Shift Into Me (Werewolf Shifter Romance) (The Alpha's Kiss) by Lynn Red Page B

job and one-horn-missing cow skull that hung on the front door – had seen better days.
    “They’re pissed about something,” Hunter said, stepping off the bike and stretching his lower back with a couple of twists and a toe touch. “These meetings usually get this loud, but not until they’re mostly over and the whiskey comes out.”
    The back of Damon’s head throbbed. If Lily were around, she’d tell him about how aliens put probes in people’s skulls. She’d seen it on one of her shows, and would tell him all about it. Through the haze of irritation, he couldn’t help but smile when he thought of her. She kept him anchored, kept him grounded, even when nothing else would or could.
    “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled. “So much noise. My head doesn’t feel right.”
    “You don’t look so good,” Hunter said. “You feel okay?”
    Damon shook his head. “Started getting a headache as soon as we got off the bike. Maybe slept too long. I don’t—”
    “Why isn’t he doing anything about it? Why do we have an Alpha who can’t even stop some murders?” someone from inside the building was obviously not very happy with Damon’s leadership. “He’s a child ! What kind of a joke is this? Why are we supposed to follow him if he can’t do something as simple as this?”
    Damon turned to Hunter. “Murders? More?”
    Hunter shrugged.
    Even before he went inside, Damon felt the hostility. He took a deep breath, and clenched his jaws tight. “Come on,” he said, looking straight ahead.
    The instant he pushed open the door, the whole place went silent. Every head, of which there were about fifty, turned to look at him. Damon recognized Steve, a couple of others, and the thirty-something werewolf who had tested him the night before. Sweeping his eyes from left to right across the room, he finished with no illusions about the mood in the room.
    “Glad to see you could make it, Alpha.” Someone said, taunting him. “Next time, why not let us know when it’d be convenient for you to have a wolf killed. Another one. What were you doing? I bet you were fu—”
    “Enough!” Damon said. “You can be as angry at me as you would like to be. I understand you’re irritated, and I understand most of you don’t have the first clue who I am or why I’m now your leader. But I won’t have my mate talked about like that.”
    “Yeah,” the same man said. “I’m sure you won’t.”
    Purple agony shot through the front of Damon’s head. He winced, but refused to show any pain in front of the pack. He knew better than to exhibit any weakness at all. Instead of shrinking back, instead he laughed, which loosened the tension a little.
    “We have pack business now,” Damon said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Any personal complaints about me can be brought up in private.” He sneered. “One at a time.”
    A grumble went through the room, but no one spoke up in protest. It must have been enough of what was expected to calm the wolves for a moment.
    “Now,” Damon said. “Why are we here? I understand these meetings aren’t called lightly.”
    “He doesn’t even know ?” The man from earlier almost screeched. “One of the most respected wolves in our pack is murdered and the Alpha remains clueless? What kind of a joke has Pokorann played on us this time? Maybe the rumors are true after all!”
    Damon growled, quickly losing his patience. The more noise they made the more his head pounded. “If you’re going to insult me and your elder both in the same breath, at least have the courage to give me your name.”
    “Erik Armstrong,” the man said as he stood. He was big, broad across the chest, but not as tall or as muscular as Damon. Still, he was impressive and obviously knew it. As he gestured, his chest flexed. “I’ve been in this pack, in this town, my whole life, and I called Nathaniel my friend. All of us trusted him and now he’s dead. What are you going to do about it,