CHAPTER SIX

 

 

It was early in the morning, and the day was still decidedly cool, but inside the Den’s expansive gym, Baron stripped off his t-shirt, feeling sweat dripping down his back as he tossed it to the side of the room to land in a damp heap. Facing him on the mats, already shirtless and sweating, stood Silas, his form lithe and perfectly balanced as he got ready for the next round. Though Baron outranked him, Silas had always been the better fighter, and his smooth grace and light-footed style made Baron feel slow and awkward.

The exercise of the day was a full-contact sparring match, Andre, Silas and Baron all having decided it was high time they tested out their skills on each other to make sure none of them were getting sloppy with their training. Andre was watching the current round, making a careful study of both fighters’ styles to give pointers later on.

But it was more than a simple sparring match, as the three of them were also taking the time to discuss the niggling problem of Tank’s departure and the resultant gap it had left in the pack. Currently, Silas was ranked as second in command after Caroline, but he’d made it clear, both in the past and again just yesterday, that he had absolutely no intention of becoming the male alpha if anything happened to Baron.

The problem was that there was no one else who could, for quite a way down the pecking order. After Silas was Andre, who likewise had said he didn’t want the responsibility, regardless of the fact that the pack would easily fall in behind him, in the event of Baron’s death. He might take on the role temporarily as an emergency fill-in, he’d offered, but long term, they needed to find another option.

After Andre was John, who was far too unstable for the role, then Alistair, whose job keeping the media off their tails was too important to consider promoting him up the ranks – if he was even interested in it, which Baron strongly suspected he wasn’t. Then there was Simon, who was the same age as Baron and far too introverted to be interested in leading the pack.

“Miller’s capable of doing the job,” Baron said, as he faced off against Silas, enjoying the physical exertion of their training.

Silas snorted as he took an experimental swing at Baron’s head. “Forget it. He’s only just joined the pack, and he’s got a long way to go before he gets his head around our culture. And he’d have an uphill battle to get anyone to follow him anyway. Too much resentment.” He ducked as Baron swung at him, dropped to the floor, then kicked Baron’s legs out from under him.

Baron cursed as he hit the mat. He might be stronger than Silas, but the man had always been able to best him with speed. He got up, ready to go again.

“The way I hear it,” Andre said, stepping sideways to avoid getting in the way, “Mark used to be a serious contender.”

Baron shook his head, sending sweat flying from his hair. “The Council banned him from ever holding the rank.”

Andre made a sound of annoyance – that detail must have slipped his mind for the moment – and sighed. “Well, below Simon, you’ve got Kwan, then Cohen. Aaron’s got completely the wrong temperament, and George is too old. So it’s got to be one of those two.”

Baron’s attention was suddenly taken up blocking Silas’s rapid-fire blows, and before he knew it, he’d been thrown backwards, landing with a thud on the mat.

Silas bounced a couple of times on his toes, then shook out his arms. “You want to have a go with the Flash here?” he asked, nodding at Andre, and Baron rolled his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. If he thought Silas was fast, then Andre was like quicksilver. But that wasn’t the only reason Baron needed to play it cool when going up against their resident assassin. Without a shirt on, Andre looked like a Greek demi-god, chiselled muscle on a perfectly proportioned frame, shoulder-length hair and a goatee giving him a rugged look. While Baron had absolutely no designs on him, his natural attraction to the male form was busy reminding him how very solid those muscles would be and how enticing he would smell after a thorough workout. Thankfully, both men seemed oblivious to his internal disquiet, as Silas headed to the side while Andre came forward, and then the conversation picked up again.

“Kwan is only two years younger than Mark,” Silas pointed out, watching as the bout began. “I tend to think of him as still being a teenager, but he’s grown up a lot since he came here.”

“I think the difference between his background and Mark’s always made him seem younger,” Baron said, dodging a blow and trying to remember what Andre had taught him the last time they’d done this. “When Kwan and Aaron arrived here, they’d been dealing with their final year at high school and trying to dodge overprotective parents. Mark had spent the better part of a year coming to terms with his own impending death. That kind of shit changes you.”

“Kwan’s what, twenty-six, twenty-seven now?” Andre asked. “That’s more than old enough to start taking on some serious responsibility. Hell, you were only twenty-seven yourself when you became alpha, weren’t you?”

Baron snarled and blocked a blow aimed at his throat, the impact jarring his arm from wrist to elbow. “Ignoring the fact that I was thrown headfirst into an enormous shit-storm, my childhood was plenty different from Kwan’s. I’m not convinced he’s got the skill to lead a pack.”

“He’s got plenty of diplomacy,” Andre disagreed, grabbing Baron’s arm and twisting it behind his back. He held him immobile for a moment, then let him go, ready to begin again. “Everyone in the Den likes him.”

