Page 31 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

Gregory’s expression flickered—a tell that confirmed Larissa’s guess had been good. “It doesn’t matter,” Vincent’s former enforcer snarled. “We don’t need other packs. We have other…resources.”

On cue, the mercenaries emerged from hiding. Human fighters, armed with silver-tipped weapons—a direct violation of pack law.

As the mercenaries emerged from the shadows, Malcolm caught sight of movement near the edge of the mesa.

His heart clenched as he recognized Zane and Patrick—the wolves who had been guarding Hannah and Gregory—being half carried toward the gathering by other pack members.

Both guards were alive but clearly injured, silver burns marking their exposed skin where the mercenaries had subdued them.

The acrid scent of silver poisoning made Malcolm’s nostrils flare with rage.

“They ambushed us,” Theo managed to gasp out as Anders rushed to help them. “Six of them. They had silver chains and knew exactly how to use them.” His voice was rough with pain and shame. “We never had a chance to sound the alarm.”

Gasps and growls erupted from the gathered wolves.

Malcolm exchanged a dark look with Larissa.

Using silver weapons against wolves was bad enough, but the calculated way the mercenaries had taken down their guards showed this had been carefully planned.

Hannah and Gregory hadn’t just broken pack law—they’d brought humans who knew exactly how to hurt wolves into the heart of pack territory.

Beside him, Larissa worked through scenarios, even as Malcolm’s own combat instincts assessed threats and angles. “So this is your grand plan?” he asked, letting contempt color his voice. “Mercenaries? Did you really think humans with silver toys could take a united pack?”

“United?” Hannah laughed. “You’re weaker than ever. Divided leadership, watered-down traditions—”

“Look around, Hannah,” Larissa interrupted, her voice ringing with authority. “Look at your pack. Really look.”

Despite themselves, both Hannah and Gregory glanced at the gathered wolves.

Malcolm knew what they were seeing—not the fractured, fearful pack they’d left behind but a strong, unified force.

Wolves of all ages and ranks stood together.

Even those who had initially resisted the changes now stood ready to defend them.

“This is what real strength looks like,” Malcolm said quietly. “Not fear. Not control. Unity.”

“Last chance,” Larissa added. “Surrender now, face pack justice. Or—”

Gregory’s snarl cut her off. He shifted in a blur of motion, lunging for Malcolm’s throat. Malcolm met Gregory’s attack head-on while Larissa spun to engage Hannah. Around them, the night erupted into chaos as the mercenaries charged forward.

But the pack was ready. Anders, having ensured Zane and Patrick were safe, moved to protect the cubs and elders, while Conall and Quinton emerged from their hidden positions, cutting off escape routes.

Malcolm grappled with Gregory, their wolf forms twisting and snarling in the dust. But something was different this time. Gregory’s attacks had once seemed overwhelming, but now they were…predictable.

Malcolm realized with sudden clarity that Gregory hadn’t grown, hadn’t adapted. He was still fighting the same way he had under Vincent’s rule—all aggression, no strategy.

But Malcolm and Larissa had learned. Had grown. Had become more together than they’d ever been apart.

Larissa’s intention practically sparked through their bond, as if he could read her mind.

Moving as one, Malcolm and Larissa switched opponents.

Gregory, committed to his attack on Malcolm, couldn’t adjust in time to counter Larissa’s precise strike.

Hannah, expecting Larissa’s calculated approach, was unprepared for Malcolm’s raw power.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Gregory lay pinned beneath Larissa, her teeth at his throat, while Hannah struggled in Malcolm’s grip. Around them, the mercenaries were being systematically disarmed and contained by the pack’s coordinated defense.

Both Malcolm and Larissa shifted back to human form, maintaining their hold on the defeated pair. The night air was thick with the scent of victory and justice.

“Your punishment,” Malcolm declared, “is to be banished forever from the Sunburst Pack, on penalty of death. Tomorrow at sunrise, you will be driven from the pack, according to pack law—the same laws you chose to break.”

“Take them and their allies to the holding cells until tomorrow morning,” Larissa ordered the twins. “And this time, make sure they can’t escape.”

As Gregory and Hannah were led away, their human allies also in custody, the pack’s energy shifted from battle readiness to celebration.

They had faced their first real test as coalphas and emerged stronger.

“Well,” Larissa said softly, coming to stand beside him. “That was interesting.”

Malcolm chuckled, pulling her close. “Interesting? That’s one word for it.” He looked out at their pack. “Think those two will ever understand what they lost? What real pack loyalty means?”

Larissa shook her head. “Some wounds don’t heal. Some people don’t change.” She turned to face him, her eyes bright with emotion. “But we did. The pack did.”

“Remember when you declared you’d be the first female alpha?” he asked, moving to stand beside her.

“In first grade.” She glanced out at the rest of the pack, preparing for the traditional moonlight run that came at the end of any ceremony instituting a new alpha. “You laughed so hard you fell off the swing.”

“Then you pushed me off when I got back on.”

“I was just giving you a preview of my leadership style.” Now she did turn, moonlight catching the humor in her gaze. “Not much has changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” he countered softly. “Look at us now.”

“Coalphas.” She tested the word. “Like that project in fifth grade when Ms. Everett forced us to work together.”

“We nearly burned down the science lab.”

“Because someone didn’t read the instructions.”

“Because someone was too busy making color-coded labels for the beakers.”

They shared a laugh.

“We were terrible partners,” Larissa mused.

“We were amazing partners,” Malcolm corrected. “We just didn’t know it yet.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you sabotaged all my other potential project partners?”

“I did not—” He stopped at her knowing look. “How did you know about that?”

