Almost. But not quite. The peace was shattered by a sound that came from Jules. Despite being restrained, Kevin had hit him. Jules’s bottom lip split and blood trickled down his chin. At the same time as I saw it happening, I heard a sickening crunch, a fist against teeth, a sharp gasp, and then a thin, piercing cry. A cry that came from deep inside Jules. The sound went through me. It cut through muscle and bone. It shot up my spine. It spoke to my soul.
Your mate is hurt,it screamed.
I screwed my eyes shut in anguish, and when I opened them, light detonated around me. It was different from the other times it had happened. In comparison, the other times were mild. Just a quick flash. Very, very different to the carnage that was running through my veins right then. I felt like a man who’d lived his life in a dark room and for the first time, someone had flicked the switch on a halogen light. The world was so bright it took me a second to focus. When I did, I saw things clearly. More clearly than ever before. I saw synapses firing. I saw intricate strains of DNA knitting together the bodies of my pack members. I saw Mrs. O’Malley breathing. I didn’t hear it. I saw it. I saw the clear disturbance in the air as she did it. I heard birds chirping miles away. I heard fern fronds unfurling deep in the woods. I felt their seeds springing free. I felt them land and take hold in the earth.
At the same time, Jules’s cry echoed through me. I felt it in every cell in my body. It ignited a new kind of anger. The kind of anger that makes you deadly. I felt it seep out of the earth and run up my legs. I allowed myself to connect to its source. It felt dangerous. Almost too strong, but I didn’t try to stop it. No, I welcomed it. I let it flow through me until I was vibrating with power. When I felt so full of it, I thought I might burst, I shrugged out of Marty and Doug’s grip. I didn’t fight. I didn’t push or pull them off me. I simply shrugged my shoulders. They fell off me as if they’d been hit by a stun gun. I turned on Marty first. I blinked. I inhaled and exhaled. I saw his eyes growing large. His pupils contracted microscopically in fright. His pulse elevated considerably. I drew my fist back and drove it forward. I felt my knuckles connect with his face. Bone against bone. His gave way. It collapsed inward along with his cheek bone and part of his nose. He fell to the ground and didn’t move or make a sound. His heart was still beating, but it was faint and with each pulse it grew fainter still. Doug opened his mouth in some sort of protest, but I was in no mood for talking. I coiled my left fist and struck. A solid strike. A death strike. His spleen ruptured on impact. He fell back, choking, gargling on his own blood.
I looked over at Keith. His expressions were changing slowly, almost as if they were happening in slow motion. I saw menace fade, gradually being replaced with fear. I saw it. My wolf and I liked it. I reached out and plucked the pipe out of his hand. It was like taking candy from a baby. A soft tug was all it required. I swung the pipe at his head. His eyes went round in horror. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. That was the last thing he ever did.
Llewellyn released Jules and took several steps away from him, so I focused my attention on Kevin. I looked at Jules’s bloodstained face and another wave of fury surged through me. I set my sights on Kevin’s chest. I saw the checked fabric of his shirt flutter with the beat of his heart and without thinking, I stretched my hand out and reached into his chest. My hand seemed to melt through flesh and bone like a hot knife slicing through butter. It didn’t feel hard. Quite the opposite. It was easy. My hand was warm and slick as I felt around in his chest. I found what I wanted. An organ. Something important. Something he needed. Something that pulsed. I curled my fingers around it, and with a slight flick of my wrist, I yanked his heart from his chest. I held it in my hand and looked at it dispassionately for a few seconds and then I looked at him. He was still on his feet. His eyes were lifeless. He teetered left and then right and dropped down in a heap. I dropped his useless heart at his feet.
I moved to Llewellyn. He was frozen and trembling from head to toe. When I met his gaze, he slammed his eyes shut and tilted his head sharply to the side. His jugular vein was protruded. Blue-green snaking under his skin. I had his submission. I was dimly aware of the pack’s eyes on me. I was profoundly aware of Jules at my side. I looked at Llewellyn and didn’t see the man before me. I saw the man I grew up with. The man who once came home with a red bicycle he’d found at a garage sale. He bought it for Jules and me. He pushed us around on that bike until we found our balance and were able to pedal on our own. When we did, he stood at the top of the hill and yelled, “You’re doing it. Look, you’re doing it. I knew you could do it!”
Long after we were both competent cyclists, he kept an eye on us. He gently refereed fights about whose turn it was on the bike and spent ages teaching us the art of taking turns. I saw that man before me. I had his submission, as well as that of the scared shitless shifter that trembled before me. It was enough. I didn’t need his life. I stared him down hard and when he was whining in terror, I said, “Shift!”
He did. His body shook until it went blurry and, in a flash, he went from man to wolf. He had no time to undress, so hs wolf was tangled up in his clothes. It looked confused. It struggled and then rolled onto its back, hind legs kicking reflexively as his eyes flashed white with fear.
