Page 76 of Wrestling With Werewolves

I move without thought, urged on by Big Daddy’s overwhelming desire to protect our woman. But to my intense shock, Lola winks out of sight, and where she stood, there’s nothing but an empty gauzy dress on the floor.

Wait—not nothing. I still sense her, even as Eliel skids to a halt and Marco roars for the King’s Guard.

As Eliel reaches us, Lola pops back into view. Except, this time, she’s not a wolf. She’s a gorgeous black jaguar with slightly darker black spots. Eliel pauses, and in that moment, she slides beneath him, sinking her teeth into his throat.

He spins and dives to the ground with Lola hanging on by the teeth. Marco moves to shift, but I slap a hand over his chest.

“Don’t.” Our eyes meet. “This is important to her; I can feel it.”

He snarls and rips my hand away, then swivels to stare at his daughter.

Just as Eliel manages to pry her off him, she disappears again, and he’s left standing there, looking around. When she reappears in the form of a giant anaconda, he whimpers and backs up. She strikes as he backs away, sinking curved fangs into the flesh of his neck as she coils her body around him. He struggles, but his wolf is no match for the enormous snake.

The entire room is quiet as a grave as Lola squeezes Eliel until his head goes limp. She unwinds from him and tosses him aside, his chest still rising and falling slowly. He’s not dead, simply beaten by her in mere moments.

Murmurs begin to echo through the crowd, whispers of power, of the Luna bond, something so rare, it’s never been seen by anyone living.

My mate shifts into human form and stalks naked toward us, head lifted high. She stops ten feet away, hands on her hips, bright joy filling our bond. “Well, Papá, are you ready to fight?”

Marco sputters, raising both palms. “This is madness, Lola. I won’t fight you. What are?—”

“Then concede,” she demands, her voice carrying her words as they echo off the ceiling. “You don’t have to fight me. But if you don’t fight, then you’ll yield the throne to me now.”

When Marco sputters, she lifts both hands, imploring him in a hushed tone. “Richard and I share a Luna bond, Father, as you can see. I can shift into anything I want. I read the old texts in your office. A Luna-bonded omega can challenge the king, and he must respond. What’s your answer?”

The crowd is frozen, murmured words echoing off the high, glossy ceiling.

Luna. Luna. Luna.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER - LOLA

Istare at Papá, willing him to make this easier on all of us.

He looks around the room at our whispering, shocked pack, at the hundreds of gathered wolves he’s ruled over for centuries.

When he looks back at me, I know his decision.

“I concede,” he roars, loud enough for the room to hear. Dark eyes flash to mine and narrow. “You know what comes next, daughter.”

He spits the last word, as if he can’t bear to be connected to me. I know he’s hurt right now, but I hope with time, we’ll be able to fix this. I banked on him being unwilling to fight, but there will be consequences for forcing him into this decision.

Glancing at Richard, I implore him, “Come with me, mate?”

Papá lets out a warning growl that Richard ignores. My love reaches for me with one hand, and when I take it, he guides me across the room to Papá’s throne—no, my throne—and steadies me as I sit.

Richard’s voice booms into the shocked, silent room. “Allow me to present your new queen, Lola García Marquez, First Queen of Pack Santa Alaya. Long may she reign!”

I don’t have my princess crown with me, but no matter.

The ballroom is awkwardly silent as Papá approaches the throne, looking at me like he has no idea who I am. Maybe he doesn’t recognize this woman who never wanted anything to do with politics but now sits on his throne.

I don’t recognize her either. But when I returned home, I read the ancient texts and knew what I had to do. Being Luna-blessed by the goddess comes with great power. It’s my responsibility to use that power for my people, and I want to. Santa Alaya deserves the best, and I’ll do right by my home. But I’ll do it in my own way, on my own terms. I don’t want to rule the way my papá did. I can’t live like that.

Papá drops gracefully to one knee and bows his dark head, swearing his fealty to his new queen as a rush of sorrow and victory trill through me.

At his move, the room explodes into victorious hoots and howls. The King’s Guard shows up and drags Eliel’s prone figure away. Moons, I’ll deal with that later. Waiters twirl into the room with food piled high on ornate platters. But all I can think about is my mate and my papá, and how things are far from settled.

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