Viktor shared a look with his packmates before he jerked his chin toward the tram. They filed in, leaving him and his mate alone in the hangar.
He turned to look at her and found Camille already staring up at him, her face ashen and her lips pressed into a thin, determined line. Fear stole the fire from her eyes. Viktor’s chest ached.
Cupping her jaw with both hands, he nuzzled the soft, fragrant hair just above her forehead and whispered, “Everything will be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Why isn’t there a way out of this? I have a terrible feeling about this. My gut says it’s going to go bad, Vik. Why does it have to be you again?” Her breath hitched. Clutching his t-shirt with trembling fists, she rasped, “Why can’t it be someone else? I know that I should— I should support you and be proud of your courage, but I don’t give a fuck about pride. I can’t—”
He pressed his lips against hers, silencing her protests with the intimate contact they both craved. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth. “I know, but there’s no other way. If I didn’t have to fight him, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t risk our future for anything.”
He felt a hot tear land on his thumb. “But why does it have to be you?”
“Because I’m the alpha, Cam. It’s my job.”
She was quiet for several heartbeats. Eventually, Camille sucked in a deep breath and shuddered, as if to shake off some terrible feeling. “Okay,” she announced, leaning back to look him in the eye. She still looked queasy, but managed to say what he needed to hear anyway. “Okay, Vik. I support you. You’ll do this and then we’ll go home. Everything is going to be okay. It… it has to be. It just does.”
It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him, but he took her words at face value anyway. If he dove any deeper, the thin veneer of her confidence would shatter, and he couldn’t do that to her.
“My brave, beautiful mate, thank you.” Viktor pressed one last fierce kiss to her lips before he wrapped his arm around her waist and began to walk them toward the tram.
Chin lifted, eyes shining with unshed tears, and dressed to the nines in an elaborate, high-collared emerald green leather coat and stilettos, his mate looked ready to take on the world for him.
Gods willing, she wouldn’t have to.
As soon as they took their seats in the tram, the doors closed with a cheerful chime and the hiss of smooth hydraulics. Camille chose their seats. Nestled between Valen and their packmates, they were completely surrounded by allies as the tram lifted smoothly out of the hangar and took off toward Alliance Landing.
Viktor pushed up the arm rest between them to wrap his arm around her back, while Valen quietly reached across the aisle to hold Camille’s hand. They shared a glance over her head.
There was not a hint of doubt or uncertainty in Valen’s expression.
Gratitude for Valen, for all that he’d done for him, swelled in Viktor’s chest. Without Valen, he might have abandoned his pack as an angry, lost teenager. He never would have learned to fight for himself, to defend others. He never would have become an alpha. He never would have become friends with Theodore.
He never would have met Camille.
Viktor owed the old general everything.
For all of that, it was the least he could do to win this fight, to see it through to the end, and give Camille the love she deserved.
They touched down at Alliance Landing and found a crowd waiting for them.
The air was already hot to the point of discomfort when they stepped out onto the platform. Heat shimmered off of the white, extremely durable material used to make the entire Landing compound, giving the air a shimmering, ethereal look. The sky was a huge, cloudless dome of vivid blue over their heads, and the arms of Alliance Canyon stretched out around them in two ridges of buttery orange and red-flecked brown. A plaque stood proudly beside the landing pad, reminding all who stepped off the tram what the Alliance stood for.
Communication. Cooperation. Courage.
Viktor gazed out at the small crowd assembled on the platform, seeking Andreas.
He stood by where the fight would take place: a faintly etched circle in the center of the platform — several feet away from the perilously unguarded edges, left open for the landing and takeoff of winged shifters, but not anywhere near the tram’s docking zone or the entrance to the building, which sat on the opposite side of the platform.
Andreas stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes bright with the shift and the lines of his body fairly vibrating with rage. Viktor could only imagine what it was the Alliance used to pressure a man like that into the circle.
Viktor expected to feel fury when he looked at the man who nearly killed his mate, but he didn’t feel anything at all. Andreas simply wasn’t worth it. When this was all over, Viktor was certain he wouldn’t spare the bastard a single thought.
Two of Andreas’s packmates stood beside him, their faces grim and lined with the sort of belligerent anger one typically associated with men who made themselves feel big by making others small. Everything in their body language spoke of a threat, but Viktor wasn’t worried about them or particularly surprised by their growling. Only men with death wishes would dare interfere with an alpha-alpha fight.
What did surprise him was the sight of Lee walking out of the shining glass doors of the building with a svelte woman dressed in slim-fitting black athletic gear. Her long black curls were secured in a loose braid down her back and her golden brown skin glowed in the sunlight. Her full lips were pressed into a bloodless line.
Camille shifted closer to his side and whispered under her breath, “Who’s that?”
Benny answered for him. “Lana Andreas.” He shared a bemused look with his alpha. “Her father threw her out of her pack last year for insubordination. What the fuck is she doing here?”
Viktor’s gut tightened with unease. It was never good when unexpected shit came up with these things. They were bad enough without being unpredictable.
Ignoring Andreas for now, he pressed a fleeting kiss to Camille’s temple before he walked over to meet Lee and Lana.
“What’s going on?”
Lee, looking troubled, braced his big hands on his hips and tilted his head toward his companion. “We’ve got a complication.”
Viktor raised his eyebrows. “I see that.”
Lana fixed him with a fathomless look. Her eyes were hazel bordering on a peculiar natural gold, and when she looked at him, he felt like she was trying to peer inside him.
A natural born alpha, she had a presence that immediately raised his hackles. “Alpha Hamilton, I’m here to ask you if you would be willing to cede your place in the circle to me today.”
Viktor stared at her. “You… want to fight your father in my stead?”
“Yes.” It was an unflinching affirmative.
His eyes bounced between the two somber faces, looking for answers. “What is happening here? You do know that this is a death match, right?” Protective rage, summoned by the awful memory of that night on the beach, strained the muscles of his neck when he added, “He tried to have my mate shot.”
Lana was perfectly calm when she answered, “I understand. That is exactly why I’m here.”