Page 4 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

T HREE DAYS LATER , M ALCOLM strode down the main street of Sunburst. His boots scuffed against the worn sidewalk as he walked, his mind churning with thoughts of pack business and the looming alpha selection.

The small, dusty town was more alive than it had been in years now that Victor was no longer in charge. Even some of the previously closed shops were already being remodeled.

Human residents went about their business, blissfully unaware of the supernatural undercurrents that ran through their community. Malcolm nodded at a few familiar faces, maintaining the careful balance between friendliness and the distance necessary to protect the pack’s secrets.

As he passed the town’s only diner, a scent caught his attention. His head snapped up, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

Sweet and spicy with peppery undertones, like honey and ginger, and with an underlying note of wild wolf.

Larissa.

He scanned the street, quickly locating her across the way.

She was emerging from the brand-new local bookstore, a paper bag clutched in her hands.

Even from this distance, Malcolm saw the titles of strategy books and leadership manuals peeking out from the top of the bag. Always preparing, always planning. That was Larissa.

Malcolm considered turning away, avoiding the inevitable confrontation. But as if sensing his gaze, Larissa looked up.

Their eyes met across the street, and an internal fire ran through him, the same feeling he’d had since they were children.

Setting his jaw, Malcolm marched purposefully across the street, dodging a pickup truck that honked irritably at him. As he approached, Larissa’s posture stiffened slightly, her chin lifting in her proud, defiant way.

“Larissa,” he greeted her, his voice a low rumble.

“Malcolm,” she replied, her tone cool but not unfriendly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

As they stood facing each other, Malcolm was struck by a vivid memory. Suddenly, he was back in pack school, barely more than a pup. Ms. Everett, their stern-faced teacher, was handing back quizzes on pack history.

“Excellent work, Larissa,” Ms. Everett said, placing a paper marked with a bright red A+ on Larissa’s desk. “Malcolm, you might want to study a bit more next time.”

Malcolm glanced at his own paper, a B- glaring up at him. He’d looked over at Larissa, expecting to see her smirking. Instead, she gave him a small, encouraging smile. “I could help you study, if you want,” she offered quietly.

Funny. He’d completely forgotten that moment of kindness amid their constant competition until just now…

Malcolm shook off the memory.

“Doing some light reading?” He nodded at the bag of books.

“Just keeping myself informed. A good leader needs to be well read, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Malcolm agreed, unable to keep a hint of challenge from his voice. “But all the book learning in the world can’t replace real-world experience.”

“No,” Larissa said, “but it can certainly enhance it. I prefer to arm myself with knowledge before diving into action.”

As they fell into their old pattern of verbal sparring, Malcolm found his mind drifting again. This time, they were sixteen, participating in a pack training exercise. The goal had been to capture a flag placed at the top of a steep hill, with half the pack defending and half attacking.

Malcolm was so sure of victory. He was the strongest, the fastest. He charged up the hill, muscles burning, dodging and weaving through the defenders. But when he reached the top, panting and triumphant, the flag was gone.

Larissa had outsmarted them all. While Malcolm and the other attackers had been focused on the frontal assault, she’d quietly organized a small team to circle around the back of the hill. They’d retrieved the flag with minimal confrontation, using stealth and strategy rather than violence.

The look of quiet pride on Larissa’s face as she presented the flag to their pack leader stirred something in Malcolm—a fierce desire to prove himself her equal.

“Earth to Malcolm,” Larissa’s voice cut through his reverie. “Am I boring you with talk of pack business?”

Malcolm blinked.

The sunlight caught in Larissa’s hair, highlighting strands of gold among the brown. He pushed away the sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

She raised an eyebrow at his continued silence.

“Not at all,” he said quickly. “I was just thinking about how we might implement some of these ideas. The pack’s been through a lot. We need to be careful about how we move forward.”

Larissa’s expression softened slightly. “I’m glad we agree on that, at least. The pack’s welfare has to come first, no matter who ends up as alpha.”

“You’ve always had the pack’s best interests at heart,” he said. “Even when we disagree on the methods.”

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Was that almost a compliment, Malcolm? Careful, or I might start to think you’re going soft.”

Malcolm chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Not likely. I still intend to win this alpha contest.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Larissa’s eyes glinted.

At a sudden commotion down the street, both their heads whipped around, their wolf-sharp senses instantly alert.

A group of teenagers had gathered in front of an empty storefront, their voices raised in anger.

Without a word, Malcolm and Larissa moved in unison toward the disturbance. As they approached, Malcolm recognized one of the boys as Owen. He was facing off against three human boys, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What’s going on here?” Malcolm demanded, the unmistakable tone of authority in his voice.

The boys, pack and human alike, immediately straightened up, recognizing the presence of adults. Owen’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Malcolm and Larissa.

“Nothing,” one of the human boys mumbled, not meeting Malcolm’s eyes.

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Larissa said, her voice firm but not unkind. “Owen? Care to explain?”

Owen shifted uncomfortably, glancing between Malcolm and Larissa. “They were… They were saying things. About my family. About us being weird and secretive.”

A rumble built in Malcolm’s chest. The secrecy of the pack was paramount, but so was protecting their younger members from bullying. He opened his mouth to speak, but Larissa beat him to it.

“I see,” she said calmly. “And you thought the best way to handle that was to get into a fight in the middle of town?”

Owen hung his head. “No, ma’am.”

Larissa turned to the human boys. “And you three. I know your parents. Do you think they’d be proud to hear about you ganging up on someone and spreading rumors?”

The boys shuffled their feet, looking properly chastised.

“I think it’s time you all headed home,” Malcolm added, his tone brooking no argument. “Owen, we’ll talk about this later.”

As the boys dispersed, Malcolm turned to Larissa. “Nice work,” he said grudgingly. “You handled that well. You defused the tension without giving away anything about the pack.”

Larissa shrugged, but she had a pleased glint in her eye. “Sometimes a softer touch is as effective as—or more effective than—arm-twisting.”

Her words triggered another memory, this one from their late teens.

It had been a hunting competition, meant to test their tracking skills.

Malcolm had been so sure he’d win—he was the stronger wolf, after all.

But Larissa had outperformed him, tracking their prey through difficult terrain with a patience and attention to detail that had left him in awe.

“How did you do it?” he asked her afterward.

Larissa smiled, a rare moment of openness between them. “I listened,” she said simply. “Not just with my ears, but with all my senses. The land speaks, if you know how to hear it.”

Standing in the middle of town now, years later, Malcolm realized Larissa was still teaching him that same lesson. There was more than one way to lead, more than one kind of strength.

“We make a good team,” he said, surprising them both.

Larissa glanced up at him sharply, as if trying to detect any hint of sarcasm. When she found none, her expression softened. “We do,” she agreed. “When we’re not at each other’s throats, that is.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the ambient sounds of the town—distant car engines, the faint tinkling of wind chimes from a nearby porch.

What would it be like if they were always in accord like this?

But reality intruded quickly. They were rivals for the position of alpha.

Malcolm pushed away the moment of weakness, straightening his shoulders.

“I should get going,” he said, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Pack business to attend to.”

Larissa nodded, her own demeanor cooling slightly. “Of course. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough.”

As she turned to leave, Malcolm caught himself watching her go.

The way she moved, confident and graceful, stirred something in him he wasn’t quite ready to examine too closely.

She was his rival, yes, but also something more.

A challenge, a counterpoint, a…possibility.

Shaking his head to clear it of such dangerous thoughts, Malcolm turned and headed back toward his house.

But even as they walked away from each other, moving in opposite directions, Larissa’s scent lingered, as if to remind him he hadn’t won yet.