“And if my faith is shattered?”
“You can’t allow fear to give you those doubts. That’s the thing about faith. You must believe with your whole heart and not doubt it. There’s a human saying that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. If you believe it, even without proof of its existence, then that’s faith.”
Jillian’s eyes burned and she swallowed back tears. “So all I have to do is believe that Bishop will win any challenge, and he will?”
“If that’s the faith you choose.”
That wasn’t an answer, but the idea of it gave Jillian hope. Real hope for the first time in days. “I can do that.” Keeping faith in Bishop, in her future with him, would keep her focused during the days to come. Help her be strong for him no matter what. “He’ll win. Bishop will win. He’ll be Alpha of Cornerstone.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I have faith in that.”
“Good girl.”
“Thank you.” Jillian allowed a brief hug from the woman who’d looked after her since her birth. “I should find Bishop. Let him know what’s happening with Knight.”
“It’s a good turn, I expect. If anyone can bring him back, it’s Shay.”
“I hope so.” She truly did. Jillian had never known a feral loup to come back whole. If anyone deserved to be the first and to have a second chance at life, it was Knight McQueen.
Colin Corman arrived in Cornerstone at one-thirty that afternoon. Bishop received a text from Devlin the moment he intercepted the visitor’s car and directed him into the auction house parking lot. Bishop had spent the minute or so it would take to walk from the parking lot upstairs to the office fussing over where to sit. He’d yet to sit down in his father’s chair, even to take calls from the other Alphas. Using the chair while dealing with Colin would set a precedent.
Actually sitting in it was the problem.
He flexed his right arm, pleased to feel only a slight twinge deep in the bone. Dr. Mike had supervised another shift two hours earlier, which had helped to completely set the bone, heal the muscles, and allow him to ditch the bandage. He wouldn’t be lifting any small children today, but he also couldn’t show any weakness in front of Colin.
Four sets of footsteps thumped up the stairs. Bishop repositioned himself behind his father’s desk, the chair pushed back by the window. He’d left the office door slightly open. Devlin rapped his knuckles on the frame twice, then walked inside, followed by a trio of strangers. They brought with them a waft of sage. Devlin stood to the side of the desk, hands clasped behind his back, at attention. The same stance Bishop had taken countless times over the years along with Rook and the other enforcers.
The stranger who stepped forward was about Bishop’s height, with a slimmer build and hair so blond it was almost white. All three men had pale hair, just like his mother had. Probably a common element of the Rockpoint loup. Most of the loup in Cornerstone had the same dark brown hair.
The scent of sage tickled Bishop’s nose.
“Bishop McQueen, I presume,” the blond man said. “I’m Colin Corman from Rockpoint.”
“Welcome to Cornerstone, Mr. Corman.” Bishop didn’t shake the man’s hand, because he hadn’t offered. Colin hesitated, his gaze sliding to the left. He seemed as shaky on procedure as Bishop. Interesting. “I was told you’d be coming.”
Colin’s jaw muscles worked. He stood confidently, hands loose by his sides, but something was off. “I, Colin Corman, son of Alpha Burt Corman, have come to officially challenge you for the position of Alpha of the Cornerstone run.”
“Challenge to death or to defeat?” Alpha Weatherly had given him a few helpful hints about how to go about this part.
Colin blinked as though the question confused him. Bishop couldn’t help wondering what sort of information he’d been given by his father. “To the death.” The statement was almost a question.
Bishop’s insides squirmed. His heart pounded harder. No going back. “Challenge accepted.”
Devlin shifted his weight, his eyebrows furrowing into a deep scowl.
“My companions,” Colin said, as though just remembering them. “Luke and Tanner Westfeld. Two of my father’s enforcers.”
“Welcome.” Bishop glanced at Devlin. “Devlin Burke, one of our enforcers. I apologize that my brother Rook wasn’t available to meet you when you arrived.”
“From what I’m told, you have a lot on your plate right now. If there’s anything we can do to help while we’re here, please ask.”
The offer sounded oddly genuine, given Colin’s reason for coming to Cornerstone had added even more to Bishop’s overloaded plate. “Gratitude, Mr. Corman.”
“I hope it doesn’t break protocol for us to use first names. If you’re so inclined.”
“Colin, then.” Bishop didn’t want these sage-scented strangers in his father’s house, but protocol demanded he ask. “I’d like to invite you and your enforcers to stay in our family home.”
“Do you have room? Your resources seem a bit stretched.”
