

Sweat beaded on Malcolm’s forehead, his muscles rippling under the strain—but each item they placed inside the house was a step closer to reuniting the pack, to healing old wounds.

It made him feel… alive .

Still, he needed to talk to Nick about his plans.

“Finish unloading the truck,” he instructed Larissa absently before heading to the kitchen, where he’d last seen Nick.

“I’m not your—” she began, her voice fading out as he made his way through the house.

“Hey, Nick,” he said. “I want to talk to you about the pack.”

Nick, who had been arranging kitchenware with meticulous attention, paused and looked up. “Sure. We’re all in this together.”

“Exactly,” Malcolm agreed, nodding. “We can’t afford any weak links. The Sunburst Pack has to stand united if we’re going to survive. And that starts with strong leadership.”

From behind him, a voice drew his attention. “Strong leadership, or just a strong leader?”

Malcolm turned. Larissa now stood in the doorway.

“Because leadership is more than just strength,” she continued, stepping closer. The movement was fluid, like a predator closing in, her gaze never leaving Malcolm’s. “After all, we’ve had a strong leader. He nearly destroyed us.”

“So what do you suggest?” he asked.

“I think that perhaps it’s time the Sunburst Pack considered a woman as alpha.”

Nick snorted, and Larissa shot a glare at him. “You think it’s laughable?”

Raising his hands in a motion of surrender, Nick headed toward the door Larissa had just vacated. “Not at all. But what I do think is that…” He waved one hand back and forth, pointing between Larissa and Malcolm. “…I’m staying the hell out of this discussion.”

With that, he slipped out of the room, his deep chuckle fading away down the hall.

Malcolm frowned at Larissa.

A woman as alpha?

The thought had never crossed his mind before.

“An interesting proposition,” he said, his voice betraying none of his internal conflict. “But is the pack ready for such a change?”

“Change is what we need,” Larissa shot back. “Fresh perspectives, new ideas.”

Malcolm’s pulse quickened as he realized Larissa wasn’t just challenging his plans—she was challenging him.

Again.

As usual.

Yet there was no denying the thread of truth in her argument. Could a female alpha be the catalyst for the healing the Sunburst Pack so desperately needed?

Larissa took his silence as an opening to press her advantage.

Damn her. She had never given him time to think things through.

“Female alphas in other packs are doing amazing things. They could guide a new alpha here.”

“Guidance?” Malcolm asked. “Our pack doesn’t need hand-holding. We need decisive action. You know as well as I do that experience and careful planning are what will pull us through.”

Larissa’s lips pressed into a thin line. But Malcolm didn’t back down. He had fought tooth and claw to protect his pack before—he could do so again.

So has Larissa , a quiet inner voice reminded him.

No. Malcolm would be alpha. Not just because he craved it, but because he believed, with every fiber of his being, that he was the one who could shepherd the Sunburst Pack into a new era.

“Besides,” Larissa continued, “the pack might benefit from a leader who can unite, not just defend.”

“Defending is uniting,” Malcolm countered, his voice rising. “It’s ensuring our survival.”

“Fresh ideas,” she insisted, “that’s what we need. A female alpha could offer a new perspective, one that might solve problems you haven’t even considered.”

He bristled at the suggestion, his muscles tensing as though preparing for a physical challenge. “And what problems are those?”

“Empathy, for one,” Larissa said. “Understanding the needs of each member of the pack, not just the strongest fighters. We’ve lost too much to continue on the same path.”

Malcolm’s jaw clenched, a low, rumbling growl building inside him. He was protective by nature, every inch the alpha his pack needed. But Larissa’s words struck deeper than he cared to admit.

“Empathy doesn’t win battles,” he argued. “Strategy does. Strength does.”

“Strength isn’t just about physical strength.” Larissa moved closer, her simple proximity a challenge. “It’s about adaptation, growth. We’re shapeshifters—change is in our nature.”

