Chapter 47 The New Alpha
A few days later, Jackson and I walked out of the police station into the late afternoon sun.
We had given our official statements separately, sticking close to the truth without mentioning shifters or mating bonds.
The detectives seemed satisfied enough for now.
They had a dead girl and a clearly unstable suspect in custody. That was enough to keep them busy.
The pack had heard everything by now.
News of Naomi’s death and Lia’s arrest had spread like wildfire.
Lia had failed her psychiatric evaluation and was now in a high-security facility until she was deemed fit to stand trial.
Even the older generation, who still harbored no love for cat shifters, thought kidnapping one in broad daylight was pure insanity.
Thomas was denying everything, of course.
But Naomi’s parents weren’t letting him off so easily.
Brayden, the pack’s beta and a longtime member of Thomas’s inner circle, had gone nuclear.
Someone (me) had made sure he received certain videos from Thomas’s office.
Footage of his daughter on her knees, Thomas’s hand fisted in her hair.
Brayden wasn’t just grieving. He was furious and he knew too many of Thomas’s secrets. If he turned fully against the alpha, it could tear the pack apart.
Some pack members had convinced themselves that Thomas was responsible for John's disappearance because he knew too much.
The irony wasn't lost on me. And as if that wasn't enough, Rick had filled us in yesterday: Thomas had faced three formal challenges in the past week.
He wasn't in his prime anymore. The last fight had been brutal.
He had barely walked away with his throat intact.
Jackson’s phone buzzed again in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and slipped it back without answering.
It had been going for days. Pack members texting and calling, urging him to step up.
To challenge his father. To take the alpha seat before the whole thing came apart. He had answered none of them.
We reached the SUV. He opened the door for me, waited until I was settled, then climbed in on the driver’s side. The engine rumbled to life.
“Has Thomas called again?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb.
Jackson’s jaw flexed. He hadn’t set foot in pack territory since he ran out of that meeting the day of the kidnapping. “Yeah. This morning. Didn’t pick up.”
I watched the side of his face. “What does he think incessant calling is going to accomplish?”
Jackson shrugged, jaw tight. “My guess? He wants to yell. Threaten. Remind me I’m still his son and I owe him loyalty.”
Through the bond I felt a heavy, restless tension rolling off him. Not anger exactly. Something deeper. Burdened.
For a long moment he said nothing, eyes on the road. Then he spoke, voice low.
“I keep thinking about the omegas. The kids. The families Thomas has already bled dry. I was raised to protect this pack. To be its alpha one day. Walking away now… it feels like I’m abandoning them when they need someone most.”
He glanced at me, clearly conflicted.
“But I also know most of them still won’t accept you. And I won’t force you to stand in a place that hates what you are.”
I reached over and rested my hand on his thigh. “Then we go see it for ourselves. Drive to the packhouse. I’ll be fine. I can handle whatever looks they throw at me.”
Jackson exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He nodded. “Alright. I’ll talk to the elders council while we’re there. Make sure the weaker members are protected during the power shift. No matter what happens with Thomas, they shouldn’t pay for it.”
I squeezed his thigh. The city gave way to familiar roads leading toward pack territory. Jackson’s hand stayed laced with mine the whole drive.
When we arrived at the packhouse, it was teeming with wolves. The moment Jackson and I stepped inside hand in hand, a heavy hush fell over the main hall. Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned. Dozens of eyes locked onto us, filled with shock, curiosity, and open hostility.
An older woman near the center of the room caught my scent and went rigid. Her face twisted in pure revulsion, nose wrinkling like she smelled something rotten. A low, guttural snarl ripped out of her throat and she lunged straight at me.
Jackson cursed under his breath. He released my hand and thrust his arm out, his palm slamming into her chest with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She crashed hard onto her ass, still growling.
"Back off, Tina," Jackson roared. His wolf rose close to the surface, a deep warning growl vibrating through his chest. "That goes for every single one of you."
The woman scrambled to her feet and brushed herself off. She leveled a hateful glare at me. “Let me rip her throat out!” she spat.
“Not a chance,” Jackson growled. “Harper is under my protection.”
Tina’s lip curled in disgust. “Why? She's beneath you. One cat isn't worth turning against your own pack.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened. “No one is going to harm her.”