“Well, our boarding house is full of refugees, and most other spare beds are being used as well. We have one free bedroom with two twins, if you don’t mind sharing. We can add a cot, or bunk your enforcers with someone else.”
Colin relaxed a bit, going so far as to almost smile. “Luke and Tanner aren’t here as bodyguards. I don’t expect to be in any real danger in town.”
“You’re smack in the middle of a war with a pair of psychopaths. Everyone in town is in danger right now. But point taken.”
“With permission,” Devlin said, “your men can stay at my house. I live with my cousin Winston and his parents, and there’s a pull-out sofa in the den. They won’t mind.”
Colin looked back at his men, who both nodded their agreement. “Thank you. Devin?”
“Devlin. And it’s no trouble.”
Bishop couldn’t catch Devlin’s eye but he had a pretty good idea that Devlin wanted to keep a personal eye on the strangers. He appreciated the silent support more than he could say. “It’s settled then. Dev, if you’d like to show Luke and Tanner where they’re staying, I’ll take Colin over to the house.”
As the office cleared out, Bishop followed. He shut the door behind him, keenly aware that he had managed not to sit in his father’s chair.
After fetching overnight bags from the car, they headed into town. The three strangers earned a lot of attention as the quintet walked down the sidewalk. No one was outwardly rude, but Bishop could imagine the hostile thoughts. By now word had spread about the challenge. At the end of the block, Devlin kept going across the street with his new shadows in tow. Bishop turned left onto the street toward home.
“You have a lovely town,” Colin said. He kept stride, somehow managing to keep up and not walk into anything as his attention was bouncing all over the place.
“Thank you.”
“It’s quite different from Rockpoint, even though we’re up in the mountains, too. The homes here are much more colonial.”
“That’s because the town was built in those days. We’re at least a century older than Rockpoint.”
“True.”
Bishop crossed the quiet street, making a wide angle toward the walkway to the house. He’d have never known that twenty-four hours ago this street had been glutted with wounded, scared loup needing help and refuge. The faintest odor of blood still lingered in the air and would wash away after the first good rain.
The front door opened, expelling Rook and Jillian onto the porch. They waited side by side as Bishop led Colin up the path. Bishop introduced everyone. Rook shook Colin’s hand with a firm grip that punctuated the dislike blaring from his face. Colin didn’t seem to know quite what to make of him. Scars, tattoos, one earlobe missing, the other plugged with a steel gauge.
Colin took more interest in Jillian, who shook his hand with a cool detachment that made Bishop’s beast rumble with appreciation. Colin may have been sizing up who he considered his future wife, but she was Bishop’s. Period.
“Colin will be staying in the extra room on the third floor,” Bishop said. “His companions are staying with the Burkes.”
“I’ll show him the way,” Rook said to Bishop. “Dinner’s at five-thirty. Mrs. Troost is making extra for our guests.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as he was alone with Jillian on the porch, he stepped closer. Breathed in her apple blossom scent, eager to rid his nose of the stink of sage. She smiled at him with so much warmth that he had to shove his hands into his pockets so he didn’t reach for her. Pull her into his arms and kiss her silly.
“You seem strangely happy when the man who intends to kill me in a few days has just landed on my doorstep,” he said.
Jillian tried to wipe the smile away. “Sorry. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just have faith that you’ll beat all comers, that’s all. Faith in the future of our run.”
Our run. He liked the sound of that. “I’m glad you have faith in me. I need every advantage I can get.”
“Colin doesn’t look so tough.”
“He certainly doesn’t strike me as the swaggering, something-to-prove type. There’s something odd about the man.”
“Well, he’s crazy enough to challenge you for the run.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Bishop inched closer, within arm’s reach. “Earlier, he seemed surprised when I asked if the challenge was to death or defeat, as if he hadn’t been told that defeat was an option.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “That’s strange. You’d assume his father would have given him all of the pertinent details.” She blinked hard. “So he chose to death?”
“Yes.” Some amount of energy fled him. Bishop sank into one of the wicker armchairs. “I’ve already killed another run’s Alpha. How do I get my head around killing an Alpha’s son? There’s been enough damned killing this last month.”
Jillian perched on the edge of the chair next to his, angled toward him. A breeze blew her hair across her face, bringing her scent to his nose. He inhaled, enjoying her proximity. He never imagined something as simple as being close to a woman could bring him such peace.
“There has been enough killing,” she said. “Any man who would choose to challenge you right now is an opportunistic bastard. Cornerstone needs you. You. Not a stranger who has no idea the enemy we’re dealing with.”
“I agree.”
“Wait.” Her lips twitched. “You said ‘killing an Alpha’s son’ just now.”
