Page 3 of The Healer

Rhys released a slow breath. Adrenaline pumped through his veins while the excitement and a healthy dose of fear raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

“He’s watching from his lofty perch.” Noah tipped his beer to his lips.

“Wondering why he wasn’t invited?” Jase laughed, a little too loudly. “Let him hear how much fun we’re having, how much we care for his brutality.”

The urge to look tugged at Rhys. His bear roared, willing him to give Alrik the middle finger. Rhys grinned at the idea. No, he wanted him to join the party. The older male would do so unafraid, bringing Dyl and Vik as his only protection.

Rhys snorted. An alpha shouldn’t need bodyguards, and Alrik’s security detail said it all. The challenge match would be between Rhys and Alrik. Taking down his bodyguards would weaken Rhys, and that was exactly how it would play out, breaking the challenge laws.

Folks trickled in, each stopping by to offer their support. Fear lingered in their eyes, in their broken spirits, yet they had ventured out with hope the driving force. The weight of their suffering settled on his chest like an anchor, bolstering his determination.

They feasted. The aroma of charred meat added to the pseudo joy in the air. While he nursed one beer and was desperate for another, the chill of midnight approaching tested his patience.

“What are we celebrating?” Alrik’s bombastic voice grated on Rhys’s last nerve.

The fool smirked, as if everyone’s silence was a mark of respect. In an expensive jacket and a crisp white shirt, he had the air of a gentleman at leisure.

Behind him stood Vik, all muscle with no hair. Rhys had never liked the kid growing up. His bullying of others less fortunate or weaker than him wasn’t an admirable trait. No matter what Rhys said to him, it had ended in brawling. To be fair, Rhys had Vik to thank for his fighting skills.

Dyl hovered farther away, his gaze vigilant. Not originally from the Knights Ridge pack meant no blood ties to the folks there, no history. A stranger was easier to manipulate, easier to pay off.

The temptation to lunge, to snap Alrik’s neck was strong. Eager for a fight, Rhys’s bear banged against the restraints. Yet, to assume the alpha role, he had to challenge and win.

“No reason.” Shrugging, he met Alrik’s gaze, not backing down, not glancing away in submission.

The older male bristled, squaring his shoulders. “Where’s Aiden?” He chuckled, but his focus didn’t shift from Rhys’s face.

He didn’t rise to the bait. “I believe he and Willow asked for alone time.”

Alrik’s attempts to keep the bloodlines pure was pointless. Species with species was his motto despite the mix each pack sported. Rhys hadn’t heard of pure bear packs or wolf packs except from fables told around the campfires. Those days were long gone. And besides, love didn’t care about blood, gender, age, or status, and Alrik thinking he could control or deny it was proof the old male was an idiot.

He whipped his head to stare at Noah, a pulse ticking at the base of his jaw. “And you condone the dilution of your bloodline?” Alrik growled. “Impure blood weakens our connection to the Lunar goddess.”

“Maybe, but from where I’m standing, I’d say the goddess has long abandoned you.”

Alrik roared, his face mottling. “You challenge me?”

Noah laughed. “No, not I, old cat.”

“I suggest you remove that jacket. When we’re done, I’ll sell it to pay for repairs. And you better pray I kill you before we find out what you’ve wasted our money on.” Rhys peeled off his T-shirt, draping it across a tree stump.

The problem was the moment he bent to undo his boots Alrik would charge. It was in his nature, and a tiger never changed their stripes.

Rhys loved these jeans, and releasing his bear would shred the well-worn denim. Sighing, he rested his hands on his hips as he studied his alpha.

Surprising him, Jase kneeled and undid Rhys’s laces. Fuck, right then, he loved his brother-in-pack. Alrik growled, lunging forward to nudge Jase aside, but Sawyer and Noah leaped in front to shield him.

Vik loomed behind Alrik, attempting to warn them off without shifting into his bear. Made sense, since his hairless bear was a laughable sight. He had the claws and teeth of a polar bear, just not the intimidation factor. Vik was evidence Alrik’s “beliefs” were subjective. The last person to mention that had died.

During their posturing, Rhys removed his boots and shimmied out of his jeans. “Thanks, Jase.” He nudged his head to the crowd, asking him to guard the innocent.

Noah and Sawyer settled behind Rhys, mimicking Vik and Dyl.

“You have a choice before you.” Rhys folded his arms across his chest and met Vik and Dyl’s gazes. “Stay, and you die for this male. I sure as fuck think that would be a waste of life.”

Without eyebrows, the only way to measure Vik’s surprise was by the furrowing of his forehead.

“You know me, Vik, you know my history, my stance, my honor.”

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