The Alpha's Mate (37 page)

“Would you like me to show them the map,
Alpha?”

“Please,” he said, “And while you’re at it,
you can explain these.” He spread the papers out while she opened
the map so that both her version and Everest’s could be seen
together.

‘Of course, Sir,” she agreed meekly. Idaho
seemed to appreciate her subservient attitude. “These are the
personal holdings of the parties involved with verification through
local tax assessments and land offices. The yellow areas are those
of the Alpha Goodman. The green ones belong to the Alpha
Everest.”

Elizabeth moved closer to Alpha Idaho, so
that when Creepy Eyes leapt to his feet and lunged at her, it was
Idaho who stepped forward in her defense.

“It’s a lie. These lands belong to the Double
W, not to me. And look at this. Look at it! That’s not Rabbit Creek
territory. It’s a postage stamp of land.” Everest turned to
Marshall. “You put her up to this. The bitch would do anything you
asked.”

This wasn’t going the way she planned, but
Marshall, bless him, fell right into step with the current
situation. He didn’t deny his participation in her endeavors, but
he didn’t lie. Patiently, quietly, as if he didn’t want to frighten
her, he spoke quietly.

“Tell the Alphas Smythe, Norton, Morgan, and
Goodman,” he nodded to each Witness in turn, “Exactly what you
did.”

She looked at the four Witnesses and then at
the floor. “I called my mother’s lawyer, who was also my stepfather
for a time. I asked him to research the holdings of Marshall Allan
Goodman and Calvin Bingham Everest. I told him that they each
showed an interest in me and I wanted to be sure they were who they
said they were. I told him I was only interested in their interests
in Rabbit Creek and the surrounding area.” She pointed to the
papers on the table. “They’ve all been stamped, sealed or
notarized. I didn’t know what they would show until I opened them
just now.” She glanced at the three small yellow outlines on the
map.

Marshall shrugged. “Rabbit Creek is an
incorporated township and the land is held by individual owners.
What you see is what I own; my home, the Home Place, a spot up on
the mountaintop along with the land surrounding them. I have, in
the past, owned or purchased land or houses and held them until a
pack member could raise the money for purchase. The mill and other
businesses are held jointly by the wolvers who work there. I
receive a salary and a share of the profits. The mountaintop is
held in trust for the use of the township and reverts to the state
should I have no son or daughter to manage the trust. Because
everything is owned by members of the pack, we consider this our
territory, but in a court of human law, it isn’t.”

“You’ve been busy, little brother.” Charles
frowned, but Elizabeth could see a glint of humor in his eyes.

“I never wanted the land to come between my
children.” Marshall stared Everest in the eye. “You can have my
land, but you can’t touch my pack.”

Calvin Everest poked the green spots on
Elizabeth’s map. The table thumped beneath his finger. “These lands
are held in the name of my pack.”

“The name on the deed is yours, Calvin, not
the Double W.” The Canadian Alpha, Norton, spoke for the first
time. “What are these areas here?” He pointed to the plots marked
with green hash marks.

Elizabeth consulted her papers, though she
was pretty sure what it meant. “These are lands the Alpha Everest
hold jointly… with the Alpha Goodman, uh, Charles Goodman.”

“Wait just one damn minute.” Charles stepped
forward. “That’s a business deal. That’s the future of Crystal
Springs Development.”

“It is,” Elizabeth smiled sweetly, “And when,
ah, if Marshall and his pack win the battle tomorrow, you two will
be partners.”

That earned her a scowl from both
brothers

Chapter 39

Elizabeth didn’t spend the night alone. At
Marshall’s request and with the Witnesses agreement, there were two
wolvers, representing both packs, posted at both the front and back
of the Home Place.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t sleep anyway.
She paced and prowled about the tiny house until she was sure she’d
worn another inch off the floors.

Finally, when the sun was already rising over
the trees, she sat in one of the chairs by the fire and fell into a
fitful slumber punctuated by dreams of blood and high pitched
animal screams and pack members pointing accusing fingers in her
face.

