Redtail Rise This Time, Baby, I’ll Be Bulletproof

Actually, none of those declarations sat quite right. And it wasn’t because she hadn’t used “Wealda,” a term which she was avoiding deliberately. I am an Alpha, Masque corrected in her head, satisfied.

She looked down as the warm weight of Riley’s paw settled on hers. That flitting smile passed over her face again, which she raised so they could look at each other while he took the proverbial floor. Her gaze did not waver as she processed his words.

Maybe you’re right. But I want you to be wrong, Masque sighed. I want everyone here to recognize my merits. I want them to want me to be their Alpha.

But they didn’t. She didn’t know why—she’d spent much time speculating—but that was the cold, hard fact of it.

I’ve never left the rise, not really, she said, apropos of nothing. Of course I’ve gone off to track prey or even scout for its own sake. But I’ve never dispersed. I’ve never disappeared. Everyone else has left at one point another, except, perhaps, for the Ulfhedinn, and nobody ever seems to find fault with this.