Chapter 8

Ava POV

As deeply as I loved the history and traditions of Moonstone Pack, I refused to blind myself to some of our more primitive ways. Olivia's right to burn off my markings was an example. And now Ethan had challenged Chris to Alpha status.

I have been told several reasons for the Alpha Challenge. Some said that old Alphas refused to retire. Others said the challenge was a way to signal to the pack that new leadership meant new ideas. Still others just said it was to make sure the Alpha was strong.

Whatever the explanation, a life-and-death duel for pack supremacy hadn't taken place in Moonstone Pack for well over a century, but it also hadn't been removed from our laws. Through the challenge, any male, except omegas, could become the pack leader through combat.

What I despised most about the Alpha Challenge was the entire notion that physical strength equated to good leadership. All five packs of Wolf Territory had experienced the tyranny of an Alpha who had won leadership through the challenge.

New Moon Pack had even experienced a rebellion-actually, an assassination, but no one would call it that-against its Alpha fifty years ago. The entire New Moon Pack had fallen into chaos, and the four other packs had needed to step forward with humanitarian aid before they managed to elect a new Alpha and recover.

"I accept your challenge," Chris said, making my heart sink to my stomach.

Ethan sneered, and I knew that while Chris was younger and probably pound-for-pound stronger than Ethan, Chris had been living with the Humans for so long he had probably forgotten what it meant to fight a werewolf.

But more than that, Chris had been away from the land for ten years. He had been weakened by the Human World of high tech and rampant pollution. I wondered when the last time was that he had stood before the moon and felt her presence inside his mind and body. When had he last eaten the fruits from the Goddess?

I had a vision of the future with Chris dead and Ethan as Alpha, and I went weak in the knees.

But there was nothing I could do. The Challenge had been offered and accepted. Within minutes, the five Elders entered the room, ready to witness Ethan's exile. Instead, Chris explained in terse sentences that a Challenge was in the works.

When the Elders started objecting, Elise held up a hand. At 172, she was the most senior of the Elders, and despite whatever arrangement had been made with Degas, the youngest Elder at 154, for him to serve as their spokesperson, her word was the most authoritative without the presence of an Alpha. Everyone went silent.

"Alpha Chris," she said.

"Yes, Elder Elise."

"You have accepted Ethan's Challenge in full acknowledgment of its meaning?"

"I have."

She nodded, and among the mass of wrinkles scoring her sallow face I saw a touch of respect. While I was gratified for Chris, I was again reminded of how deeply some traditions went through the material makeup of the Pack.

"Prepare yourselves," she said next. Then she nodded to her fellow Elders who all swept out of the room in their brown robes like leaves in a breeze.

Ethan sneered, an expression I was becoming increasingly disgusted by, and left right after.

Chris sighed and turned to me, obviously expecting some sort of argument.

I only shrugged.

"You have to win," I said.

Three hours later, Moonstone Pack was again standing in the Square. The brazier still burned brightly, and again omega slaves were manning the coffee and tea stands. The sun was lower in the sky, but it was hours before evening.

Elder Degas stood in the Square and explained the Challenge. Olivia, I noticed, watched from a safe distance surrounded by omega slaves. I also noticed she didn't come up to wish Ethan a good fight or to share her colors.

Color was actually much on my mind as we stood there in the Square. It was late summer, the time when everything in nature seemed both to be putting on a show and just a little tired of the whole thing. The late afternoon sun shone on two Alphas in their prime while hundreds of people-more than had shown up for Ethan's decree-crowded around, jostling for a better look at the combatants.

Elder Degas announced the nature of the Challenge, namely that Ethan and Chris were now going to try to kill each other, and retired to the sidelines. Chris, with an odd little wink at me I didn't know how to interpret, took the chain holding the Moonstone from around his neck and set it on the stairs to the portico, making sure it would face the combat area. I didn't know what to make of it, but the Elders seemed pleased.

Chris and Ethan confronted each other. Ethan, I saw, had that stupid sneer on his face, whereas Chris looked calm but determined. I looked around intending to blend into the crowd and saw to my surprise that people had given me a little sphere of space.

In the same moment, I was gratified and embarrassed that the Pack recognized what this Challenge meant to me. I would have thanked them, if I could have found the words. I saw Laurence watching me, and we nodded to each other.

With a smarmy look at the Pack, Ethan took off his shirt with a flourish, revealing a body I knew only too well. It was fit and darkly hairy with visible lines under his pecs and down to his pelvic ridge. Blinking, I removed the double vision of time, seeing him as he was now, not as I had seen him when we married.

Well, to be honest, a little before we were married.

For a thirty-eight-year-old, Ethan's body was still impressive, but I noted the slight swell of his middle and the gray hairs sprinkled in the black on his chest. I also looked for and found the light scarring over his ribs from a fight he'd gotten into as a young man with two other wolves, both of whom had come away from the encounter much worse off than he had.

Chris nodded and silently took off his shirt, which drew a low but decidedly female murmuring from the crowd. He did look magnificent standing there in the sunlight, his fair skin and hair shining and the ridges of his abs rippling as he moved.

Ethan dropped his fangs and charged, claws growing as he raised his hands. Chris stepped aside, but not quickly enough, and his right shoulder and arm were suddenly bloody with long gashes that almost reached down to his hand.

Chris growled in pain and anger and turned to face Ethan, his own fangs dropping slowly as he seemed to struggle with his transformation. Ethan smiled in triumph, and my heart lurched in fear.

The next minute, Chris crouched as his claws extended, ignoring the blood, and feinted to the left before charging Ethan to the right.