She’d done the right thing, she was sure of
it. The only way to deal with Calvin Everest was to win decisively,
humiliate him in front of his pack and send him home with his tail
between his legs. If his wolvers were anything like those in Rabbit
Creek, they’d know what went on at the meeting; know that they
weren’t fighting for their pack but for their Alpha’s personal
gain. Maybe, just maybe, that would affect their morale.

The worst of the nightmares was the one in
which Marshall became so concentrated on the battle for his pack,
that he forgot the Chase and Elizabeth was left alone and at the
mercy of Creepy Eyes. She awoke from it screaming with four wolvers
staring at her.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She shooed them back
outside, furious at having her fears so blatantly displayed.

She wasn’t fine. She was terrified. She’d
done as Maggie demanded and never let it show, but it was there all
the same, clawing at her back like a demon from hell. There was no
way to negotiate the Chase. The rules were cut and dried. After her
role in the negotiations, as angry as Creepy Eyes was, Elizabeth
knew she would suffer punishments beyond imagination if he won the
Chase. As if being forced to mate with him wouldn’t be enough.

It was early afternoon when Maggie arrived
with Max and Gwenna and Lara to help her to dress. They tried their
best to make it a festive occasion but their jokes and laughter
fell flat. There was nothing to laugh about until Marshall won the
Chase and Elizabeth was their Mate.

She bathed and shampooed as instructed and
Lara dressed her hair. When Elizabeth saw the pile of bits and
pieces gather from the woods that would serve as decoration for the
tight French braid, she cringed. She was, however, delighted with
the result. With her crown of evergreen and berries and her simple
white shift, she looked like a woodland nymph. The white sandals,
she refused.

“You can’t expect me to run in those.” She
pointed to the delicate shoes.

Maggie harrumphed. “When you going to start
remembering we ain’t stupid? They’re supposed to think you aren’t
prepared to run. We’ll get you into those sneakers right afore the
moon rises.” She whispered this last, glanced toward the window and
said more loudly. “We’d best be getting back to the festivities.
We’ve put you off long enough.”

“How can anyone party at a time like
this?”

“It shows the other side we’re not afraid of
the outcome,” Max explained.

“And the games get the men loosened up and
excited about the coming battle,” Lara added. “Don’t seem like the
Double W is doing much, though.”

“They party after the victory.” Gwenna was
the only one looking worried. George had been chosen to fight and
she was afraid he’d be singled out because of the last
conflict.

Elizabeth gave her a hug. “There’ll be
twenty-nine others fighting beside him. George will be fine.”

“It’s not the battlefield that worries me.
It’s the twenty wolvers we can’t account for.”

“They’ll find them, Gwenna,” Lara assured
her, “And if they don’t, we will. And then we’ll make them
pay.”

Elizabeth was surprised by the number of
children running around the grounds of Marshall’s house. Boys
laughed and played and fought mock battles with each other, running
one minute on all fours and battling on two legs the next. Maggie
assured her that all under twelve would be removed before the
battle began. The rest were considered old enough to learn what
being a wolver meant. Elizabeth wanted to object that twelve was
too young, but boys changed to wolvers at fifteen and were expected
to carry their share as soon as they reached a man’s full height
and weight. And young women needed to know what was expected of
their men.

Little girls greeted her with offerings of
flowers and treats. There was no doubt in their shy smiles. She was
to be their new Mate and Elizabeth tried to draw their untainted
confidence into herself.

Marshall walked among his people, nodding,
laughing, slapping backs and participating in games his ancestors
had brought with them from Scotland so long ago. She watched him
coach Junior and his friends as they tossed the caber, a long pine
pole, and the young men’s looks of pride when he praised them.

He wasn’t allowed to touch her or talk to
her, though his surreptitious looks told her he wanted to.
Elizabeth understood. If Marshall was allowed contact, Creepy Eyes
would enjoy the same privilege and neither of them could tolerate
that. It was just as well. Marshall’s show of relaxed
self-assuredness inspired her to maintain her own. She refused to
let Creepy Eyes win this battle of wills.

