A Mate's Denial(17)

Gulping his beer, and fiddling with a napkin, he didn’t notice when the bar became strangely quiet. Not silent. The music still banged out steel guitar chords, and a few who’d already had too much to drink cackled or hooted, but the overall noise level had dropped drastically.

Trager looked around to see why. Over by the door, stood a couple of big-ass dudes. One wore a shirt with the sleeves cut off, and looked like he could bench-press Trager’s 4-Runner. Both massive arms were tattooed from wrist to shoulder. His head was buzzed and his eyebrows formed dual slashes above his eyes that dipped toward his nose, making a ledge out of his forehead. The other one looked just as big and bad. His blond hair was shaved on the sides, and he sported a full beard that nearly touched the top of his chest. But it was his eyes that held people spellbound. They contained the kind of fury you could light with a match and blow the whole place up. The danger held there was tangible.

Trager didn’t recognize them, but he knew exactly who they were. Ravendale wolves. And going by the extreme response of everyone in the room, not just any Ravendale wolves. This was the alpha and his second.

For once he wished he could stop breathing. The imprint, the blond one was sending out was intense. It made Trager’s wolf paw at him to get out, to go far away, so he couldn’t be under the alpha’s influence.

Never. Trager would never allow it. He was a lone wolf, and he’d bow to no alpha ever again. When he’d submitted to the Ozarka guards it was to save his sister only. It wouldn’t happen again. And especially not to the leader of the Ravendales.

The alpha strolled to the counter, his tattooed friend following closely behind, eyes lasering about the room. He banged his fist on the counter and the bartender jumped, fumbling a shot glass.

Asshole.

Trager chugged his drink and tried to soothe his wolf with thoughts of Kerrigan. The animal part of him was struggling under the influence more than others in the room, to not submit to the alpha’s imprint.

The first woman to approach the blond bastard was sent on her way. Three others, all dark-haired, were given the same treatment. Trager almost laughed as they scrambled toward a group of frat boys who were pretending to play pool. He nodded at the bunch, hoping they’d take their little party somewhere else. But the guys were each taking a turn sizing up the Ravendale wolves.

Time passed while Trager did his best to ignore the alpha and his second. He waited for Asa to show. It was possible the old man wouldn’t make an appearance with his own alpha in the building. Maybe he couldn’t.

The first time they’d spoken, Asa made it clear that he was only doling out information to Trager in hopes of preventing a war. He’d told Trager the Ravendale alpha claimed to want Ozarka land for their own—which was a valid reason to challenge another pack—but what he really wanted was revenge.

Asa had proceeded to tell Trager the story of how the Ravendale pack came to be. Almost twenty years ago, when Trager was only four years old, Jax, the alpha of the Ozarkas, took a mate. Trager remembered the grand celebration, and the way the alpha’s mate had been paraded around camp in a fancy dress. People had brought the couple gifts and sang songs and played games. Trager had eaten more candy that night than he could hold, but his tiny wolf had kept him from being sick.

What Trager didn’t know were the circumstances surrounding the most important mating in Ozarka pack’s history. Besh, their new first mate, did not come willingly to her mating ceremony. Even though she bore the alpha’s mark, his imprint, and she was his destined mate, she hadn’t wanted to belong to him. The reason chilled Trager to the bone: she’d had another.

Besh was in love with a wolf not destined to be hers. And worse, the wolf was in love with her too. They’d attempted to run from Jax but his team had hunted them down, brought her home, and beat her lover nearly to death. As his punishment for trying to take what was the alpha’s, Jax had ordered him to live, remaining with the pack so the wolf could watch Besh become Jax’s mate.

But the beaten heal. And members of the pack who knew Besh’s hand had been forced, rallied behind the young wolf. Time passed and he, along with his supporters took their complaints to the pack Elders, who called for a forum. Hopeful that they could free the young female from an unwanted mating, the adults of the pack gathered in the arena. The forum had been cut short though, with one statement from the first mate: “I have chosen my fated mate, Jax, of my own free will, and hereby request that the liar and traitor, Cael, be expelled from the Ozarka pack for the remainder of his life.”

Trager stared at the blond beast at the bar. Cael hadn’t just been expelled. He’d taken a third of the pack with him. And apparently, he’d grown it to such a number he felt he could take down the alpha who’d stolen his love.