Chapter 5
Atlas
The cloying smell of females nearing their heat and the stench of posturing males mingled with the sweat of tension and pheromones rising in the ballroom. My wolf was fired up and restless, pacing the confines of my human mind and pressing against the tightness of these stupid formal clothes.
We didn’t belong here.
It was unnatural, pitting all these dominant, horny young males against each other to vie for ripe females’ attention. As if we’d just pair off into even numbers and that would be the end of it.
Humans and their dumb way of thinking.
We had animals within us.
We weren’t actual animals.
Or at least some of us weren’t.
I snarled as I walked by Dorian Bailey, almost wishing he’d smashed into me so I had an excuse to act. I’d been walking on eggshells the past few months every time I’d had to communicate with that arrogant beast.
Challenge him and be done with it. My wolf snarled, continuing to pace within.
Normally, my wolf wasn’t so hot-headed. Animalistic instincts only got us so far as Alpha. We’d learned the art of self-restraint a long time ago. That set me apart as an Alpha and put me in a position to lead Volk Pack fairly with a firm and gentle hand.
There, we didn’t treat our females like this, putting them on display and making them prove their worth. If anything, it was the other way around.
I made sure to get their input on how best to lead them. The elder dams would have my hide if I so much as disrespected a single female of my pack.
And my wolf would let them skin him alive.
But I won’t stand for this.
We have to. I remained steady as I kept walking away from Dorian and headed toward the bar.
My wolf had wanted me to tear Dorian’s throat out the minute he’d set foot on my western borders, declaring land I maintained and cared for as his.
Instead, I was here, playing a game I’d never wanted to play, all to make sure that bastard stuck to the rules and did things right. One slip up and I could force his entire pack back where they belonged—somewhere far away from mine.
There are always the Alpha Games.
Maybe. I thought about going that route, but I wasn’t sure if my pack was ready to accept the wild Bailey Pack into their midst. Because if I formally challenged Dorian, I’d be responsible for his pack once I killed the fucker.
Not that I’d deny them, if they needed my help.
I’d already opened that door and none had taken the offer.
They wanted to stick with him. That was fine by me. There had to be a way to get him to move on. I’d find it. Like I’d found the loophole proving he wasn’t a legitimate Alpha in the first place.
True, he biologically presented as one. But Bailey Pack wasn’t even a pack in the traditional sense. It was a troupe. A moving rag-tag gang of mismatches with no Alpha in recorded history. They had no territory. No pack structure. He didn’t even have a Luna.
The government had no choice but to accept my petition. They’d granted him one year of leniency to get his affairs in order before he’d be forced to leave.
One season.
I swore I wasn’t here to sabotage it, but man, did I get the itch.
“Atlas Volk. There you are.” A cameraman stepped in my path, thrusting a small, fuzzy microphone into my face. “You’re a hard Alpha to find.”
I nodded once. We’d kept our pack out of the spotlight for many years now and liked it that way, which made coming to this stupid show all the more ironic. Dangerous, even.
I cast a glance at Dorian again, barely resisting the urge to snarl.
“Now we get to finally ask the question that’s been on everyone’s mind.” The cameraman redirected my attention, causing my blood to run cold. Ken and Mike had assured me we wouldn’t have any interviews about my past and that of my pack. It was in our legally binding contracts. I had their word.
But I wasn’t a fool. I knew how they talked on social media; knew the questions that didn’t get answered left a burning hole in society’s mind. It was half the reason I hadn’t wanted to come here, despite knowing it was the right thing to do.
But even my pack had agreed it was my duty to see this through. It was the only way to protect them.
“The viewers at home are dying to know which Luna you like best?” The cameraman rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for my response.
The air rushed from my lungs.
Oh, that’s all?
It made sense that they’d want to know.
I folded my arms over my chest as I turned to study the ballroom again, sparing another glance at all the perfumed beauties spraying pheromones meant to attract a suitable mate, and shook my head with a firm, “No.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to eventually settle down, but I had more respect for women than to assume I’d be enough as a chosen mate. And there was a part of me curious to know if I’d get lucky like that rich Alpha last season who hadn’t wanted to be here, but ended up finding his fated mate.
Except I was a realist.
