The two nude alpha werewolves fought to be the most dominant, the one to mate and breed with the female leader of the Blakemore pack.

Sounds of flesh smacking hard flesh echoed through the ballroom of the Blakemore Ranch as Richard Armador and Aiden Mitchell battled on the elegant parquet floor. Overhead two lead crystal chandeliers spilled golden light upon the sparring males.

As dictated by law, the men had removed their clothing to fight naked, to show they had no concealed weapons. The female alpha had the right to see the merchandise, so to speak. See exactly how much power and strength she’d be taking into her bed.

Perched on a gilded throne, Nia Blakemore watched the men fight. In this arena of blood and violence, hardened Lupine alpha warriors battled to lay claim to the female alpha’s lands, her pack, and her body. She felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap with tension.

Alpha males from eight packs had been formally invited. Now the strongest two males remained. Of course one was Aiden. The fiend had been chasing her for years, warning her he’d eventually catch her and make her his.

He’d bought the mortgage on her ranch to force her into declaring this challenge. Bastard. If she hadn’t hosted the challenge, he could have foreclosed on her property.

And yet, as arrogant as Mitchell was, he still turned her on. Especially now.

Nia’s heart raced as the two men fought. She was their prize, and the males fought in the most primitive of ancient Lupine rites. Then the guilt set in. Neither realized her big secret.

They thought she was Nikita, the rightful alpha of the Blakemore pack. The males who wanted her didn’t know she was Nia, the younger twin, the one who’d assumed her sister’s identity from infancy.

Her admiring gaze swept over Aiden as the alphas drew close to the throne and Aiden punched his rival. Sweat dampened his thick black hair, slicked his hard body and droplets clung to the dark hairs of his chest. His skin was golden and tanned, gleaming beneath the light of the twin crystal chandeliers. As fine as smooth, chiseled marble, his powerful body flexed as he danced around his opponent. The taut globes of his ass came into view as he spun around, using his long legs to kick Richard and throw him off balance.

The males were driven by the instinctive need to mate and breed. It was basic biology, the dominating male werewolf’s drive to spread his seed and sire offspring to rule after him. In this rugged region of Montana, male werewolves outnumbered females. The Blakemore pack with its abundance of unmated and fertile females was a prize for these two virile males to claim.

But first, she had to make sure the boys played by the rules.

Nia’s sharpened gaze swept the assembled werewolves. A scowling Lupine in a green silk shirt leaned against a faded tapestry. Her eyes narrowed. Definitely hiding something behind his back.

Nia removed the honed dagger hanging from the diamond-studded belt on her white velvet robes. The fight took the males closer to the crowd hovering by the west wall. Aiden punched Richard hard, sending the alpha male crashing down. As the leader of the Mitchell pack leaned over his opponent, Silk Shirt detached from the wall and raised his hand.

Light caressed the gleaming steel blade he held over Aiden.

She stood and flung her dagger. It sailed through the air and sank deep into Silk Shirt’s wrist, pinning him to the wall. He screamed and dropped the switchblade.

She’d taught herself that move years ago, perfecting it to protect the pack females from lusty males.

Richard stood, wiping blood streaming into his eyes. He growled at the offender, snapped his fingers. Two males rushed forward to obey.

“Bring him outside and guard him. He’ll be dealt with later,” he ordered. “He knew the rules. No weapons. No assistance from pack.”

Silk Shirt whimpered as Richard’s men pulled the dagger from his wrist and lifted him under the arms.

“Wait,” Aiden ordered.

He took Nia’s blade. The dagger arced, slicing the air and then the male’s throat. As the werewolf burbled his last gasp, Aiden used the dying man’s shirt to wipe the blade clean.

No mercy on those ruthless features as Aiden twirled the blade.

“Dealt with,” he said.

