Page 28 of Wrestling With Werewolves

“Not even Connall?” I joke, elbowing him in the side. Goddess, his side is a rock of muscle.

His smile goes thoughtful. “Most definitely not Connall. Connall will fight tooth and nail for those he loves, but he’s not a fighter in general. He’s our pack therapist, a role I created when I realized I’m not naturally suited to those conversations. I’m more of a man of action. Connall is an incredible listener, and he gives the best advice of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” I murmur, thinking about Papá and Eliel’s tenuous relationship, if it can even be called that.

Richard must read my thoughts. “Eliel was always an asshole,” he mutters. “Fantastic at a Second’s duties, but your father knew he’d be trouble, so I guess this is that reckoning. I spoke to Marco this morning, by the way. He hasn’t been formally challenged yet.”

“Yeah.” I cross my arms over my chest, irritated at the idea of not being there for Papá when he fights. “I hope he absolutely pulverizes that creep.”

Richard bristles. “‘Creep’ is a very specific term.”

I nod. “Eliel follows me around a lot when I’m visiting and doing my duties. He loves to comment on how single I am and how old I’m getting.”

A rough growl rips from Richard’s throat as he puts his hand on my wrist, stopping us in the street. His dark eyes are earnest as he scans my face. “Does he make you feel unsafe? Marco mentioned he thought Eliel might try to force a bonding if he won.”

I shrug. “He’s never done anything aside from look at me in a gross way. But Papá is right…Eliel’s a threat. He’d take away my choices if he could.”

Richard snarls and shakes his head. “You don’t have to go back there, Lola. You’re more than welcome here. It’s a slower pace of life, and we have no beach. But we’ve got a beautiful lake, if you?—”

“Stay here?” The words come out as a whisper, shock registering at Richard’s words. “I could stay here?”

A pink blush steals across his bronze cheeks. “Your father would miss you, of course, but if you wanted to make a new, different life here…you could.”

Leave Santa Alaya? Somehow I can’t imagine Papá allowing that, focused as he is on pack first.

I blink away the shock as my comm watch pings. Looking down, I nearly choke at seeing Papá’s name hovering above the navy-blue band. That’s…surprising.

Richard pats my forearm once, drawing my attention. “I’ll leave you to your call. Cheer me on tomorrow?”

I nod. “Of course, Alpha.”

His blush deepens, and he nods before turning to jog up the street toward Bad Axe. Sighing, I direct the watch to answer my father, but my mind is locked firmly on the idea Richard presented.

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER - RICHARD

The following afternoon, I’m wiping down the bar and trying not to pay attention to Big Daddy. I haven’t seen Lola all day, haven’t talked to her since Marco called her last night. Walking away from her rankled. I wanted to stay and hear what he had to say, to make sure she was okay with whatever it was. To clarify that I wasn’t asking her to stay for me, but rather hinting that she doesn’t have to choose the Santa Alaya life. She could leave it, like I did.

Any guesses on the reason you care, dumbass? Big Daddy’s growly bass echoes around my mind, bouncing off it like it’s empty except for whatever he thinks.

As I’m thinking about her, Lola enters the bar and crosses the room toward me with both hands slung in her pockets and her guitar over her back. I chuckle when I see it sticking up over her beautiful black hair.

Offer to brush it. Females like their hair touched.

Oh, for Alaya’s sake. Seems awfully assumptive to me, but that’s how he thinks, in absolutes.

When she stops beside me at the end of the bar, I grin and thumb the guitar bag. “You planning to play some awesome fight music for me?”

She grins, revealing twin white fangs. “You never know when a little song will ease the tension. Back home, I took my guitar everywhere.” Her expression grows morose. “I used to play it for the elderly at the community home. Those were some of my favorite times.”

“Honestly, fight music might be exactly what we need,” I say on a laugh, hoping to bring her spirits up.

Just then, the front double doors swing wide, revealing the muscular figure of Rowan, one of the younger alphas from my pack. He stands a head shorter than me but he’s wider, stockier. His blond hair is slicked straight back, eyes glinting purple with his wolf’s aura.

The challenger. Good. Rip him from stem to stern. Protect our Luna.

Not our anything. Focus. This challenge is a lesson for Rowan, nothing more.

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