Darcingtowne Wolves: The Flower Moon Games (Book 2)

Chapter Seven: Popularity Contest

Sarah held her arm up...and just her arm shifted into an elongated version of a wolf-ish appendage, with vicious looking claws protruding from the ends of her now fur covered fingertips. That was impressive enough on its own, but the speed at which the transformation took place was what really shook Carrie. Most wolves thought of a speedy transformation as being important, and while that was true, speed didn’t necessarily mean that the werewolf in question had control over their inner wolf - and control was the true hallmark of a shifter’s skill.

Sarah’s partial shift was so slow that Carrie could practically see each individual strand of fur push its way through Sarah’s skin. The red haired she-wolf didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the partial shift was complete and she gasped along with the rest of the gathered women.

Yumi whispered, her eyes alight with wonder, “A partial phase shift…? My goddess...the level of control requires...”

Sarah giggled a little, and blew a kiss with her clawed hand before shaking it out. Just like that, it returned to normal, showing that she could shift as fast or as slow as she damn well pleased. With that, she hopped down from the stage.

Tiffany looked just as stunned as the rest of the women as she made her way back onto the stage, “Well, that was certainly an amazing display of shifting prowess!”

The devious hostess clapped for several seconds, before coming to an awkward stop when she realized that no one else was joining in with her. Tiffany cleared her throat, looking slightly perturbed by the she-wolves’ lack of response to her. They were too busy whispering amongst themselves to pay her any mind, until she called up the next contestant to introduce herself.

Desmond blinked, amazed at the display that the incongruously sweet and gentle looking she-wolf had just put on. It was the kind of ability that you only saw in some of the most prodigious and highly-trained wolves.

“That’s certainly one to watch.” one of the Alphas commented dryly, as if Sarah Stone hadn’t just become the front runner for all of them.

Alpha Jaxon shifted uncomfortably, as if he was questioning the wisdom of showing such blatant support for Carrie without having even heard her introduction. Desmond wasn’t too worried though; the Alpha wasn’t going to back out on his decision now, and Damon was going to take full advantage of the opportunity the Alpha had unknowingly given him to assist his mate with the first challenge.

“Sarah Stone, Sarah Stone...I feel like I’ve heard that name before.” mused Alpha Frank as he swirled his drink in hand. He was a portly Alpha who had really let himself go after his eldest son was murdered. “Isn’t she the one that Prince Brenton rejected? I bet he’s regretting it now.”

“Oh, he’s regretting it alright, but not because he rejected her.” Alpha Prince Jean-Phillipe remarked. “Rumor has it she rejected him. The rejection left Brenton fangless, and that’s why his cousin had to take up the throne.”

“She certainly has moxie, and I am all for a spirited Luna but...” Alpha Jaxon paused, giving the other Alphas a meaningful look. “I want a Luna that I can train. One who eventually submits to me like the goddess intends she-wolves to do.”

Desmond was glad that none of the Alphas were looking in his direction as they nodded and made grunts of agreement, because he was not doing a particularly good job of disguising the disgust he felt for them at that moment. These men weren’t looking for mates, and they definitely weren’t looking for capable Lunas. They wanted trophy wives who knew how to look good and keep their mouths shut. It was a perversion of the mate bond’s promise; no wonder none of these men had found their mates. They didn’t deserve one.

“Obviously, they were saving the best for last.” Carrie said as she approached the microphone some twenty minutes later, before giving ‘em the finger guns. Sarah giggled and there were a few scattered laughs from the group of she-wolves, but if the Alphas in the observation room liked her joke, there was no way to tell. From this distance, they looked like shadowy, nondescript man-shaped figures.

Whatever introduction she’d been planning had flown from her mind as soon as she stepped on stage, but she figured nothing she did or said was going to be as impressive as Sarah had been anyway. Thank the goddess her ally was so damn impressive; Sarah was bound to be popular, and with any luck some of that popularity would rub off on Carrie. It was sad that this was what her life had come down to; a popularity contest in which the only prize was not dying.