One who’d realized about five minutes after setting foot in this resort that I wouldn’t be taking a mate this season.
They don’t smell right. My wolf grumbled. We’ll find a nice girl back home. Someday.
On this, like most things, we were in perfect agreement. It was only the handling of the Bailey Pack business that caused us internal strife.
“Have you seen the online polls?” the cameraman pressed.
I stared at him, hard.
Did I look like the kind of wolf who had social media?
He got the hint, but that didn’t stop the frustrated tap of his foot. “Viewers are making predictions about who you’d best be paired with. Do you want to know who it is?”
“No,” I said.
Movement in the corner of the room caught my attention. Ken Damar had snuck in through the back door. His nervous gaze swept the crowd. When he spotted me, he gave a thumbs-up.
Sighing, I turned back to the cameraman. “I mean, no thank you.”
There. No one could say I wasn’t holding up my end of the bargain. Ken had already spoken to me about my participation—or lack thereof—and I respected the human male even if I didn’t respect his occupation. In a way, I was on his territory.
Unlike some assholes in this room, I knew how to act in a situation like that.
The cameraman’s foot continued to tap the floor, but I was saved from any more of the interview by a commotion across the room.
Jay Renfro stood under the spotlight speaking to the cameras as the main doors to the ballroom opened. They hadn’t rolled up the red carpet yet.
A woman stepped onto it.
Black strappy shoes crossed a dainty ankle. My wolf went deathly silent, even as the other Alphas and Lunas around me gasped.
I quickly looked up, seeing the mass of midnight black hair falling around her milky white shoulders. A deep red dress clung to her hourglass curves. She was petite, but perfect in all the right ways. Old Hollywood glam. I could picture her walking off the set of a black and white movie.
Blue eyes met mine from across the dancefloor. My heart slammed against my chest.
Mate.
I knew it as well as I knew my last name.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
I was drawn through the crowd like a moth to the flame, stepping out of the shadows.
Her ruby red lips smiled at…
My wolf growled as I tore my gaze away, following her new line of sight. She bestowed that sweet smile on none other than Dorian Bailey.
The possessive growl that tore from my beast caused a nearby Alpha to sprout fur, snarling as he looked for a threat.
Me. I was the threat.
And I was going to tear this whole place apart if I didn’t get to my mate.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Lunas and Alphas,” Jay Renfro was still speaking as I elbowed my way through the crowd. “The producers have given us a treat. Opal Morganton, Omega and fan-favorite from Season 7, will be joining us as an honorary Luna for Season 8 and claiming her rightful spot on the show.”
It was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop.
I fought through the roaring growl of my wolf in my ears, trying to remember the pieces of the speech—Opal, Omega, Mate—and confused as to why they weren’t cheering, weren’t bowing for the beauty standing in the spotlight in the center of the dancefloor.
The floral stench of the room turned more sour by the minute, but I could taste it up ahead.
Softly feminine and sweet like cotton candy. Summer. Freedom. Her scent was everything good in this world. But something was wrong.
Opal frowned, nervously clutching the sides of the red dress as Jay Renfro continued to walk away.
Her heart fluttered so hard I could hear it from here. I tore through the last of the crowd, shoving a chair out of the way to get to her. She was scared. Alone. In front of all these shifters.
Have to protect her. Need to save our mate.
I wrestled my wolf as I stood at the edge of the dancefloor, sucking in a sharp breath as Opal looked my way.
And her eyes lit up again.
A soft smile played on her lips.
I coughed to clear my throat, needing words that failed to come, and then coughed again as I lifted my hand, “Hello—”
“May I have this dance?” Dorian’s suit blocked my view of Opal as the snake slid in front of me.
The howl of my wolf was loud enough to split my eardrums. I yanked the beast back from taking over, from shifting on the ballroom floor and tearing Dorian’s throat out to watch his blood soak Opal’s dress.
This wasn’t me.
We didn’t lose control.
She’s mine. He’s touching what’s mine.
Get a-fucking-hold of yourself!
I fought my own monster as I dragged us both back to the shadows, white-knuckling the shift while Opal’s rich and feminine voice came as a teasing mockery when she told Dorian, of all shifters, “Thanks for saving me.”