“I did.”
“So you have faith that you’ll win?”
He held her gaze, feeding on the strength he saw in her eyes. “I have to. Otherwise I’ll lose, and I have too much at stake. I can’t lose. I won’t.”
“Even if it means letting Rook fight as your second?”
Surprise hit him in the face like ice water. “What?”
“We’ve been talking—”
“You and Rook? You’ve been talking about this challenge behind my back?”
Color rose in her cheeks, even while anger sparked in her eyes. “Yes. Because we both care about you, and we want you as Alpha.”
“I told you why I won’t let someone fight for me.”
“Of course, right, your pride.”
“This isn’t about pride.”
“Isn’t it? Now that you’ve met him, can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me you’re certain you can beat Colin Corman? To death, Bishop, not simply into submission.”
“I killed Mitch Geary three weeks ago.”
“That was self-defense. He was going to kill Rook. And you were shifted. This fight is skin.”
Bishop had grown up with every expectation of being Alpha one day and had trained with that goal in mind. The kidnapping when he was ten and his subsequent injuries had put him on a path of self-defense training from the day Dr. Mike released him from bed rest. In the twenty-two years since, he’d never lost a physical fight with another man. Human or loup. Black or Gray.
He’d put Knight and Rook through the same physical training, determined they would all be safe from any enemy. None of them had anticipated the hybrids. Not their speed, their strength, or the psychopathic lengths they’d go to in order to achieve their goals. Bishop wouldn’t put money on himself in a physical one-on-one with Desiree, but he wouldn’t back down from a brawl with another loup.
He had too much to fight for.
“Look, maybe we shouldn’t have been discussing the challenge behind your back,” Jillian said. “But put your pride aside for moment. If Rook fights Colin and wins, you’re Alpha. If Rook fights Colin and loses, you can step in and finish it, which means going up against a very tired, probably very wounded man. You’ll win with ease, and then you’re Alpha.”
Anger stirred deep in his chest. “Did you hear yourself? If Rook fights Colin and loses? Losing means he’s dead, Jillian. I won’t make my brother a sacrificial lamb just so my fight is easier to win. No.”
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
“Do you have any real idea what my brothers mean to me? Probably not, seeing as you don’t have siblings. You don’t know what it’s like to watch them grow up. To know you’re their big brother and that you’re responsible for keeping them safe. To fail at it over and over again. I won’t deliberately put Rook in harm’s way.”
Jillian’s expression darkened, her lips flat and tight. She was pissed, and he didn’t care. Not in that moment. He was angry, too. Angry, frustrated, and so uncertain of the decisions he was making.
“I may not have blood siblings,” she said, fire coating her quiet voice, “but I do know what it feels like to lose a part of yourself.”
“We both lost our fathers.”
“Yes, we did.” She stood up, stiff-limbed. His beast stirred beneath the force of her fury, disliking its strength. Determined to fix it. She leaned down, her straight hair curtaining her cold face. “We’ve both lost our parents, Bishop, but only I know what it feels like to lose a child.”
She stalked off the porch and was halfway down the pathway before her words sank in. Bishop stared at her back, stunned stupid by the cold statement and abrupt departure. He’d known Jillian by name only until a few weeks ago, but her husband’s death two years ago hadn’t been a secret. No one had ever mentioned the pair having a child. The birth of an heir to an Alpha was a big deal and not something kept hidden from the other runs.
Her grief over the deaths of the half-breed children and the Jones child came into sharp perspective. She’d been heartbroken. Several times over the last few days he’d noticed her holding her belly, as though protecting herself from some sort of pain. She took it all personally because she’d lost a child at some point.
The question haunting him was when? How?
Tracking Jillian down and asking was likely to get him punched in the mouth, but he didn’t like the idea of going behind her back and asking someone else from Springwell. He’d just gotten on her about her little powwow with Rook. And they might not tell him anyway, citing it as none of his business.
No, he’d rather risk a split lip than her not trusting him. Especially about something as huge as this. He’d give her a few hours to collect herself—probably all he could manage before his curiosity went into overdrive.
Rook ejected from the front door, a cloud of annoyance following him to the other side of the porch. He leaned against the rail, hands gripping the top, the muscles in his arms flexing.
“Accommodations not up to par?” Bishop asked.
Rook jerked sideways, apparently so caught up he hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone. “He didn’t have anything to say about the room.”
He stood and crossed to Rook’s side of the porch, hoping to keep as much of their conversation private as he could in an open space. “What did he have something to say about?”