“I’m Carolyn Prim. My friends call me Carrie. I am a half-wolf from North Dakota with a bachelor’s degree from Promenade Collegiate in Hospitality. As Delta of The Misfits, I’m a glorified decorator and household accountant, but I’m a damn good one. So, if you’re looking for a she-wolf who can keep your books and fold precise mitre folds on the corners of your bed every morning after you get up, then I’m your gal.”

She paused for a moment, not sure if this was a good thing to give away, but...what the hell. If she was going to embarrass herself by parading her list of skills and accomplishments to try and appeal to a bunch of creepy, probably old, creepy assholes she might as well go all the way, even if what she was about to say wasn’t an actual accomplishment in any real sense of the word.

“Oh, and one last thing. I’m still a virgin. Yep.” she popped the p cheekily before hopping down from the stage.

“A virgin, how intriguing.” Alpha Frank grinned lasciviously. “How old is that one again?”

The Alphas had all been provided with a playbill style pamphlet with miniature biographies of each she-wolf. Alpha Frank flipped through his copy until he finally came to Carrie’s profile.

Desmond didn’t need to look at the pamphlet for the answer, though. He already knew the answer, and not just because he put the pamphlets together. He knew because he’d been obsessively reading her file, which he’d saved to his phone, since they caught her the evening before. Technically, he didn’t even need to read her file; he’d had it, along with the rest of the contestants' profiles, memorized since compiling them. His eidetic memory, paired with his compulsive attention to detail, had served him well in his line of work, though most people found his memory a little disconcerting after a while.

Having an eidetic memory was just a fun party trick right up until you realized that he didn’t just remember how you took your coffee, or the exact contents of your coin purse after showing it to him just once, but everything you’d ever said - in minute detail. He tried not to ‘keep score,’ as it were, but nothing irritated him more than when people contradicted themselves. And people were - by and large - massive bundles of contradictions. Even Desmond himself, when it came down to it. For example, he knew there as nothing wrong with having previous s****l experiences, but still felt an absurd surge of pride knowing at his mate’s revelation.

“Twenty-three years old and still a virgin, my my. She must have been saving it for her mate.” Alpha Frank continued, before laughing and reaching over to slap Alpha Jaxon’s shoulder. “I might have to steal her from you, friend.”

Des clenched his fists, the guilt threatening to consume his better sense. His chest constricted, aching as it became difficult to draw in air. That bastard was right. Carrie had just turned twenty-three, and she’d been saving herself for her mate - for him. She was his!

“We’re not friends.” Alpha Jaxon growled, dusting his shoulder off as if he was afraid some of the greasy old Alpha’s stink might sink into his clothes. “And no one steals from me.”

Desmond felt that in his bones. None of these men would steal his mate from him.

“No need to be so testy there, Jaxon. I was only joking.” Alpha Frank laughed, his belly shaking as he smacked his own knee now. His laughter died off all at once, as if cut with a sharpened blade. His expression grew dark along with his eyes as his wolf rose to the surface. Then, Alpha Frank rumbled, “Or was I?”

Alpha Jaxon didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. Damon could see why he wasn’t; Alpha Frank might be powerful in terms of money, having a large and prosperous pack with a number of successful businesses, but there was no way that he could take Jaxon if the younger Alpha put forth a challenge.

Challenges were highly uncommon these days. Unless the leadership of the pack being challenged had been behaving in a particularly abusive or foul way, the laws of the alliances that most packs entered into prevented challenges from being issued. Before Sarah Stone’s father had been challenged for leadership of the Pampass Pass pack, it had been years since a challenge had been successfully lodged.

It was a shock to the entirety of the Darcingtowne Alliance when Ephraim Stone lost to a rogue upstart. But, if the papers had the right of things, Ephraim Stone’s reign as Alpha of the Pampass Pass pack had been riddled with problems - the least of which was physical abuse and regular imprisonment of the pack’s she-wolves. And the rogue who challenged him? One of his own sons that he’d banished for being too soft.

“Please, Frank.” Alpha Jaxon returned Alpha Frank’s dark look with a sharp and chilly one of his own, speaking in the tones of crackling shards of ice. “I’d love to see you try.”

Desmond’s soft growl was, luckily, covered up by the much louder one that Alpha Frank gave before he snarled, “I don’t try, boy. I succeed.”