Page 1 of Shepherd's Runaway
Chapter
One
SHEPHERD
Ididn’t step into the cage all that often anymore. Some thought I was getting too old for it, but the truth was the fight didn’t call to me as it once had. Or it didn’t call to me as often, anyway. Tonight, though…the bear was restless. So I’d put my name on the fight sheet.
With a grunt, I planted my feet and pushed hard, propelling myself off the cage wall where my opponent was trying to trap me. The beast in my chest snarled, pleased to find we were stronger than the other alpha in front of us.
He stumbled back, letting out a snarl of his own before he charged me again.
The bar beyond the cage—my bar,The War Den—was rowdy. Most of the cheers were for me, but my opponent had come in with a group of shifters, probably members of his pack, and they were snarling almost as much as he was. Hopefully, they knew better than to start anything out on the floor. The members of my pack who worked here with me didn’t tolerate any violence outside the cage.
This bar and the surrounding property was home to my small pack—our territory—but inside the cage itself was neutral ground. Packs all around reserved it to settle disputes and it’d seen more than one alpha challenge. Most times, like tonight, the fights were pure entertainment, but often enough there was more to it than that.
Those nights or afternoons, the bar itself was closed. The two packs would meet here and me and my guys would act as mediators. The violence stayed in the cage. Those were the rules.
As my opponent lunged at me, a waft of the most intoxicating scent hit my nose. For a second, I was dazed, letting a punch connect with my jaw that I’d have never let through otherwise. Stumbling back, I sucked in a bigger lungful of air and shook my head trying to clear it. Right behind the incredible scent were the clear pheromones of an omega in distress.
Not just any omega, my bear roared in my head. A kind of madness descended over me as my entire being focused on a single objective—getting to the source of that scent. I tackled my opponent, scrambling up and straddling him as I punched him in the face. The referee—George, a local off duty cop and friend—reached to pull me off of him, but I was already on my feet.
“Move,” I growled, pushing George out of the way as I ran the short distance across the cage to the door. On the edges of my awareness, I could hear the crowd cheering, hear George sputtering behind me, see my men realizing something was off and going on alert, but I couldn’t stop. Ihadto get to that scent. Nothing in my life had ever compelled me the way the barest trace of it carried on the air was now.
Jumping from the elevated stage the cage sat on, I lifted my nose and scented the air, ignoring the back slaps and greetings from the audience. It was harder to pick up the trail in the crowd, but it was still there, buried under a miasma of sweat, alcohol, and so many bodies.
I pushed my way through, still only catching trickles of the scent. About halfway across the floor, I realized the trail was leading me to the door. The scent was stronger for a second every time someone came in or out.
“Shep!” Thorn called from my right side. He was pushing toward me, bodily moving people out of the way and getting plenty of scowls for it. “What’s up?”
“Outside,” I yelled back, still moving forward.
By the time I reached the door, Thorn was right behind me. We pushed outside, and I immediately moved to follow the scent that was so much stronger out here.
Our lot was gravel but well lit and patrolled at minimum every fifteen minutes. I swept my gaze over the cars and trucks in the half of the lot where the scent was strongest.
There.
At the very end of the row, shadowed beneath the branches of the surrounding treeline, a tall man stood at the entrance to the gap between two vehicles. Just from the way he was standing, I could tell he was an Alpha.
I ran in that direction, Thorn right behind me. The others must have been occupied inside, as was their job, but honestly, the bar was the last thing on my mind. My Omega was here somewhere and the pit opening in my stomach told me that I already knew exactly where he was.
The alpha I could see was so engrossed in whatever was happening between those cars he didn’t even look up as I approached.
“Hey,” I shouted a moment before I shoved him to the side.
He growled and lunged for me, but Thorn intercepted him before he had the chance to make contact. With one threat handled, I turned to the space between the cars.
The alpha there pushed away from where he’d had my Omega pinned against the vehicle.
“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, moving my direction.
The words I wanted to say stilled on my tongue with a look at my Omega. His eyes were wide with fear and the distress scent pouring off of him ratcheted up with every step I took. To him, I was another threat. Another alpha come to torment him.
So I took a breath to calm myself and met the other Alpha, toe-to-toe.
“I’m Shepherd. I own this bar. You’re in violation of our policies.” Moving another step forward, I got right in his face and growled. “Collect your buddy and both of you get the fuck off my property. You’re banned for life.”
Bristling, he sputtered until his gaze moved over my shoulder. From the scent, Hux—another of my men, and the biggest fucker I’d ever met—had arrived at the scene.
