Free alphainsheepsclothing by Desconhecido(a) Page A

sinking.
    “That’s what I thought. I imagine everyone will come along eventually, ’cept the elders who can’t get out.”
    He fought rolling his eyes, because that would be rude. Enoch deserved Tate’s respect just for managing to live as long as he had. Hell, the guy could remember when the miners had begun to invade their territory.
    They made it to Rosie’s, where a small, tea-totaling crowd had already begun to gather outside. Tate waded through the pack, wanting to see for himself if Farrel was actually down and out. Their (hopefully former) alpha wasn’t all that, really, but no one else in Wolf Pines wanted the job, and Farrel was a sneaky, backstabbing cheat.
    He strode into the bar, the stink of the place making his nose burn. Rosie was a good woman, but despair was impossible to fight with alcohol, so the whole place had an air of desperation and a stench of fear and sweat.
    “Well, I’ll be damned.” The words popped out, because sure enough, Farrel lay on the floor, and he wasn’t even beginning to twitch. He must have tied one on for his natural werewolf healing not to kick in and get him up and moving again.
    “Hey, Tate.” Rosie waved from behind the bar. “You want a beer to celebrate?”
    “Nah. Beer leads to dancing and dancing leads to ass-kicking.” He winked, then scanned the long, scarred up bar for the new guy. There, with his back to the room, shoulders held stiffly, setting himself deliberately apart from the proceedings. Those broad shoulders, encased in a deep blue plaid flannel, could block the light if you got them at the right angle.
    The hair stood up on the back of Tate’s neck and it wasn’t the only part of him to rise to attention. This guy had some serious primal energy.
    Those shoulders stiffened up even more and the man whirled around, eyes moving over everyone in the room, stopping when the bright green gaze landed on Tate. The long, high-bridged nose worked, obviously scenting the air.
    Tate stared back, not challenging, just unable to look away.
    “He says he’s not taking the job,” Rosie said, making them both glance at her, which broke the weird spell.
    “No? That’s a shame.” Tate walked over and nudged Farrel with his boot. “We need to take this one to the edge of town before he wakes up and dump him.”
    “Seriously?” Mr. Not Alpha said.
    “You beat him. You choose not to be our Alpha, fine, but you appoint your successor. Anyone but him.” Tate crossed his arms over his chest, his ears going red hot from standing up once again and saying what everyone else was thinking.
    “Why not you?” The guy had this luxurious dark beard, more bear than wolf. God, he made Tate want to offer up his belly and privates for a sniff.
    “Oh, Tate may look big and strong,” Rosie said. “But he’s not Alpha material at all.”
    Now his cheeks flamed to match his ears. “Thanks,” he told Rosie, sotto voce. “She’s right, though. I tried several times to get Farrel gone and failed.”
    “Wow.” The guy looked from Farrel to him and back several times. “Okay. Who would you recommend, then?”
    The whole room went still, waiting to see what Tate said, and he wasn’t about to go there. “Someone help me get Farrel to his truck. Orrin, you’ll have to call a town meeting. The elders are best suited to make this decision.”
    “I’m assuming you want me to attend this town meeting?” The big guy raised a brow, waiting.
    “I hope you have a half hour or so, yeah.”
    “I’ll help you carry him out.” The guy threw back his beer and tossed a twenty on the bar. Then he came and hoisted Farrel up on his shoulder like some kind of fantasy fireman. “Lead the way.”
    “Uh. Cool.” They worked their way through the crowd, then stepped out into another one. The less rowdy folks outside parted for them like the Red Sea, and they made it to Farrel’s truck in moments.
    “I’ll need his keys,” Tate said. He wrinkled his nose, because he didn’t