“Tommy Peterson has a very loose tongue after a few drinks. Told me all about how you threatened to shove him in a locker if he agreed to be my debate partner.”

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair. “In my defense…”

“Yes?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Please, defend your systematic elimination of my academic collaborators.”

“I was protecting the pack from potential explosions. Your intensity combined with anyone else’s incompetence was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“So you appointed yourself my personal disaster?”

“Partner,” he corrected, stepping closer. “Even if I didn’t realize it at the time.”

The moonlight caught the softening of her expression. “When did you realize it?”

“Probably around the same time you started leaving tactical suggestions in my locker.”

“Those were criticism slips!”

“With helpful diagrams and training tips?”

“I was being thorough.”

“You were being protective.” His voice gentled. “Just like I was.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, years of competition and cooperation settling into something new, something stronger.

“Ms. Everett would be insufferably smug right now,” Larissa finally said.

“About being right all along?”

“About everything.” She turned to face him fully. “Remember what she wrote in our end-of-year evaluations?”

“‘Together they could move mountains. Separately, they’ll just keep running into them.’”

“I hated her for that.”

“Because she was right?”

“Because she saw what we couldn’t.” Larissa’s voice wavered slightly. “Or wouldn’t.”

Malcolm reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Better late than never?”

Larissa leaned slightly into his touch, years of carefully maintained distance crumbling. “Remember the bonfire ceremony our last year of training?”

“When you refused to sit next to me during the pack histories?” His hand lingered near her face.

“Because you’d spent the whole week telling everyone I howled off-key.”

“You did.”

“I was practicing!”

“For what? Scaring away rival packs?”

She smacked his chest, but there was no real force behind it. “For the moonlight ceremony. Which you would have known if you hadn’t been too busy showing off for Jessica Miller.”

“I wasn’t showing off for Jessica.” His voice dropped lower. “I was trying to distract myself from how you looked in the firelight.”

Larissa’s breath caught. “Malcolm…”

“You wore that dress,” he continued, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “The one that matched your eyes. And when Mr. Matthews asked who would lead the next generation of our pack…”

“I stood up first,” she remembered.

“Beat me by half a second.”

“Story of our lives.”

“Not anymore.” His other hand found her waist. “Now we move together.”

She placed her hands on his chest, not pushing away but not pulling closer either. “It won’t be easy. We’ve spent our whole lives competing.”

“Like that time we both tried to lead the autumn hunt?”

“We tracked completely different prey.”

“But somehow ended up at the same clearing.”

“Because you followed my trail!”

“Because I was always following your trail, Larissa.” The admission hung in the moonlit air between them. “Even when I pretended I wasn’t.”

She studied his face, seeing the truth there. “Is that why you sabotaged my date with Robert Mitchell senior year?”

“He wasn’t right for you.”

“And you knew that because…?”

“Because he couldn’t keep up with you. Mentally or physically.

” Malcolm’s grip tightened slightly. “Because he didn’t understand why you spent hours practicing forms or studying pack law.

Because he didn’t see how your mind worked three steps ahead while still noticing every detail around you. Because…”

“Because what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Because he wasn’t me.”

The confession seemed to echo in the night air. Larissa’s hands fisted in his shirt.

“You were impossible back then,” she said shakily. “Always pushing, always challenging, always…”

“Always watching you,” he finished. “Always wondering if you sensed it too.”

“Sensed what?”

“This.” He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “The pull. The connection. The way everything feels more intense, more real when we’re together.”

“I thought it was rivalry.”

“It was. Is. But it’s more than that.” His nose brushed hers. “Ms. Everett knew. That’s why she kept pushing us together.”

“All those partner projects…”

“The patrol assignments…”

“The detention supervisions…”

They shared a quiet laugh at the memories.

“We were blind,” Larissa murmured.

“We were scared,” Malcolm corrected. “Of this. Of us. Of how right it feels.”

“And now?”

“Now we do what we should have done years ago.” His lips curved. “We stop fighting it.”

“Just like that?”

“Unless you want to push me off another swing first.”

She laughed, the sound full of joy and possibility. “I might have outgrown that particular strategy.”

“Learned some new ones?”

“Want to find out?”

Instead of answering, Malcolm closed the final distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss like coming home. Like every challenge and competition had been leading them here, to this connection.

When they finally parted, Larissa’s eyes were shining. “Ms. Everett really would be insufferably smug right now.”

“Worth it,” Malcolm murmured, pulling her closer.

Nick stepped forward once more. “As our coalphas seem to be busy at the moment, I’ll act as alpha one last time to ask, What do you say we seal this new chapter with a pack run?”

Malcolm and Larissa broke apart with a laugh, and the pack’s answering howls echoed across the desert night, the sound heavy with victory, of justice, of a new era begun.

The tingle of anticipation that always preceded a shift shivered through Malcolm’s skin. He looked to Larissa, seeing the same excitement mirrored in her face.

“Race you to the valley?” he challenged, already feeling his bones begin to shift beneath his skin.

Larissa’s laugh was cut short as her form blurred, replaced by her sleek wolf, fur gleaming in the moonlight. Malcolm followed suit.

It’s time to run.

As one, the pack surged forward, a river of fur and muscle flowing down the mesa.

Malcolm ran at the head of the pack, Larissa at his side. Their paws pounded the earth in perfect synchronization.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, Malcolm was truly, completely at peace. The cool night air rushed through his fur, holding the promise of change.

Gregory and Hannah’s defeat wasn’t just an ending—it was proof that their new way of leading, of being pack, was stronger than the old. Together, they had faced their past and emerged triumphant.

The future stretched out before them, as vast and full of possibility as the star-filled sky above. And Malcolm couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Because sometimes , he thought, the best traditions are the ones you make yourself .