Tina’s eyes burned. “She’s a cougar, Jackson! They’re our enemies!”
“She’s my mate.”
Uneasy voices spread through the hall.
Tina’s eyes widened, disbelief giving way to horrified laughter. “Your mate? A cougar? You’ve lost your damn mind, Jackson!”
“You can smell it,” Jackson said. He gestured toward me. “Our scents have combined. We are marked and bonded.”
I stood tall, chin lifted, letting my gaze sweep across the room. Ignoring the hostility around us, my cat purred at Jackson’s protectiveness. I met every stare without flinching.
Tina’s face twisted with revulsion. “That’s sick,” she spat. She turned sharply on her heel and stalked toward the hallway leading to the alpha’s office. “I’m getting your father.”
Jackson sighed as he watched her disappear.
Moments later, Thomas appeared in the doorway. He looked worse than I had ever seen him — exhausted, worn thin, with dark circles under his eyes and hair disheveled from repeatedly running his hands through it. A permanent scowl seemed etched into his face.
I allowed myself a small, quiet moment of satisfaction. Our plan had already taken its toll on him.
That was… delightful.
Thomas’s eyes locked onto me with pure, venomous hatred. The room was watching. His authority was bleeding out in front of everyone, and he knew it. Cornered alphas were dangerous.
“Enough,” he snarled, voice carrying the full weight of alpha command. “This ends now.”
He pointed straight at me. “That cat is an enemy of this pack. She has infiltrated our territory, seduced my son, and brought nothing but death and division. By pack law, she is to be put down. Now.”
The command hit like a hammer. Several wolves stiffened, instincts kicking in. A few took actual steps forward, lips pulling back from teeth.
My cat bristled inside me, every instinct screaming to shift.
Jackson moved like lightning. He shoved me behind him, his broad back a solid wall between me and the rest of the room. A deep, warning growl rolled out of his chest.
“No,” he said, voice low and lethal. “No one touches her.”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “You would defy your alpha? For a cat?”
“She is my mate.”
Thomas looked around the room, face twisted with fury.
“What are you waiting for? Kill her!”
“No,” Jackson roared, putting the full force of his own alpha command behind the word. The wolves who had been creeping closer froze mid-step.
For a long second Thomas just stared, chest heaving. Then fury flooded back in, ugly and desperate.
“You—”
Jackson lifted his chin and spoke the words that changed everything.
“I challenge you,” he said, voice ringing clear through the hall. “For the position of alpha.”
My breath caught. This wasn’t the plan. We’d come to observe, to talk to the elders — not to ignite a challenge tonight.
Across the room, Thomas stared at his son as if he'd never seen him before. "You'll regret this, boy."
Then the hall exploded into chaos. Voices rose.
Wolves shouted. Some looked furious, others stunned, a few almost relieved.
The elders moved fast, clearing the center of the room in minutes.
Tables and chairs were shoved aside until a wide circle of bare floor remained.
The pack pressed in tight around it, shoulder to shoulder, eyes bright with anticipation and bloodlust.
I shoved my way forward until I stood at the very edge of the ring.
Thomas stripped off his shirt with jerky movements, eyes never leaving his son. “You want this, boy? Then let’s finish it.”
Jackson pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His muscles flexed under the lights, broad and heavier. He met my eyes for half a second. No fear. Just cold determination.
They both removed their pants and dropped into the shift.
Bones cracked and reformed. Fur rippled over skin.
Thomas’s wolf was massive, silver-gray with scars crisscrossing his flanks.
But Jackson’s was broader across the chest, built like the alpha he was always meant to be.
They circled each other in the cleared space, lips pulled back from long teeth, low growls rumbling deep in their chests.
The fight started without warning.
Thomas lunged first, fast and vicious. He went straight for the throat, no testing, no dance.
Jackson met him head-on. Their bodies slammed together with a sickening thud of muscle and bone.
Snarls filled the hall. Claws raked across Jackson’s shoulder, drawing first blood.
Jackson twisted and drove his weight forward, forcing Thomas back a step.
I stood at the edge of the ring, heart hammering. My cat screamed inside me to leap in, to tear into the silver wolf that had ruined so much. I clenched my fists until my nails bit skin and held my ground. This was Jackson’s fight. Interfering would only make it worse.