She greeted the members of the Rabbit Creek
Pack with smiles and thanks for their blessings and goodwill. They
almost made her believe this was a normal mating, a wolver wedding
celebration.

When the lowering sun reached the trees, all
festivities stopped. A few chosen women loaded children into trucks
and drove away. They would wait together in the church for news of
the battle. The remaining women helped their men undress. There
were a few short kisses and hugs. The wolver women did their best
to hold their emotions in check. Those chosen to fight entered the
field normally reserved for the Percherons. Marshall was one of the
thirty. There would be no kiss for him.

Thirty Double W fighters marched out from
behind the house and onto the field. Calvin Everest wasn’t one of
them. He followed them, strutting in his naked glory, tall, barrel
chested and slightly greying. He wouldn’t fight beside his wolvers.
He was saving himself for the Chase and Elizabeth hated him for
it.

There was no sound as the opposing packs
faced each other across the field. The wind stopped and even the
small sounds of nature ceased as if they knew something terrible
was about to happen. As the last of the sun disappeared, a flash of
brilliant, blinding light swept the area and the women stood alone,
surrounded by wolves.

A great roar and howl went out from the field
as the two sides charged. The center of the field exploded with the
boiling collision of sixty wolves ready and eager for battle. There
was no hesitation on either side. Snarls, yips and growls blended
into a ferocious hum as wolves lunged, dove and leapt, open jawed
with teeth bared. Individual combatants fought each other or
rallied in groups to fight off others. It was hard for Elizabeth to
tell one pack from the other in the remaining dim light, but as her
eyes adjusted, she was able to recognize a few. She caught sight of
Marshall several times only to have him disappear into another
tumble of fur and teeth.

The women and surrounding wolvers watched in
quiet and anticipation as the battle raged until a scream of pain
rent the air after a full half hour of battle. The crowd erupted in
a communal gasp and yips of frenzied excitement. First blood had
been drawn.

The smell or sight of blood had its effect on
the combatants as well. Elizabeth didn’t think it could possibly
be, but the fighting escalated to the point of ferocious fury. She
saw the barrel chested George hurl himself over the heads of the
others to catch the flank of another leaping wolf. The two fell in
a tumble of fur. There was a scream of pain and then George arose,
lifting his muzzle to the darkened sky.

A cry from one of the women drew her
attention to a skirmish at the corner of the field. One lone wolf,
tail to the corner post, held three attackers at bay, but it was
clear his slashing efforts would only delay the fatal outcome. The
attacking wolves were working in tandem. Two would strike from
either side of his head while the third would grab at the hind legs
in an attempt to hamstring the wolver.

Elizabeth crammed her fist to her mouth as
she remembered how close she’d come to that same fate. But this
victim didn’t run as she had. He stood bravely and fought.
Defeating one, another would lunge until finally, one sank its
teeth into the lone wolf’s rear leg. The injured wolf spun to get
away. Though dragged off his feet, the attacking wolf had his jaws
locked on the leg and would not let go.

The other two moved in, circling, waiting for
their chance to pounce on the exposed throat of their thrashing
victim. Elizabeth wanted to close her eyes against the coming
slaughter, but she couldn’t. She tasted copper against her tongue.
Her teeth had pierced the skin of her knuckle.

She felt a heavy shove against her thigh and
she stumbled to the side. A wolf with a darker saddle over its grey
sides; Creepy Eyes, she realized when he turned his glittering
green eyes toward her. In his wolf form, he couldn’t speak to her,
but his curled lip and snort of approval said it clearly enough.
“Challenge us and you die.” She turned away from him and back to
the wolver who was willing to make that sacrifice for his pack.

From the center of the bloody melee at the
center of the field, a great silver head raised up and howled.
Marshall! He leapt straight up, soaring over the tangle of wolves
below and charged for the corner of the field. He caught the first
of the circling wolves under its belly and tossed it into the air
with his head. The move exposed the vulnerable underside of
Marshall’s neck and the second wolf sprang quickly forward. It
wasn’t quick enough.