Becca’s brows knotted and she looked from Lucilla to the others at the council table. “What solution? I’ve already made my choice and it’s Jaylon Ross. My cat wants him, and so do I. Case closed.”

“The case isn’t closed, Becca. Far from it.”

She whirled on her heel at the familiar voice. “Alastair.” His name was barely a whisper on her lips as she stared at the man’s face.

Man. Ha! Alastair Reece was barely ten years old when she met his brother Nick at a scenting ceremony all those years ago.

“How dare you show your face here! You killed my brother!” She spun, swinging an accusatory hand toward the council. “And you! Why don’t you just spit on my father’s grave! On Charlie’s grave!”

Lucilla stood. “Calm yourself, child. No one here has any love for Alastair Reece or his claim to be the ragtag Prime of the Wind River Pride. A position he took by force, no doubt.”

Becca’s eyes narrowed at the man. “Prime, is it? And how many of the old Prime’s family had to die to bring about this claim to fame, you lowlife runt?” She snorted. “Well, it looks like you finally got what you wanted.”

Alastair shook his head. “Not everything, but we are about to rectify that.”

“What are you really doing here, Alastair?” Her words were clipped. “Haven’t you hurt us enough?”

“I’ve come to collect my claim, Becca. Surely you can’t deny that you and my brother Nick were mated? You wear his mark on your neck.”

“Nick is dead, Alastair. He’s been dead for twelve years. Your family exacted your revenge on me and my family when you tried to push this same issue with my brother. Charlie threw you out on your ass then and I have every intention of doing the same now.”

Alastair laughed and the sound was cruel. “With what army? Your males are either senior citizens or cubs. I saw to that when I last visited.”

“You raided our homes and murdered our men.” Anger bubbling in her chest, she stalked toward him, shoving him back. “Get out before I shred you myself!” Heat skittered across Becca’s skin and a feral snarl left her throat as claws ripped through her fingertips. She lunged and one swipe left Alastair’s smug expression dripping blood.

“You bitch!” Angry eyes flashed, but he held himself in check. With a snide set to his jaw, he ripped his sleeve from his shoulder and pressed it to his bloody cheek, his gaze a scheming, greedy flicker.

Alastair slid his eyes to Lucilla as she pressed her fingers into the table. “Like you, I had hoped Becca would be willing to negotiate, but after this—” he lifted the bloody rag from his face. “Do you want to tell your Prowl Leader or should I?”

The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “You bastard! That ruling is two hundred years old.”

“Doesn’t matter. I claim it, nonetheless.”

Becca pushed her cat down and sucked in a breath, her gaze flying between Alastair and Lucilla. “What are you two babbling about? What ruling?”

“The Levirate. It’s sort of a right of first refusal,” the elder answered.

Becca snorted. “If that means I have the right to be the first to refuse whatever bullshit this conniving murderer is trying to sell, then count me as a hell no!”

Alastair’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll let you have your moment, Becca, but I will have what’s mine, and that includes you.”

“This game is old, little boy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still the sniveling ten-year-old that cried when he didn’t get his way. Get out, Alastair, while you still can. One phone call is all it will take to remove you from our territory permanently.”

He chuckled. “If you mean your wolf and his pack, I wouldn’t be so quick to assume, Becca.” Alastair leaned back on the council table. “Who do you think contacted me about your pending alliance? Not everyone in the Deep Water pack is as thrilled with their Alpha mating a cat as you’d like to think.”

Inhaling, Alastair’s smirk faded. “Why don’t you put your talented tongue to use and give yourself a bath? There’s nothing worse than a cat that stinks like the dog that had her.”

Becca jumped to lunge again, but Lyssa held her.

“My child—” a gravelly voice began, only to cut short in a serious cough.

She forced her eyes from Alastair’s smug face to turn toward the oldest of their council. Jasper Crowe was frail and wheelchair bound, but his gaze was bright and full of knowledge. He was beloved and well respected and even Alastair straightened at the man’s soft but commanding voice.

Becca poured the old man a glass of water and moved to place it in his gnarled fingers. “I’m sorry you had to witness my lapse in decorum, Jasper.”

The timeworn elder shook his head, his eyes almost invisible inside the layers of wrinkles. “You are your mother’s daughter, Becca. Fire and ice and everything nice.” This time he coughed out a wheezy chuckle.

“The Levirate is an old rule made when shifter clans were young and needed to breed,” he continued. “It is a rule that gives a man the right of first refusal in mating his brother’s widow. It is something I never thought to see again. You cannot fight this fight, my child. I wish you could, as much as I think your wolf would be the better choice for you…and for us.”

Lucilla’s gaze snapped to the wheelchair-bound man. “Her wolf is the better choice? Why the sudden change of heart and mind, Jasper? After all these years?”

Becca watched the interchange with a strange feeling she missed something unsaid between them.

Jasper blinked at the woman, his milky gaze soft. “Sometimes old leopards can change their spots, my dear. Even if it takes fifty years.”

Becca stared at them. “Lucilla, please. Who cares why Jasper changed his mind? It doesn’t change my choice.” She shifted her regard to the old man. “With all due respect, Jasper, I will fight this rule with everything I am. I will never acquiesce to mate the man who killed my brother!”

Jasper shook his head. “Then it will be a blood challenge.”

Becca’s eyes assessed Alastair, her mind running the odds in her head before turning back to Jasper. “And if I die in the fight, is it my right to name my successor?”

Jasper’s mouth opened and he reached for her cheek. “No, my child. The blood challenge is not for you to fight.”

Confused, she looked at him for an answer. “If not me, then who?”

His old eyes found hers and he nodded. “Your wolf.”