Page 50 of Untamed

"It is the intention of the Luna, Alpha, and Alphason of this pack," Blue-Star says smoothly, "to continue strengthening RustClaw, yes."

"This just won't-" Ant continues. Her face is turning a very unpleasant shade of puce.Puce; ochre, ginger, toast. It's not a good color on her.

"It isdone," Inuit interrupts Ant in a cold, harsh voice. "You are not my blood,AuntGlory. Careful how you step on my land."

I've never heard him speak that way before. I turn to look up at him, but he doesn't peer down at me, doesn't let up his relentless stare at the invaders.

What happened to my Mactiir - to Mactiir, the male who wouldn't stop talking?

"Let's move this along," Blue-Star says. I peek behind me and almost jump; I'm so startled by the crowd of hard-faced, eagle-eyed wolves standing behind us. Some are shifted on paws, their heads high, gazes unwavering as they watch the invading weasels closely.

"We are simply here to visit my brother and to see how he is doing with... well, with everything that has happened," Ant pipes up.

"Spoiled fucking alpha's daughter," I hear the Dark Male mutter under his breath. Ant doesn't react, so I don't think anyone else heard it. He needs his mouth washed out.

"You mean since your brother's son was executed for lying to the pack about his truemate and nearly killing her, our Luna?" Blue-Star growls. "And then your brother's mate abandoning him and the pack and then managing to get herself murdered?"

"Jess is fine. Those were just rumors," Ant sniffs. "In fact, she spread those herself to get away from the intolerable situation here."

I'm not sure what just happened. As usual, I have no idea what anyone is talking about, but the air around me crackles in a way that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise and my canines elongate until they poke free past my upper lip.

Tears prick my eyes, and an ache in my shoulder tells me that Mactiir is holding me a little too tightly. I slip my hand under his shirt and rub small circles on his back. He exhales, some of the tension releasing.

"How are you certain of this?" Blue-Star asks. He soundsstunned; shocked, surprised, dismayed.

Ant sniffs again. "She has been visiting us for the last few years."

"Where does she live, now?" Blue-Star sounds strangled as if his words are choking him. Who are they talking about? Is this anotherenemy?

"I'm not about to tell you that. You are not the alpha of this pack. Jax is, and Jessie is his luna. You arenothing. A silent Alphason and his wild bitch are not right for RustClaw and you three and your slut-"

All three males, Mactiir, Blue-Star, and Dark-Male, growl, cutting off her tirade. Ant falls silent but doesn't back down, the color in her cheeks darkening to purple.

"Darling, maybe we should-" Weasel starts to placate her.

"No! This is our pack!" she spits furiously at Weasel. Who, interestingly enough, looks even more like a weasel now that he is trying to escape. From Ant or Blue-Star? Who knows?

"She is the rightful Luna of this pack. Your nephew is dead. Inuit is the Alphason. There is not a damn thing you can do about it," Blue-Star snarls.

"Diego will Challenge this imposter!" she shrieks, pointing her finger right at Mactiir's face.

I lunge at her and bite the offending finger right off of her hand. She shrieks in pain, and I cry out in shock at the bitter taste of Ant's blood filling my mouth. Pulling away, I spit and spit, feeling the urge to vomit just to purge the awful taste.

Rooster steps forward. "Keep your chained bitch under control!"

He is silenced by Mactiir's wicked claws, sunk into his right shoulder. "I let you live for Jax, only," he growls. A heavy shake and the tendons in Rooster's shoulder rip and tear, nearly to the joint itself. It's a bit impressive.

"Jax won't find this powerplay amusing," Blue-Star snarls. "Get the fuck off this land."

"You have enemies," Ant spits as she stands. "You will lose this pack."

I will claw this female's tongue from her mouth. The sound that falls from my lips comes from deep in my gut. My she-wolf's chest vibrates. It's a part snarl, part howl, part scream of a pure predator. It mixes in the air with Mactiir's roar of fury.

Ant races back to the shiny, black vehicle she stepped out of just a few minutes ago, followed closely by Weasel and a heavily-bleeding Rooster, supported by the two young females with shaking legs.

I turn to look at Mactiir's dumb walnut-eyes to make sure that he's better and see something odd out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I see wolf after wolf on bended knee.

So strange, pack wolves.

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