Page 52 of The Wild Wolf's Rejected Mate

“What do you suggest I do, Diantha?” Justus asks, his voice dry, but not so dry that it’s blatantly disrespectful.

Diantha props her hands on the lavish mounds of her hips. “I don’t know. You’re the alpha. Make her smell better.”

“I’m not the alpha,” Justus grumbles.

Diantha smirks. “Then we’ll take her with us. Since you don’t have any say. Since you’re not thealpha.”

She’sbaitinghim—the male she calls alpha.

He’s getting annoyed.

She better shut up. Someone will get hurt. The pup is right there.

“I’m her mate,” he says. “She stays with me.”

Diantha rolls her eyes. “That’s not your call, is it?”

Itishis call, though, right? Males decide where their females can go and what they can do. Even now that Una and Killian are mated, the malesallow usto sell our wares in Chapel Bell.

“Do you want to come with us, Annie? We won’t let any of them near you.” Diantha turns her nose up at the males who have been subtly gathering closer to her. Immediately, they cast each other accusatory looks, projecting as much innocence as long-haired, tattooed, half-shifted males can.

“She’shismate.” Alroy straightens, lifting his chest and hiking his chin so he can glower at Diantha. Standing tall, he almost seems like a different male. “You stay out of it.”

Diantha’s face gets shrewd and bloodthirsty, like a raccoon about to steal a dog’s dinner.

“Where’s my granddam’s black bear pelt, eh, Alroy?” she asks in a singsong, projecting her voice so even the folks at the back can hear. “Oh yes, I remember. You traded it to Quarry Pack for three unmated females. Where are the females then, Alroy? Eh? Eh? Where are they?”

Alroy flushes beet red from his pasty chest up to the tip of his ears. The redder he gets, the more his muscles tense. Neither my wolf nor I clocked him as a big threat, but now, we both eye him warily.

“Don’t try to be slick, Diantha,” he sneers. “You want to take his mate so you can get him back.”

Get him back? My wolf rumbles.

Justus is flushing now, too, under his beard. “Enough, Alroy,” he says.

“That’s right, Alroy,” Diantha jumps right in to say. “Now show neck and shut up like a good boy.” Her attention is trained on Alroy.

Justus’s face darkens, his scent souring by the second, and Diantha is so intent on riling Alroy, she doesn’t notice at all.

Be quiet! Danger! Make her be quiet!

My wolf edges closer to the little pup who’s watching wide-eyed like the rest of the pack.

Why aren’t they bending their heads? At the first hint of Killian’s displeasure, everyone in Quarry Pack bows their head like it’s time to give thanks at a full moon feast.

None of the females seem concerned that there are two males growing angrier and angrier. It almost seems like entertainment to them. The male with the drumstick is sucking the bones while his gaze ping-pongs from packmate to packmate.

“You’re not the alpha female, Diantha,” Alroy sneers. “No matter how many times you’ve sniffed Justus’s ass.”

She snorts. “Youwisha female would even sniff in thedirectionof yours, but for that to happen, you’d have to wash it,Alroy, more than once a season.”

“I saidenough,” Justus growls through gritted teeth.

He’s angry. No one move.

The little pup rolls onto her side, stretching her legs and splaying her tiny toe beans. Exposing her belly. My wolf’s muscles bunch, her heart in her throat. How does the pup not sense the danger?

When males fight, they don’t care what breaks or who they trample. Where the hell is her dam?

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