“This ain’t like before,” Skeeter said, and grinned, blood leaking from the crack in his lip.
I paced in front of him slow, deliberate. The air was cold and stank of oil and fear. The chill of the Texas panhandle winter was just settling in, but what I felt was the wet chill of something bad about to happen.
“Let’s play a game,” I said. “You tell me who paid you, and I let you walk out of here with all your fingers.”
He snorted, a wet, ugly sound. “Fuck you, Wrecker.”
I didn’t argue. I just backhanded him, hard enough to ring his ears. He spat teeth and blood onto the floor. “Fuck you,” he said again.
Arsenal grunted, but kept his place. Gunner flinched, but he was new. He’d learn.
“Listen,” I said, dropping to a knee, so we were eye to eye. “I don’t have time for this. You’re not gonna talk, not because you’re brave, but because you’re a coward and you know what your puppet master will do if you roll on them.” I let that sink in. “But I’m here to tell you that whatever they got planned, I can do worse.”
He looked away, jaw clamped.
Skeeter’s lip curled, his voice sharp as a blade in the thick silence of the pack jail. “You call this leadership?” Hejabbed a finger toward Bronc, who stood motionless near the cell entrance, his jaw taut. “Kidnappings, an outsider becoming Luna, infighting—all of it’s on you. Liam Senior would’ve spit at the sight of what you’ve done. We needed a real Alpha after he died. Someone who’d earned their scars, not some pup playing at power.” His gaze swept the room, daring others to meet it. “Should’ve been me stepping up. At least I wouldn’t let one of our daughters get snatched, then not be worth squat when she came back until she couldn’t even stand to live in her own body anymore.”
“Enough.” The growl ripped from my throat, low and thunderous, my body a wall blotting out the light in the room as I stepped forward. The air turned rancid with the reek of challenge, my fur prickling beneath human skin, ready to burst.
Skeeter’s sneer flashed, all teeth and stupidity. “Or what? You’ll lick his boots harder? Face it—Bronc’s a failure. Always has been. His old man knew it too. Why else would he waste time salvaging strays instead of—”
The world sharpened, then dissolved into red.
I was a storm. A snarl shredded my lips as I lunged, claws slicing free. Skeeter’s smirk died in a gurgle as I pinned him to the wall, stone splintering under his skull. “You don’t speak his name,” I hissed, vision bleeding gold, fangs grazing his pulsing throat. “Liam Senior saved me. Gave me a pack. A brother.” My claws dug deeper, blood blooming hot beneath them. “Bronc’s worth ten of you. And I’ll peel the skin from your bones before I let you spit on that.”
Bronc’s voice lashed behind me. “Wrecker! Stand down—now!”
But the past howled louder—dank foster rooms, empty bellies, the beast gnawing at my ribs. Liam’s calloused hand on my shoulder. Bronc’s grin as we wrestled in the pines. Family.
Skeeter choked, fear sour on his breath. “He’s—he’s not evenyour blood—!”
“He’s everything.” My fist snapped sideways, crushing his jaw mid-sneer. The pack swarmed, howling, but I was feral, untouchable—a whirlwind of teeth and rage.
It took three of them to haul me back, Bronc’s roar finally cleaving through the chaos. “Enough! Enough.”
I stumbled, lungs heaving, Skeeter’s blood slick on my knuckles. Bronc’s stare hit me like ice—Alpha, brother, anchor.
I bared crimson-stained teeth at my team. “Anyone else got something to say about Bronc?”
The silence tasted like victory.
I nodded at Gunner. “Lesson one, Gunner. Don’t beat your informants almost to death. Unless they really piss you off.”
Gunner nodded, face tight.
Skeeter was barely conscious, head rolling, blood pattering onto the floor.
I turned to Gunner. “That’s how you know when to stop,” I said. “When they stop making sense, or when they can’t remember their own name.”
Gunner stared at Skeeter, then at me. “Should we… call a medic?”
“He’s not worth it,” I said. “He’s a warning to anyone else who wants to play both sides.”
Arsenal dragged Skeeter’s limp body, let it drop in the corner. Gunner stood uncertain until I clapped him on the shoulder.
“You did fine,” I said. “Next time, don’t let the punk get in your head.”
He nodded, swallowing whatever rookie bullshit was still stuck in his throat.
