Inside, Savannah is standing against the wall on her tip-toes wearing my shirt, no pants, like she didn’t have time to finish dressing. Some ugly bastard I can only guess is her old alpha has her neck pinned in one broad hand as she struggles to breathe, her eyes wide and pleading when she sees me over his shoulder.
“So the fucker came back,” he growls, swiveling to look at me. “Take another step and I’ll snap her little neck.”
The command of an alpha ricochets through my bones, making my own alpha blood boil in response.
There are only two options when presented with an alpha command: Submit. Or fight.
And I’m not about to submit.
“Get your fucking hands off my mate, or your neck is the one about to be snapped.” I lunge before I’ve even finished my sentence, throwing my elbow into his side and knocking him off balance.
He loses his grip on her as he falls, and Savannah gasps, stumbling backward to land on the bed.
“Out!” I command, yanking the bastard up and throwing him toward the door. “Out now, before I fucking kill you right here.”
I didn’t know I could be so furious, but white-hot rage burns through me, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
Savannah whimpers, coughing, and all I have time to give her is a glance.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, but her voice is hoarse.
“Bastard,” I growl, throwing her old alpha back toward the door when he tries to get up. “You fucking bastard. Are you the bastard who’s been keeping her as your harem slave?”
“Ha! Is that the story she told you? Little bitch! She’s a tricky little minx.” The bastard struggles to his feet, wiping the blood off his jaw.
He’s at least as big as me, broader, too, and probably a good ten or fifteen years older.
I hate him with every damn particle of my existence.
A growl rumbles from deep in my chest.
“I’m not lying,” Savannah whispers, and all her confidence and flirtatious charm has been replaced by pure, desperate terror. “Please believe me.Please. Don’t make me go back with him.”
The bastard has the audacity to laugh.
“Don’t worry.” I’m responding to her, but I keep my glare fixed on the enemy. “I would never.”
“You really bought her lies. Well, fine. I was going to go easy on you, but I’ll just have to finish you off and take back what belongs to me.”
“That’s enough.” I lunge for him, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back, throwing him out the broken door.
In seconds, he’s transformed. My wolf wastes no time, leaping toward him through the snowstorm as I lead him further from the cabin, racing through the trees, daring him to take the bait.
To my great glee, he does.
I know these trails better than anyone. I know every rock and branch, every cliff. I know exactly where to lead him.
I give him a few false starts, letting him think I’m injured, that he’s got me, feigning a limp as we near the spot.
He takes the bait perfectly.
Idiot.
Just as he thinks he’s got me cornered, I leap past him.
And he flies right off the edge of the cliff.
This one is far worse than the little slide Savannah tumbled down earlier. This is the real deal—hundreds of feet down. Enough to kill even a shifter.
