Page 5 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

W HEN L ARISSA ARRIVED ATOP Sunburst Mesa on the day Nick had appointed to discuss choosing the alpha, the atmosphere was almost carnivalesque, a stark contrast to the somber gatherings that had characterized Vincent’s reign.

Pack members milled about, their voices a cheerful buzz punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter. Some were setting up folding chairs, while others arranged tables laden with food and drinks.

That’s all new , Larissa thought as she cataloged every detail. Then again, this gathering serves multiple purposes . Yes, it’s about announcing how we’ll choose an alpha, but it’s also about healing. About reminding us what it means to be a pack .

She spotted Anders near one of the food tables, efficiently organizing the provisions. Conall and Quinton were engaged in what appeared to be a good-natured argument as they set up a canopy. But she didn’t see Malcolm anywhere.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Malcolm chose that moment to arrive. Larissa’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him climb the last few feet to the top of the mesa. The sunlight gilded his dark hair, and his movements were fluid and powerful, like a predator in his prime.

Stop it , Larissa chided herself, forcing her gaze away. He’s your rival, not your mate.

She busied herself with greeting other pack members, exchanging pleasantries and trying to gauge the mood.

Most of the wolf shifters she spoke to smiled and chatted with her. A few, particularly the older pack members, regarded her with both curiosity and wariness. Larissa made a mental note to pay special attention to winning over that demographic.

“Come on, everyone! I have a few things to say.” Nick’s voice echoed across the mesa, cutting through the chatter.

Larissa made her way to the front of the crowd, positioning herself where she could see both Nick and the rest of the pack. Malcolm’s presence off to her right tugged at her attention, but she kept her attention turned forward.

Nick stood before them, his stance relaxed but his eyes sharp as conversations died down to expectant silence.

Larissa picked up the mingled scents of her packmates—anxiety, excitement, and underneath it all, a lingering wariness that spoke of Vincent’s not-so-distant reign.

“I know you’ve all been thinking about the future leadership of our pack,” Nick said. “Both Malcolm and Larissa are capable candidates for alpha. After much consideration, I’ve decided the fairest way to choose between them is through a competition.”

Larissa’s pulse quickened, though she kept her expression carefully neutral.

Sarah stepped forward, paper and pencils in hand.

“Each of you will suggest a category for the competition,” Nick continued.

“Something that will demonstrate the qualities needed in a pack alpha. Write your suggestions down, and Sarah and I will eliminate any duplicates. Then we’ll draw four competition categories—plus a fifth to use as a tiebreaker, if necessary. ”

As Sarah began distributing the materials, Larissa refused to look in Malcolm’s direction, focusing instead on the paper Sarah placed in her hand.

The scratch of pencils filled the air as pack members considered their suggestions, different expressions crossing their faces as they did so—some thoughtful, others almost mischievous. She wondered what challenges they might propose, what trials she would have to face to prove herself worthy.

When Sarah and Nick moved away to review the suggestions, the pack naturally broke into smaller groups around the refreshment tables. The smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls wafted through the air, but Larissa’s stomach was too tight with anticipation for her to eat.

“Nervous?” Conall asked, appearing at her elbow with Anders beside him.

“Calculating,” Larissa corrected, though they all knew it amounted to the same thing.

Anders snorted softly. “You would be. Already planning strategies for every possible challenge?”

“Wouldn’t you be?” she countered, knowing Anders’s pragmatic mind worked similarly to her own.

Across the mesa, she could see Malcolm chatting with Quinton and a few other pack members.

His head was thrown back in laughter at something Quinton had said, the sound carrying on the breeze.

Despite herself, Larissa found her gaze drawn to the strong line of his jaw, the easy confidence in his stance.

“He’s good with them,” Conall observed, following her gaze. “The younger wolves especially look up to him.”

“They respect strength,” Larissa said automatically, then stopped herself. It sounded defensive even to her own ears.

“They respect more than that,” Anders said quietly. “Just like they respect more than strategy.”

Larissa gave him a sharp glance, but Anders’s expression revealed nothing. Before she could respond, Nick cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him and Sarah.

“Some interesting suggestions here,” Nick said, holding up a large glass jar filled with the folded slips of paper. “Some…creative ones as well.” His lips twitched, and Larissa wondered what outlandish challenges had been proposed.

A cool breeze swept across the mesa, pushing before it the scent of sage, ponderosa pine, and creosote bush. Larissa breathed it in, letting the usual smells steady her nerves.

This was her territory, her home. She might not have realized it until recently, but she had trained her whole life to lead this pack, to protect these wolves. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them with the same careful precision she brought to everything else.

But as her gaze drifted once more to Malcolm, now standing tall and alert as they waited for Nick’s next words, an unfamiliar flutter butterflied through Larissa’s chest.

This competition would change everything—she just wasn’t sure how.

“Ready for this?” Anders murmured beside her.

Larissa lifted her chin. “Sure,” she replied, though her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin.

Nick was still speaking. “Before we draw the competition categories, I want to say something.” He paused, his gaze sweeping across the assembled pack.

“What I see here today—this joy, this sense of community—this is what being a pack is all about. We’ve been through hell, but we’ve come out the other side.

And no matter who ends up as alpha, I know that spirit will carry us forward. ”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Emotion swelled in her chest. This is what we’re fighting for , she realized. The chance to nurture this sense of belonging .