Malcolm’s competitive tendencies, always simmering beneath the surface, flared up as he faced off with Larissa.

He would not yield.

Not when the future of the pack was at stake.

“Change for the sake of change is reckless,” he said sharply. “I won’t stand by and watch our traditions crumble because you think it’s time for a revolution.”

“We already had a revolution,” she said, her tone dismissive. “This would be evolution. We’re at a crossroads. This is our chance to rebuild stronger, smarter.”

“Smarter doesn’t always mean better,” he snapped, the sound of their heated exchange echoing off the walls of the sparsely furnished house. “We need a leader who knows the old ways, who can guide us through these times with a steady hand.”

“Or maybe,” Larissa said, “we need someone who can see beyond the old ways, someone who dares to imagine a future where strength and compassion coexist.”

Malcolm took a step forward, the gap between them crackling with their long-standing rivalry.

“Strong leadership doesn’t—” Malcolm began, but his words were cut short by the sudden creak of the door swinging open.

“Enough.” Nick stepped into the room. “This isn’t helping anyone. We need to pull together, not apart.”

Larissa and Malcolm exchanged guilty glances. This wasn’t the first time their bickering had made someone uncomfortable.

“Nick’s right,” Malcolm conceded. “We have bigger problems than our different visions for the pack right now.”

Larissa’s lips pressed into a thin line, but her expression softened as she conceded to the momentary peace. “Fine,” she relented. “For the sake of the pack, we’ll table this…for now.”

“Good,” Nick said, nodding with approval. “We’ve all lost too much to let pride divide us further.”

Right. This was Nick’s home. His sanctuary.

Not the place for Malcolm’s lifelong rivalry with Larissa to break out into the open.

“Let’s get back to work, then,” Malcolm suggested, working to keep his voice amiable. He picked up a heavy box and headed to the living room.

An hour later, Larissa was across the room, slicing through tape and opening boxes. Her movements were controlled, each gesture measured and deliberate as she glanced up at him.

But Malcolm knew better than to be fooled by her calm exterior.

The expression in her gaze told him everything he needed to know—it was the same look she’d given him countless times before: on the training field, during pack debates, in every challenge they’d ever faced together.

And now, as she unpacked a set of gleaming knives, that familiar spark shone bright.

The realization struck him like a claw swipe to the chest.

She didn’t want just any woman to be alpha. Larissa wanted to be alpha.

She was going to challenge him for leadership of the Sunburst Pack.

Malcolm’s jaw clenched.

Not this time.

This was not merely a contest for rank; it was a battle for the soul of their pack. Malcolm would not stand aside and let Larissa claim what was his right.

His fingertips grazed the scars on his arms. He was the stronger fighter, a seasoned warrior who had bled for his pack.

“Need help with those?” he asked, his tone even but his gaze never leaving Larissa as she moved on to another box.

“No, I’ve got it,” she said, not missing a beat. Her voice was steady, but Malcolm detected the underlying edge—a blade hidden within velvet.

He nodded, acknowledging her response while his mind raced.

As alpha, he would lead with strength and honor. He would protect the pack from any threat, internal or external.

As Malcolm resumed unpacking, his actions were swift, a flurry of motion that mirrored the quickened pace of his thoughts.

He would need to be wily if he was going to outmaneuver Larissa. She might be a skilled tactician, but Malcolm had his own advantages. He would use them all if necessary.

“Mal, you okay?” Nick asked a moment later.

“I’m fine,” Malcolm grunted. “Just thinking about the future of the pack.”

Nick studied him. “We’ll all figure it out. Together.”

But Malcolm was once again watching Larissa as she effortlessly lifted a heavy side table and placed it by the window.

Together?

No , he thought.

This was a path he would walk alone. For the sake of the pack, Malcolm would face down any challenge.

Even if it meant standing against Larissa.

His decision was made.

Malcolm would be alpha. He would lead his pack for many years to come.

Not Larissa.

Not now, not ever.