Nikolai’s Wolf: Chapter Two

Rory waited for the pack to settle before he continued. “All of the eligible, unmated she-wolves will be given a five-minute lead. Unmated males will begin hunting on my say. Once you’ve captured and subdued your mate, bring her before the council for formal recognition. All challenges will be settled by combat. In the case of a draw, the female will decide. No killing.”

He waited, giving the rules a chance to sink in. “Let the hunt begin!”

Shannon took off running, cursing Rory with every step. Hunts were archaic, even for packs as locked into the past as the Sparrowhawks. He said he was trying to bring the pack forward. Damn it! What was he thinking?

In ancient times, once a year she-wolves of a certain age were gathered on the night of a full moon. They were given a head start and then the unmated males of the pack were set loose. If two or more males trapped the same female, the decision of which male claimed her was settled by combat and most often resulted in death. Once the male subdued his female—and by that, they meant fucked into submission—the couple was brought before the council to have their mating formally recognized.

There were only two ways to avoid being claimed. The first was to make it to daybreak without being caught. Sunrise ended the hunt. The second was to keep from being subdued. Shannon hoped not to be captured, but if she was, it was a bet she wasn’t going to be mounted. She’d fight the whole damned pack before she’d allow a mate to be chosen for her this way.

Running as fast as she could with the rest of the fleeing females, she veered off in the opposite direction. There were ten unmated females who fit the age requirements, and about thirty unmated males. Those were three-to-one odds, at best. Because she was the alpha-fem, none of the omegas—the weakest of the wolves—would give chase. Unfortunately, that still left the betas. Get enough of them on her tail, and she’d have a serious fight on her hands.

She ran uphill, through the toughest terrain she could find, hoping to slow her pursuers. When she’d gained a comfortable lead, she stopped and stripped, knowing she’d make better time in her wolf form. Unfortunately, her scent would also be stronger, but she couldn’t afford not to shift. Shannon needed all the help she could get.

She backtracked a bit and threw her pants in one direction, then came forward and threw her shirt in the opposite direction, hoping it would confuse them and buy her more time.

Rory howled. A chorus sounded with him, echoing through the night. The males were coming. If she could just make it to the ridge, there were places to hide and water to cover her scent. Damn, why hadn’t she figured out ahead of time he would do something like this? She’d been caught flat-footed and off guard, never good when dealing with Rory.

When she began, the wind had been in her favor, carrying her scent away from the pack. Now, she ran into the wind, her scent trailing like a beacon behind her, announcing her whereabouts to any shifter who wanted to know.

She could hear them behind her, gaining on her. She couldn’t tell how many, but it was definitely more than one. Crap, she wasn’t going to be able to outrun them. That meant she had to fight.

Shannon altered her course, already knowing the perfect place to make her stand. According to the rules, if more than one male cornered her, they had to fight with each other to determine who got to claim her. She couldn’t escape while they were fighting, but it would give her time to catch her breath and gather her strength while she studied her opponents.

She rushed into the small clearing and turned to face her pursuers, hackles raised. At her back was a rock-faced wall where the mountain soared above them. It was surrounded by dense forest on three sides, forming a natural arena.

As they entered the clearing, she wasn’t surprised to see Caleb Jones and Michael MacDougal, Rory’s second and third. What absolutely floored her was the sight of her brother with them. What kind of trickery was this?

MacDougal was a big, burly bear of a man who’d made no secret of his ambition to one day be alpha. He would have challenged her father if it hadn’t been for Rory. MacDougal was all right, but she knew he didn’t see her as a person, just a means to the end. Mating her would automatically boost his position and prestige within the pack, and Shannon would be no man’s stepladder to success.

Besides, MacDougal was old-fashioned and dominant as hell. With her petite build and small stature, he was sure to try to intimidate her, just like her father had her mother. The first time he tried to forcefully bend her to his will she’d kill him. There was no way he would be her mate.

Caleb, she actually liked. He was a good man and a strong wolf, not to mention extremely attractive with his dark skin, lean, muscular build, and long, carefully maintained dreadlocks. He would have been a consideration, except he didn’t move her. The thought of mating with him left the woman in her cold. There was no spark of attraction, no passion, nothing. She didn’t want to fight him and risk damaging their friendship, but she would if necessary. This was her life they were messing with. She couldn’t afford to throw away her future because her soft nature got in the way. There was no choice. No matter which man won, she would face off with the winner.