Page 31 of Dawn of the Pack

I don’t know what the issue is; we’ve been naked with Lily before the shift tons of times, and we’ve never had a problem. I mean, of course I enjoy the view every time, but it’s always been easy to behave myself, filing the image away for a time I’m alone and able to enjoy it properly.

When I glance to the other side, I’m shocked to realize Milo isn’t having the same issue at all. In fact, he’s standing with his arms crossed, glaring at the dudes from Montrose, who are staring at Lily. Not with any sort of lustful expressions on their faces, thankfully. The spokesman for the group, Jeff, wears a battle-ready look. The rest of them just appear curious, as if they are looking forward to this little showdown.

And just like every night, a sudden riot of sound emits from every cell phone among the pack, loudly and chaotically proclaiming that it’s midnight, and time to shift.

LILLIANA

I take in the hard planes of my tallest mate’s body, the way the light and shadows play across those cheekbones, his lean, muscular arms and pecks, the impressively narrow waist and defined ‘V’ of muscle below his belly button, which is practically at my eye level. Aware that I’m ogling, I glance up and give Landon a flirty smile. He grins back widely, dimples appearing like deep shadows in the stark moonlight.

When I turn my attention back to Jared, I can appreciate the difference between Landon’s milky skin and Jared’s dark complexion. The moonlight drains the world of color, rendering him all shadow with gleaming silver highlights on the curve of each well-defined muscle. Where Landon is tall and lean, Jared is thick and wide, his body reminding me of a Greek statue carved from onyx with every muscle perfectly defined and polished. I long to run my hands over every smooth, hard curve, particularly his sharp hips and well-rounded butt.

My belly clenches and the awareness that I’m losing myself to incredibly inappropriate thoughts for this setting hits me full force.

Then the alarms go off.

The shift is so familiar now I don’t even have to think about it. Before the last buzz sounds from a nearby phone, the clearing is now filled with every size, shape, and color of wolf I can imagine.

My mates creep closer, nuzzling me with their furry heads while I try to give each of them a comforting lick. Milo’s body presses tightly to my side, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest, with his head turned to the left.

A large brown wolf is approaching the center of the clearing, his steel-grey eyes focused intently on me. I spare one more nuzzle and lick for Milo before I issue him a commanding growl of my own, warning him to knock it off. He quits immediately and steps back, leaving me to face my challenger.

We’d sorted all the details before leaving Harridan House, so there isn’t much to do besides begin. I trot forward to meet him and can feel my mates retreat further, melting into the outer circle but still close enough they feel secure. When I reach the exact center of the clearing, I sit and wait for him to make his move.

With my position as alpha, I’m due a fair amount of deference even if he doesn’t belong to my pack. I accepted his stupid challenge, but that was verbally. Now he has to issue me the challenge as a wolf.

When he approaches, a low growl emanates from the surrounding wolves, all of them disliking this foreigner being so close to me. I examine their color map swiftly; mostly orange for anxiety or discomfort, nothing I need to be too concerned about. A sharp bark silences them immediately, and my gaze darts to the other three visitors, where they wait patiently with their guard, who are still in human form.

Jeff is a sizeable wolf, and with his hackles up, back arched to make himself look even larger, he could be intimidating.

Except I have no reason to be intimidated by him. My wolf remains silent, simply waiting for him to make a move.

With a snarl he launches himself at me, and I spring forward with a snarl of my own, jaws snapping at his throat in a near miss when he twists away in response.

My nails dig into the ground, sending dried leaves flying behind me as I stop my momentum and turn to face my challenger again.

My wolf is furious that this unranked male would dare to challenge us. The alpha voice rumbles through my mind without conscious intent, but of course has no effect on him, since he doesn’t belong to my pack.

When he charges again, I jump aside and focus on learning his tactics. He’s like a freight train, barreling forward with the obvious intent of running over me. We’re nearly the same size, and he seems to rely on brute strength with a goal to overpower me. Such an amateur mistake.

My wolf eyes are sharp, tracking Jeff’s every move as he charges again and again. Learning his rhythm, the way he moves, the way he steps and how he leaps forward to attack.

Once I’m confident I have his number, I go on the offensive. But for every charge I make, snapping at his throat, I make him charge me several times, using up his explosive power to tire him out. He just doesn’t seem to know how to switch tactics; it’s like an arcade video game where the player knows the character’s special move and just keeps mashing that button despite it continuing to fail.

The crowd is restless, their concern clear in the low growls and whines they make with each of Jeff’s attacks. My mates aren’t concerned, although the furious snarls Milo keeps making continue to surprise me.

Abruptly, I push the attack, rearing up on my hind legs and settling my jaws on the back of his neck like a misbehaving puppy. He thrashes beneath me, trying to shake off the teeth that are deeply lodged in his flesh, hot blood trickling onto my tongue.

But it’s no good; my grip on his neck is solid, and I force him down into submission. When he gets his belly on the ground, he makes one last attempt to fight back, trying to use his hind legs to spring upward and break my grip.

My force is too strong, and his lower body bucks futilely against my inescapable force. A deep warning growl rumbles in my chest, and he stops kicking. With a series of small shifts, I work my jaws slowly around his neck until my teeth are imbedded below his chin. Now I could easily rip his throat out. If I wanted to.

All it takes is one more threatening growl, and the fight drains out of Jeff. His body relaxes, laying heavily on his side as a high, clear whine emits from his throat.

I hold on for one more moment, just in case he gets any ideas, then release him.

Standing tall over his limp form, I issue a long, clear victory howl to the moon. My pack answers with joyful howls of their own. If there were any normal humans within a ten-mile radius, I’m certain they’d be calling the park rangers to report us. But as it stands, there’s no one here to interrupt our celebration.

Once I’ve finished celebrating, I step away from Jeff’s prone body casually, as if to remind him how low his desires rank compared to mine. He shakes out his fur, meets my gaze for one long moment, then dips his head in respect. The remaining three members of his group trot forward, released by the guards, and my mates join me, yipping cheerfully. Milo takes a few extra moments to inspect me for injury and pepper my face with kisses.

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