“What’s happening?” I asked with a yawn. It had taken me too long to fall asleep.
“A challenge.”
Her voice hitched a bit when she spoke, worrying me. I flipped back the covers and joined her at the window.
Below, the men had formed a loose circle around two wolves. The animals fought wildly with claws and teeth, clashing and backing away only to clash again. Their moves were too fast to follow easily, but the blood on the ground around them told the tale well enough.
I glanced at Mary. She bit her bottom lip as she watched and tears glistened in her eyes.
“Do you know who it is?” I asked.
“Thomas.”
My heart gave a lurch; and in transfixed horror, I again watched the pair fight. I couldn’t tell which wolf was Thomas. There was too much blood on both of them.
“A challenge for what?” I asked.
“Pack leader.”
In the crowd surrounding the fighters, I spotted Gregory and Grey. Then, I frowned at the fight, trying to make sense of what I knew and what she just told me.
“Wait. You said packs are family units. So who’s Thomas fighting?”
“A Forlorn.” Mary spared me a nervous glance. “Charlene, I can’t talk about this.”
“What do you mean? Talk about what? What a Forlorn is, or Thomas fighting?”
A tear actually slipped down Mary’s cheek as she helplessly looked at me. I could tell she wanted to say more. Something was stopping her. As if she’d been commanded not to speak of it.
“Mary, don’t worry about it. If it’s something you can’t talk about, I understand.” I pulled her to me, hugging her close. I understood secrets and wouldn’t condemn someone else for keeping them.
The door to our room opened, and Anton poked his head in.
“She can’t talk to you, but I can. Thomas has been recruiting. He’s now the first leader of a non-family pack, one large enough to ensure Thomas can claim any territory he wants. He’s claimed this territory. His challenger, should he win, would be Thomas’ pack’s new leader. That would give him rights to this compound, you because you’re unClaimed and living here, and Mary, since she’s unClaimed and currently a member of Thomas’ pack.”
Outside, the snarling increased in volume.
“I’m sure you’ll have questions for him when he’s done. Would you like me to escort you to the main room? Winifred asked that I keep an eye on both of you.”
Anton’s calm demeanor and choice of words told me he believed Thomas would be the winner. It helped me think past the actual fighting to the reasons behind the challenge. The challenger wanted leadership of not just Thomas’ pack but the compound—I liked that name—and me. It wasn’t long ago that I’d asked Mary and Winifred about non-family packs. They said there weren’t any. When had that changed and why? Just how big was Thomas’ pack now? Anton was right, I did have questions. Why hadn’t Mary told me that Thomas was now her leader? What about her father, Henry? I glanced at Mary and saw her worry.
“Yes, let’s go down,” I said to Anton.
Anton led us to the empty main room. The door to the outside remained shut, yet we could hear the continuing battle. Mary stood beside me, eyes wide as she listened. We needed distraction.
No food waited near the fire. Nothing to cook.
“Mary, let’s boil some water for a bath.” One or both of the two fighting would need a bath or at the very least, to wash. If they chose not to bathe, the water wouldn’t go to waste. I felt overdue for a bath, myself.
While pumping the water, I noticed two more bags on the floor and realized I’d never looked at what Winifred had brought. Once all the kettles were heating on the stove, I emptied the contents of the bags on the table. As promised, I found cookies on a tinfoil wrapped plate. I eagerly shoved one in my mouth while looking at everything else. She’d brought more dried beans and a very large cloth bag of rice. This time she’d also included a huge bag of oats, a jar of honey, a bag of sugar, and several jars of jams, tomatoes, and pickles. It appeared that either Winifred canned or she knew someone who did.
Mary started to put the supplies into the cabinet, and I removed one of the steaming pots from the stove. I poured half the water into the bowl in the bathroom, leaving just enough in the pot to boil oatmeal for breakfast.
After returning the pot to the stove, I went back to the tub room, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. The sounds of the fight continued to filter in from outside. I moved to the stove to check the water again.
By the time the water boiled, I had the oats ready to put in, and Mary had towels ready for whoever would take the bath.
It was only after I added the oats that I noticed the quiet.
“Well?” I asked, looking at Mary.
She met my gaze with a thankful smile. “Thomas won.”
Relief flooded me. “Good. Tell him we have a bath ready if he wants it. Breakfast will be done in a few minutes.”
I stirred some sugar and honey into the cooking oats.
The door opened, and a very dirty and slightly bloody Thomas walked in. For some reason, I’d expected a few more injuries than what I saw. There’d been so much blood on the ground.
His gaze met mine. My heart fluttered in response, and I quickly looked away. He needed to start wearing a shirt. Though I wasn’t watching him, I was aware of his regard as he strode toward me. My skin prickled when he stopped just behind me, and a shiver traced its way down my spine.
I continued to stir the oats so they wouldn’t burn and pretended I didn’t notice him or my reaction to him.
“Mary, this is just about done,” I said. “I’ll set it on the small table so it can finish cooking without burning.”
Before I could test the handle, Thomas reached around me and lifted the pot from the stove. His bare arm brushed mine, making it harder to ignore him.
“Thank you,” I said, quickly stepping away.
He grabbed my hand and held the pot out to Mary without looking at her. She quickly retrieved it, her cheeks pink and an unspoken apology in her eyes. Behind Thomas, Anton winked at me and strode out the door.
“Do you have questions for me?” Thomas asked.
“How many are in your pack now?”
His lips curled in a slight smile.
“Nine.”
He sounded so proud of that number.
“And what will you do with those nine pack members?”
“Fix this place. See if we can’t find ourselves a new purpose.”
“How exactly did you gain each of your new pack members?”
The humor faded from his expression. He studied me, and I could tell he was trying to figure out where I was going with my questions. When he didn’t answer, I asked my next question.
“If he would have won, Mary would have become one of his pack. What if she didn’t want to be one of his pack? Could she just leave?”
“She could,” Winifred said, entering the room. She closed the door behind her and gave Mary a reassuring smile. “However, she would have been considered Forlorn, an outcast, until she could find another pack to take her. Mated, that would be an option. However, an unMated Forlorn female is a dangerous position. Even for a moment.”
“Could she just rejoin her father’s pack?”
“Once her father is proven weak in a challenge, he would find himself constantly challenged by those looking to win an unMated female,” Winifred said.
I turned back to Thomas.
“Did you challenge her father?”
“No.”
But if she went back to her father after defecting from his pack, he would be challenged. Why had she left in the first place? Was it because she was getting ready to say yes to Gregory? Or had Thomas interfered?
“Did you tell Gregory to ask her to join your pack since they will be Mated eventually?”
He didn’t respond, answering the question with his silence.