“Now,” Nick continued, shaking the jar, “it’s time to draw the categories that will form our competition.”

The pack fell silent, the only sound the rustling of the breeze through the sparse vegetation. Larissa held her breath as Nick reached into the jar.

“Our first category is…” Nick unfolded the slip of paper. “A hunt!”

Excited whispers broke out. Larissa’s mind immediately began strategizing. A hunt requires a combination of physical prowess and mental acuity. It’s a good, balanced challenge .

“Second category,” Nick announced, drawing another slip. “Pack knowledge.”

Larissa couldn’t suppress a small smile. She’d spent years studying pack history, laws, and customs. This category played to her strengths.

“Third category,” Nick’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Combat skills.”

This time, Larissa couldn’t stop her gaze from flicking to Malcolm.

He stood tall and confident, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

The sunlight caught the planes of his face, highlighting his strong jawline.

Larissa wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers along that jaw, to feel the scratch of stubble against her palm…

What is wrong with you? She snapped her attention back to Nick, her cheeks burning. This is not the time for…whatever that was .

“Fourth category,” Nick said, reaching into the jar again. His eyebrows rose slightly. “Interesting. The fourth category is…diplomatic relations.”

A surprised murmur ran through the crowd.

Larissa’s mind raced. Diplomatic relations wasn’t a traditional category for alpha competitions, but it made sense given both their pack’s recent history and the arguments she’d made for expanding their connections with other packs.

This could be an opportunity , she thought.

A chance to showcase a different kind of leadership .

“And finally,” Nick said, “our tiebreaker category.” This time when he unfolded the paper, he snorted. “Hide-and-seek. Noses only.” He glanced at a group of younger wolves snickering. “Traditionally, we call that ‘ tracking ,’ kids.”

Sarah shook her head, but she was smiling. “Still better than the ‘fur styling’ suggestion.”

This time, the young wolves laughed aloud.

As Nick began to outline the rules and timeline for the competition, Larissa found her attention divided.

Part of her was absorbing every word, already formulating strategies and identifying potential challenges.

But another part, a part she was trying desperately to ignore, kept being drawn to Malcolm.

He stood with his arms crossed, his expression intent as he listened to Nick. The sunlight cast shadows that emphasized the strong lines of his body, and Larissa admired the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the fabric barely containing the power beneath.

He’s certainly got the physical presence of an alpha , she admitted to herself. But it takes more than strength to lead a pack. Strategy, foresight, diplomacy—these are just as important .

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed it when Nick dismissed everyone to prepare for the competition, which he set to begin in just a few days.

The pack broke into excited discussions, their voices rising in a cheerful cacophony. Larissa shook herself, pushing away thoughts of Malcolm.

She moved through the crowd, engaging with pack members and subtly assessing their support, analyzing each interaction, each snippet of overheard conversation.

“Larissa!” a voice called out. She turned to see Sophia approaching. “Quite an interesting set of categories, don’t you think?”

Larissa nodded, her tone measured and diplomatic. “I think they offer a good balance of traditional skills and more…contemporary challenges.”

“Like nose-only hide-and-seek?” Sophia’s eyes twinkled. “You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders, girl. It’ll be interesting to see how you fare against Malcolm’s brawn.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Malcolm’s intelligence,” Larissa said, surprising herself with the defense of her rival. “Nor my physical capabilities.”

Sophia chuckled. “Oh, I’m counting on both of you surprising us. This old pack could use some shaking up.”

As Sophia moved away, Larissa again caught sight of Malcolm across the gathering. This time, he was deep in conversation with Anders, his brow furrowed in concentration. Even from this distance, Larissa saw the intensity, the passion that drove him.

Their gazes met for a moment, and heat flared through her.

It’s just the thrill of competition , she told herself.

But deep inside, she knew there was something else there—something primal and undeniable.

As she stared, Malcolm’s lips quirked in a small smile, equal parts challenge and…that something else.

Larissa lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with equal intensity before deliberately turning away.

Is this going to be more complicated than I thought? she wondered as she made her way across the mesa.

Then she shook her head. No , she thought firmly. I can’t afford to think that way. Not now. The pack needs a leader with both strength and compassion. I need to be that leader .

As the gathering began to disperse, pack members heading down the mesa in twos and threes, Larissa lingered. She breathed deeply, centering herself, pushing away thoughts of broad shoulders and intense gazes.

“Ready for this?” A deep voice behind her made her jump.

Malcolm. Of course.

Larissa turned, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her pulse quickened. “I’ve been ready my whole life,” she replied, her tone cool and confident.

“May the best wolf win,” he said, extending his hand.

Larissa hesitated for a bare second before taking it. His hand was warm, his grip firm.

She told herself the tingling sensation was just static electricity, nothing more.

“Absolutely,” she agreed, meeting his gaze steadily. “May the best wolf win.”

As Malcolm turned and walked away, Larissa watched him go, a complex mix of emotions swirling within her.

Anticipation for the challenges ahead.

Determination to prove herself.

And underneath it all, a current of attraction she couldn’t quite suppress.

With a deep breath, Larissa headed home to prepare for the competition.

And if thoughts of a certain rival kept intruding…

Well, she’d just have to work that much harder to ignore those thoughts.