It’s not until I escort Una through the front doors that I realize I’ve thrown a wrench in the works. Cheryl’s standing by the dais, arms folded, glaring down her nose. No one’s been served.
Annie, Mari, and Kennedy are standing at the kitchen door, laden trays propped on their hips, looking tired and pissed. There’s a general grumbling and more than the usual number of squalling babies.
“What the hell’s going on?”
Una looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Cheryl doesn’t let us serve until you’re here.”
“No?” I hadn’t noticed. Of course, I’m rarely late for a meal.
And then inspiration strikes. Didn’t my mate say something about a buffet? Instead of heading for the dais, I make my way toward the kitchen.
The table furthest back is a bunch of pre-shift males. I moved them back here the first day I became alpha. They eat like animals.
“Clear off.” I snap and point to another far corner. They scramble, leaving a half dozen gum wrappers and a weird puddle. I grab the slowest one by the back of his shirt. “Go get a bucket. Wipe down this table. You have sixty seconds.”
I let my wolf growl his displeasure. The pup gets it done in forty-five.
Then I take the tray from Mari. “Come on.” I nod for Annie and Kennedy to follow.
I unload the plates on the table, buffet-style, grabbing the best-looking cuts of meat on my way back up front.
“Help yourselves.” I gesture to the overflowing table. “Elders first. Then pups and females. Males last. Like you’re getting on a life raft.”
The grumbling gets louder, some growls thrown in. My wolf alerts, his fur prickling up my spine. He’s not mad. He’s ready for a challenge that he can actually win. He’s on a solid losing streak with Una Hayes.
I soothe him with the promise of venison and our mate. She’s still standing in the entrance, baffled and blushing as she worries the tip of her braid.
The elders are lining up with their plates, perfectly content with the new set up.
I grin at my mate, and I restrain myself from asking if she’s happy now. Instead, I gesture her toward my accustomed place in front of the fireplace.
Her gaze darts to the back of the room, but her roommates have disappeared into the kitchen. I duck aside for a second and tell Tye to keep an eye on the back exit. Make sure none of our lone females use their new free time to run off and do shit that gives me ulcers.
Una makes her way to the dais. She’s self-conscious. Her leg’s dragging pretty badly at this point.
At the dais, I lift her. There’s only one folding chair. Cheryl’s off overseeing the new buffet, and everyone else is either bitching or staring at us like we’re the floor show.
I guide Una to sit. She does, all stiff and twitchy. I snap at the B-roster table, and they all surge to their feet. Gael’s the fastest, even though he’s with A-roster. He turns, snatches Finn’s chair from under his ass, and hands it to Jimmy to bring over.
I knew I liked that kid.
I sink down, smirking, and tear a hunk of meat off a backstrap filet. It’s good. Smoky.
I rip off another bite and hold it up to Una’s mouth. She makes me wait a few seconds before she goes for it with her fingers. I snatch it back.
“Open up.”
“You’re not feeding me.”
I give the dish in my lap a meaningful look. “Yes, I am.”
“You’re not putting it in my mouth.”
I don’t smirk, but my dick rises hard and sudden. I have to steady the plate.
“You wanted a buffet. You got a buffet.” I wave at the anarchy below us.
A-roster has cut the line. A scuffle has broken out between two pups. Cheryl’s given up. She’s commandeered a table and filled it with a few purloined plates. Her usual court is gathered around, whispering to each other, glowering with well-fed disapproval at the general disorder.
“It’s not a buffet.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what is it?”
“You said it yourself. A sinking ship.”
I bark a laugh. She scowls. I finish the filet and lick my fingers. She can’t tear her eyes away. Her throat swells gently as she swallows.
A whiff of her arousal teases my senses.
I’m suddenly twice as hungry as I was before I ate.
A few male heads turn from their food, noses twitching. Oh, hell, no. Not for them.
My wolf lunges. Somehow, Una manages to grab the plate of venison as he leaps through the air, snarling and snapping, landing hard enough to rattle the empty chairs. He bares his fangs, pacing the open floor, forcing the males to back their tables further away and scoot their chairs.
He’s like a rabid sentry, patrolling a line, getting up in the faces of random males whose necks aren’t bent quite far enough for his satisfaction. I should rein him in. This is our pack. They are no threat to me. And we’re wolves. There’s no such thing as a private scent.
And I am inordinately proud of the proof of Una’s impending heat. It marks her as mine.
And it’s not like Una’s trying to lure a male. Or any would have a chance of getting within twenty feet of her. My wolf has made damn sure of that.
I need to put him back on the chain. I’m stressing the pack, upending the natural order, and that way inevitably leads to a challenge.
I want one. I want an enemy I can slay. The wolf and I both. But it would cause havoc when I need shit calm to focus on Una.
And my pack is showing their necks as they go about chowing down. I’m out of control, and they’re unsurprised. Mildly put out by the inconvenience but unfazed. Am I so unreasonable that this is par for the course?
I release one last howl for good measure and pad back to my mate. She’s feeding herself. She’s almost cleaned the plate. She grins at me. There’s a smudge of grease at the very corner of her mouth. I shift and as I go to sit, I grip her neck and lick her clean. Then I plop my bare ass on the cold metal and hold out my hand. Gael tosses me a pair of shorts from halfway across the room. Dude has excellent aim, too.
Thank Fate he’s wearing boxers.
“You full?” I ask.
Una lifts a delicate shoulder, and her neckline falls so my bite peeks out. A growl vibrates in my chest. It isn’t hunger. Not the kind that can be satisfied here.
I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. My cock aches, my balls throb, and there’s a constant urge inside me—drag her closer, bite her again so everyone sees, take her back to her nest.
Is this rut? I thought I was immune. I’ve never had a problem resisting temptation before. I’m a flip-shifter. I have full control over my physical body. I operate on a higher level. The good of the pack. The safety of our future.
Oh, I am a prideful fool.
My palms are damp, my face is flushed, and I’m hanging on by a thread.
If it comes down to it, I will beg this female. I will give her anything she wants. I am weak for her, and I don’t give a damn.
I will go fetch her another plate of venison.
“Want more?” My voice is husky. There’s a lot of the wolf in it.