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tonight.”
    “I don’t understand why your brother would want to kill you.
That’s awful,” Brie said quietly.
    Alistair shifted in his seat, trying to remember a time when
he’d thought of it as anything but normal. “Werewolves aren’t paragons of virtue
any more than humans are. Owain always struggled with the violence in his
nature. It didn’t take him long to focus on me as the source of all his ills. My
death won’t get him what he wants, but that won’t stop him from trying. It never
has. He’s got a substantial body count to attest to that.”
    “What does he want? The pack? You’re still the leader,
right?”
    “Alpha-in-exile, right now. He does want the pack. He wants the
legitimacy he feels like he never had as the youngest son. He wants the power he
thinks I’ve squandered by showing restraint.”
    Brie looked confused as she took a sip of tea. When she looked
up again, she said, “I don’t get it. He’s nuts, right? It’s not like he can just
kill you, waltz on in and take over. Is it?”
    “No. He wouldn’t waltz. He’d attack with his group of
bloodthirsty mongrel drifters until there was no one left in charge and then
demand submission. If he proves strong enough to do that, they won’t fight him.
He’s a Black. Heredity matters in our world, probably more than it should.
Heredity and strength. It can be a vicious existence when things are
unstable.”
    “What about your sister?”
    Alistair thought of her, eternally young and beautiful, and let
himself miss her laughter and mischievous nature, just for an instant.
“Catherine is mated to the Alpha wolf of another large pack. The two of them
have their hands full even on a good day. One of her sons, Edwin, acts as Alpha
in my stead. My nephew is a good wolf, but this isn’t something he wants as a
permanent job.” He blew out a breath. “I’ve been gone five years. Not so long by
some measures, ages by others. My pack is safe, with allies on either side of
our land. But they’re getting restless. Now that I’ve healed, they want me back.
And I need to find a way to do that, soon, before that restlessness turns into
challenges to Edwin’s authority.”
    He wished she didn’t look quite so crestfallen. It would make
this easier. He didn’t want her to worry over him...in case.
    “You left so that Owain would chase you instead of focusing on
your pack,” Brie said. She shook her head. “You’ve been running for five years?
What did he do to you?”
    “He gave me wounds so deep that they would have killed a human
man a hundred times over,” Alistair said, setting his teacup down. “We’ll
just...leave it at that.” he remembered that night too well—the relief that his
brother finally wanted peace, the regret in Owain’s eyes, so sincere...his
brother’s jaws fastening on his throat, claws in his chest, looking to tear out
his heart.
    Brie was silent for a moment, staring into the fire. When she
looked at him again, he saw she understood...possibly more than he wanted her
to.
    “You’re going to fight him. Here. He just sent that scout first
to feel you out.”
    He hesitated. “That was the plan.” He didn’t see any reason to
tell her that he’d decided that the plan had changed. But perhaps, before she
discovered he was gone, he could give her something that would help her
understand. “Over the years, the pack has lost good wolves to his madness.
Eventually, everyone I called friend became a target. Since I’ve been gone, not
a one has been lost. My pack is a force to be reckoned with, and they would
gladly fight for me, but my injuries were so severe that I couldn’t have stood
with them. No good Alpha lets his people die for him while he simply lays there, weak as a pup. My absence has kept them
safe. My brother is my problem. I have to take care of him on my own.”
    She paled. “You’re ready for this...this fight to the death?”
She looked out the window nervously, where sheets of white shifted