What?

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breathe. He couldn’t do that. An Alpha had never before been appointed by anyone other than the outgoing Alpha, and even that was usually just a formality during his official retirement.

My cheeks flamed. My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I couldn’t unclench them. A familiar burning began behind my eyes, and for a moment I couldn’t decide whether that heat heralded more tears or a partial Shift.

“You don’t have the authority for that. There’s no precedent…” I began, only moderately relieved to see that Taylor, Di Carlo, Blackwell, and my uncle Rick all looked horrified.

“There’s also no precedent for a Pride being unable to come up with a suitable candidate.”

“I am a suitable candidate.” I spoke through clenched jaws to keep my teeth from Shifting.

“You’re not even a suitable wife,” Dean spat from the left-hand wall. “With the way you’re sleeping with half your enforcers…”

One glance from Malone silenced him, but the damage was done. Pierce and Mitchell were nodding, and even Blackwell was scowling. And it would do me no good to cry “foul.”

I leaned forward with my palms flat on the table, to keep my hands from shaking. “Councilman Malone, you can’t just set some random tom in place as our Alpha. This isn’t your decision. People aren’t chess pieces for you to move around as it suits you!”

“She’s right.” My uncle stood, tense muscles standing out beneath his shirtsleeves. “You can’t choose another Pride’s Alpha.”

“And I won’t have to, if Faythe does what’s best for her Pride. If she steps down and chooses a suitable husband to protect them.” His emphasis on “suitable” left no doubt that, in his opinion, neither Jace nor Marc qualified. “But if she won’t consider her Pridemates’ best interest, then I stand fully prepared to do what’s best for them.”

My heart pounded so hard and fast I was sure my chest would explode. “You cannot choose my husband.”

“Of course not. Nor can I make you give your poor mother a grandchild, unfortunately. Even though your family line will die out if you refuse to bear the next generation. But I can and will make sure your Pride has the leader it deserves, whether or not you accept him as you should. Unless you’re willing to step down and do the right thing for someone else, for a change.”

A growl rumbled from my throat, but my uncle’s hand landed on my arm, silently warning me to choke it off. “The only way anyone else will sit as Alpha of my territory is if he wins that privilege—that duty—in a formal challenge. One on one, unarmed, as tradition dictates.”

Malone actually laughed, glancing at his allies to see if they shared the joke. And when his gaze met mine again, it held an unbearable, bitter mirth. “You have five days to bury your father. If you don’t have a new Alpha by the time he’s in the ground, I will choose one for you. You can either fight him, or take him to bed as your husband as tradition dictates,” he said, throwing my own words back at me as I boiled with rage that had no outlet.

“Either way, the south-central Pride will have a new Alpha by Saturday night.”

Nineteen

“That mangy bastard!” I shoved my robe into the suitcase open on the bed and pushed handfuls of terry cloth into the corners, determined to make it fit. “He can’t do this. Right? Malone can’t just drop a new Alpha into our laps. Specifically, mine.”

“Technically, no.” My uncle sighed and sank into the chair in the corner, the dark hollows under his eyes emphasized by the weak lighting and pervasive shadows. “But then, technically, that’s not what he’s doing. Officially what will happen—if I have my guess—is that on Saturday night, some strong young tom will show up and formally challenge you for leadership of the Pride. That hasn’t happened in living memory—at least, not that I recall—but it’s definitely the historical precedent.” Which I’d pointed out myself. “And the fact that Malone handpicked whoever challenges you won’t be part of the official record. It’ll never even be mentioned.”

“So…officially, this’ll all be on the up-and-up?” How the hell did Malone always manage to disguise evil manipulations as perfectly legal maneuvers?

Uncle Rick nodded reluctantly. “If a bit archaic and barbaric, yes.”

“So all I can do is fight this asshole, right?” Or marry him, evidently, which wasn’t going to happen. “If I beat him to a bloody pulp in front of an audience of my peers, I get to be Alpha, right?” I pushed on the top of the suitcase, but couldn’t make the two halves meet, which only further pissed me off.

“I’ll fight him.” Marc took the robe and folded it neatly, then laid it across the open suitcase and zipped the bag closed.

“No. No way in hell.” At the dresser, I shoved my hair dryer and brush into a smaller bag, fighting to keep from crushing them; my fists wanted to clench around everything I touched. “I’m not going to start off my tenure as Alpha by letting someone else fight my battles. What’s that going to say to the other Alphas? To the entire rest of the werecat population?”

“It’s going to say that you’re smart. Traditionally, you’re allowed to choose an enforcer to fight in your place.”

“And you think you’re a better fighter than I am?” Marc started to answer, but I cut him off, already rolling my eyes at myself. “Okay, you’re totally better than I am, but that’s not the point. I have to do this. Everyone has to see me do this. If I can’t hold on to the Pride on my own in this first challenge, Malone will only send more challengers.”