Inside, Nia shivered at his ruthlessness, though she agreed with the action. Werewolves battling for power in this brutal challenge searched for any display of weakness. Aiden couldn’t ignore such a blatant insult by Richard’s pack. Nia returned to the throne and smoothed out her expression to show no trace of emotion. Nothing to incite the 200 plus assembled males from both packs to disregard the rules and engage in an all-out war they couldn’t afford.

The Blakemore pack could barely defend themselves, a fact Nia had desperately hidden. They needed strong males to help protect their territory. And they were all going hungry, for the ranch had lost too much income in the past year. Even game in their forest was scarce.

The fighting males thought they would win the Blakemore alpha female as a mate, the entire Blakemore pack to call their own, and the Blakemore Ranch as a nice bonus.

They didn’t realize she wasn’t an alpha female, there were only females left in the Blakemore pack, and the ranch was stricken with disease that killed all males of shapeshifting age.

Nia drew in a trembling breath, hoping the fight would end soon. The longer all these males remained on her land, the more nervous she became. Hurry up and finish. Then, please, go home and stay safe. This place is cursed.

Roxanne Valmont, the Blakemore pack beta, retrieved the dagger as Richard’s men rushed the dead werewolf outside. Aiden nodded to Nia, touching his forehead in a gesture of respect, then resumed the battle with Richard.

Nia didn’t know how the hell they’d resolve this mess. After she and her twin were born 25 years ago, their father had insisted there was only one living girl born to the Blakemore alpha pair. Nikita had been hidden, for it was prophesied in their family that the eldest girl twin born on the seventh day of the seventh month belonged to the Silver Wizard. He would come for her after she lived 25 years, and take her to his home in Tir Na-nog, the afterworld, to become his bride. And she would die, for no mortal being survived in the afterworld.

The twins had traded places to let Nikita out once in a while, but only their aunt Mandy, close friend Roxanne and a few elder females in the pack realized they were twins.

It was an effective ruse they’d managed to pull off up until now.

Nia gripped the armrests as Aiden moved on the floor, his actions smooth and flowing as he ducked Richard’s punch. Richard was smooth arrogance, a blond charmer who came from wealth and privilege. Adding his lands to theirs would make his domain even more powerful.

Sex with him would be bland and dutiful. Safe.

Not so with dark-haired Aiden, with his wide shoulders and heavily-muscled body. Raw and untamed, he fought as if the idea of bedding her drove him to a mating frenzy. Sweat dripped down his temples as he slammed Richard against the wall.

A very female part of her appreciated the flex of powerful biceps, the thick muscles dividing his back. Not an ounce of fat on him, not on the ripped abdomen, the narrow hips or his strong limbs.

Her gaze darted down to the thick thatch of black hair at his groin. At rest, his penis was impressive. Big, like Aiden himself. The thought of taking all that male hardness into her untried body, feeling him move over her as they consummated their union…

The flush of arousal filled her as she watched the powerful werewolf fight. She’d fantasized about the male in the dark night, wondering what he’d be like as a lover.

Aiden fought for her sister’s hand, not hers. He fought to mate with the alpha of the Blakemore pack and technically, her older twin was the alpha.

I am pretending to be someone I am not. A leader, an alpha like he is. My whole life has been based upon a lie to keep Niki hidden.

But after masquerading as her twin for all these years, she wished someone could see her for herself. Love her as an individual, not as the Lupine they knew as Nikita Blakemore.

The grunts and groans of the two sparring males echoed through the ballroom. Her peripheral vision caught sight of her aunt Mandy entering the ballroom. Nia’s heart pounded hard with every click of Mandy’s boot heels across the parquet floor.

Upon reaching the throne, Mandy whispered into her ear. Nia stiffened.

“Now?” Nia asked.

Mandy nodded at the fighting men. “Now, before the fight is finished and one of them wins.”

She released a sharp breath and followed her aunt out of the ballroom, away from the crescendo of male grunts and the crack of a fist slamming into muscle. Razor sharp fear surged. She wasn’t certain how much longer she and her twin could carry on this ruse.

Things had dragged on far too long. And soon, she would have to pay the price.