Page 41 of Malcolm

Now he stood before them, holding his chin up. He refused to feel shame before the group who’d allowed Damon to become Pack Alpha when the male had clearly been a bad Alpha.

His uncle spoke from where he sat in the center. “Like I told you, Kirkle, he’s come to accept my mantel to lead.”

Kirkle's brown eyes were beady as he squinted at his uncle. “I’ve heard rumors of this, but why does your nephew have rights over the other males?” He turned his narrow eyes to Malcolm. “You ran from your people and this land, and now you’re a dog for the very council who locked us up here. How can you be a true Alpha to your own people?”

Robert didn’t speak up for Malcolm; he reached down by his side, picked up a long stick, and began tapping the wood in the center, so sparks flew.

“He has as much right as any other werewolf who comes here looking to take Robert’s place,” an older male spoke up from where he sat near the exit. “He left the lands after you and his father branded him a traitor.” He glared at the others, who shifted uncomfortably at his words. “A traitor, when he did the one thing none of you were willing to do, which was take out the trash.”

“You say that Craig, you're forgetting who made his winning easy,” Kirkle said, glancing at Malcolm's uncle. “His own father turned against him. Why would you expect us to do anything about it?”

“That’s true; his own father did turn on him,” Robert said with a heavy sigh. He looked up, eyeing the man there. “But you all know why he had to do it. If he hadn’t done it, he would have been marked a dead man by Damon and those who supported him.” He shook his head, “I would much rather my nephew be safe and away from here.”

“Yet, now you are asking us to accept him?” one of the others complained, his blue eyes glittering in the dark. Malcolm eyed him; it was his first time seeing the man. “Alpha Robert, it seems to me you're more like Damon than you think.”

“If you don’t approve, I am more than willing to fight for my place again,” Malcolm said. All six of the elders turned their attention to him. “I don’t fear fighting for what is mine.”

“Arrogance is what brought you grief the first time,” Kirkle said nastily. “It would be a shame if that same arrogance damns your uncle's good intentions.”’

Malcolm gaze measured him. “It’s not arrogance, but knowing. I am not that weak boy from all those years ago. Since my uncle has already given his order. I will prove my worth at the a-sgeithefestival. Bring forth your best challengers, and I will defeat them and take what’s rightfully mine.”

“Malcolm, you don’t have to.”

Malcolm raised his hand, cutting off his Roberts words.

“I don’t need your worry,” he said, his tone harsh. “In a few days, bring your top choices to me, and I’ll squash any doubt that you have about me becoming leader here.” Malcolm had no intention of staying after his investigation was over, but he wasn’t going to let just anyone take his place. He owed his uncle that much as well as the other McLarens. These peoplehad welcomed him on his return, and his uncle had already explained himself.

He would have a tough time completely forgiving him, but he wouldn’t let the others suffer for the arrogance of a single man.

Kirkle stood, his lips twisting into a sneer. “Then I will see you there, puppy.” He gave a short nod to the others before marching out, followed by a few others, including the odd blue-eyed male.

“You provoked them.” Roberts words drew Malcolm’s attention, and he scoffed. “They don’t want me to be the Alpha, so there wasn’t any point in kissing their asses.”

Robert nodded. “True, they have a wish for Eric’s brother Donald to take the mantle, but that guy stinks of liquor most times and spends more time whoring around in the human world than here.”

Malcolm's brow wrinkled. “They want a puppet, not a leader.”

“Yep,” Robert agreed as he rose to his feet. “These men want to reverse everything back to what it used to be. I’m sure they miss the money they used to get from ignoring the selling of their own kind.”

“Money?” Malcolm shook his head, a look of disgust coming to his face. “They’re nothing more than greedy worms; It’s a shame we just can’t kill them all off.”

“I wanted to, but it’s hard explaining so many deaths,” his uncle said as he walked to his side. “Do you want to see the mines?”

Malcolm gave a short nod. “Are they still thriving?’

Robert smirked. “Sure are, and as usual, we’ve ignored the council's attempts to have us sell it to them.”

Malcolm laughed as he followed him out. As they made their way back up the steps towards the top of the mountain, he paused when a familiar scent tickled his nose, and he found hissteps lengthening. He passed his uncle, and he spotted her just as he arrived at the top step.

She was walking with a basket filled with what looked like weeds, and her nose was wrinkled as she listened to the cook next to her. The woman pointed out different things in the basket. “We try to stick to the cooking ways of the old. One never knows when a random Magic wave will knock out all the human conveniences.”

“That’s cool,” Eliza said as she walked side by side with the cook, the two seemingly headed back to the compound. “I’ve always dabbled in cooking but was never able to commit a hundred percent to it.”

“Eliza,” he called to her, and as if she could read his mind. She looked away from the basket and turned around and spotted him immediately. Malcolm couldn’t lie to himself; when their eyes met, he wanted to go to her, scoop her up, and leave. He loved how her eyes brightened the minute she saw him and how she seemed just as ready to run to him as he was to her. Her lashes fluttered as if she was catching herself.

“I was wondering what you were doing to keep yourself busy,” he said walking towards her.

“Well, as you can see, I’m learning how to cook a bit,” she said, lifting her basket slightly. “And then I’m planning on helping Morgan rearrange the furniture in her cabin.”

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