“Stay,” I said. He stopped moving instantly. Frozen, like some sort of sculpture of a wolf in man’s clothing.
Jules was at my side. His hands were on me. My vision faded to normal. My blood ran thick and slow. It felt like I had cotton wool in my ears. And in my head. And in my mouth, too. I rolled my tongue in my mouth but couldn’t form words. My vision went fuzzy. I felt hot. My head felt hot. It wasn’t pain exactly, but I could tell I had a head injury. It was serious. I could feel shards of bone pressing into my brain. Soft, vital tissue was starting to swell. I swayed and sank down to my knees.
“Sully!” screamed Jules. “Are you okay?”
I looked up at him. I could see his face. His eyes were laced with distress. Everything around and behind him was blurred out. He was all that existed. It was almost a beautiful moment, but it didn’t last long. Jules wasn’t the only thing that existed. Other things existed too. Bad things.
“Guess I’ll have to kill you myself,” Dalton spat, dropping his canines.
“Sully, heal! You need to heal. Heal now!” Jules was yelling. I could tell he was frantic. I was trying. I was trying to heal. Jules was sending desperate energy through the bond. It was helping, but it wasn’t enough. I needed time. Hours. Maybe even days. It was time I didn’t have.
Dalton stalked toward us. His strides grew long and animalistic as he did. He was snarling. Saliva streamed down his teeth. I tried and failed to get onto my feet. I tried again. It was useless. I couldn’t bear my own weight. I looked up at Jules and willed myself to speak. I swirled my tongue around the back of my teeth and finally mumbled, “Run.”
He shook his head. Panic consumed me. I was going to die. I knew it. I understood it. Dalton had been an alpha for almost two decades. His strength was well known. I was a new alpha and a badly incapacitated one at that. I was no match for him. I accepted my fate, but I couldn’t accept what Dalton had planned for Jules. I summoned every ounce of energy I had left in me. I needed to make Jules listen. I wanted it to be the last thing I did, but I couldn’t muster as much as a glimmer. There was no way I could alpha him, so again, I whispered, “Run!”
Jules’s eyes were as black as The Brothers’ had been. His jaw was set. His mind was made up. He was going no-where. He took several steps forward and lowered his stance, bracing for impact. My view of him was suddenly obscured by a small figure. A very small figure. Petite, almost dainty. A small figure that cast a very long shadow. She looked down at me fondly and to my endless amazement, I saw that Mrs. O’Malley was right.
I did have my momma’s eyes.
Streaks of amber bled and radiated out from her pupils. Her eyes were lit from within. Her long, silver hair whipped around her shoulders as she turned to face Dalton. The way her hair moved made her look magickal. It looked like she was generating her own wind. And maybe she was. I certainly wouldn’t have put it past her.
“Dalton Cleary, I challenge you for the position of alpha of the Cleary pack.” Her voice was firm, but calm. Eerily calm. Scarily calm.
Dalton stopped moving, hesitating for a second. He looked around. Most members of the pack weren’t moving. They were rooted where they stood. Several were pale. Tears were streaming down Jules’s mom’s face. Lilac and Lola looked bizarrely entertained. Mrs. O’Malley’s lips were moving. It looked like she was saying a prayer, though given that it was her, an incantation seemed more likely. Every member of the pack heard my mother’s challenge. As much as Dalton wanted me dead, there was no way he could ignore it.
“You stupid bitch,” Dalton snarled, extending his claws. They were long and immaculate. “I’ll kill you and then I’ll gut your runt son.”
My father howled and tried to get up. My mother steadied him with a hard look. She cast her attention on Dalton. She extended the claws on her right hand. They flicked out like blades. Chalky white and strong. The claws on her left hand took longer to descend. She looked down at her hand, seemingly to will the claws to drop. Only one claw extended. A single, gnarled claw that extended from her forefinger only. The claw wasn’t white. It wasn’t chalky. It was black. When she moved her hand, it glinted like mercury.
Dalton threw his head back and roared with laughter. As he did it, my mother feigned with her right. Dalton fell for it, shifting his weight and his gaze. My mother struck with the speed of a viper. A mirrored black claw sliced cleanly through skin and vein walls. It was so quick it took me a second to register that it had happened. It did happen though. It definitely did. Arterial spray fanned out in a wide arc around Dalton. He was alive when he hit the ground, but he wasn’t alive for long.
After he took his last breath, my mother looked at me. She looked at me and then she cast her eyes around to the face of every pack member. They were frozen. Frightened. She raised her chin. Lashings of blood from her kill were splattered across her face. It made her look like what she was.
A formidable woman.
A wild woman.
An alpha.
The pack looked at her and they looked at me. They were all lost. Confused and traumatized. In every face, I saw questions. My mother held out her defective hand and pointed to me with a long, crooked claw. She chose her words carefully. She answered the pack.