“And he’s got the dedication to improve his combat skills, start climbing the ranks,” Silas added. “I’m not saying he’s ready to step into Tank’s shoes tomorrow. But I do think it would be relatively easy to train him for it. Two years from now, I could see him earning some serious respect from the rest of the Den.”

“Stop taking it so bloody easy on me,” Baron complained, suddenly aware that Andre hadn’t thrown him onto the mats, or tripped him, or landed any serious blows aside from that one hold so far. “I’m not here for a damned frolic among the tulips!”

“Fine.” A split second later, Andre had kicked Baron’s legs out from beneath him, landing him face first on the mat, then spun effortlessly to land on top of him, pulling his arm back and rendering him helpless and immobile. “Feel better now?”

“Much,” Baron agreed, breathing hard, his face squished into the mat as he waited for Andre to get off him. Andre stood up, then offered Baron his hand.

“All right, then. Kwan,” Andre said, not making any immediate move to begin the fight again. “I see two serious problems with that. One: Aaron. Those two have been stuck together like glue since they both came here as teenagers. If we drag Kwan up the ladder to become alpha, Aaron’s going to be left behind in more ways than one.”

“Does anyone know if they’re...” Silas made a vague gesture with his hands, which, given how well Baron knew his Den, wasn’t hard to interpret.

“Gay?” he asked bluntly. “I know Kwan’s not. Aaron, I’m not so sure. I think Kwan knows Aaron’s got feelings for him – I’m not entirely sure how deep those feelings go – and so far, he’s avoided finding a girlfriend to spare Aaron. As he gets older... I don’t know. Sooner or later, he’s going to have to make a decision to walk his own path. In a way, we may be doing him a favour by making it about rank, rather than about love.”

“I think all we can do there is give Kwan the option,” Silas said. “It’s still got to be his choice. And he’s too smart not to see the implications. What’s the second problem?” he asked Andre, and Baron knew from the way Andre suddenly glanced sideways at him what the answer was going to be.

“John,” Andre said flatly. “If Kwan’s going to become 2IC, he’s going to have to get past John in the pecking order to do it. Now, I’m perfectly willing to give him some combat lessons; I’d be volunteering for that even if John wasn’t an issue. But even with training, Kwan’s not likely to be a match for him.”

Baron sighed and rubbed his face. Then he paced across the room, throwing a few experimental blows at the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. “You know why he won’t move from his rank?” he asked Andre, and sure enough, Andre proved himself yet again smart enough to have figured things out with minimal additional information.

“He’s protecting Heron,” Andre said. “He won’t challenge her to a fight, and he’s strong enough that no one who ranks below him will ever get past him to challenge her. Unless he lets them.”

Baron nodded, wondering if he should be feeling guilty for having allowed the situation to go on for as long as it had. “In John’s mind, strength equals power. And given where he came from, it’s easy to understand how he reached that conclusion. But in a wolf pack, rank comes with responsibility, the duty to care for those weaker than you. John’s never managed to put the two things together in his head.”

“So somebody’s got to talk him down,” Andre concluded stiffly.

Baron cringed, already knowing what was coming. “He’s not going to listen to me,” he said apologetically. Once, he might have been able to get through to the boy, but the way things stood now, any attempt by him to get John to give way was only going to make him dig his heels in even harder.

“I know,” Andre said, an easy capitulation. “Let me think on it for a couple of days. I’ll figure out a way to broach the subject with him. But get ready for a couple of tantrums. I think John’s going to make his displeasure known before he finally gets his head around the idea.”

“You know he looks up to you, don’t you?” Silas said. “In John’s world, strength is everything. And you’re quite possibly the only person on this estate who can beat him in a fight.”

“Aside from Baron,” Andre pointed out quickly.

But Silas shook his head. “He lets Baron win. Because he respects him. Or he has done, up until now. Tell me you knew that,” he said suddenly, his tone sharp as he caught the look of astonishment on Baron’s face. Then he swore when it was clear that Baron didn’t. “Bloody hell, Baron, where that kid is concerned you have a real tendency to stick your head up your own arse, you know that?” He muttered something to himself, then apologised. “I’m sorry. I’m not serving you up a dose of the truth just to be an arsehole, okay? But John’s causing some serious problems in the ranking system, and if we’re going to deal with them sensibly, we need to be looking at cold hard reality, no matter how unpleasant it might be.”

“So you’re saying I’m in with a chance at convincing him,” Andre jumped in quickly to break the tension, “because I’m someone he can genuinely respect without having to second-guess himself.”

“Right,” Silas agreed, relieved that he’d made his point and could shut up now.

“Glad we got that settled,” Baron said, coming back to the mats, more than ready to have another go at beating up one of his pack mates. “Now all we have to do is get Kwan to agree to the whole damn crazy plan.”