And the delectable scent of a funeral pyre blasted through the house like a mushroom cloud.
Chapter Forty
Chasing down the three surviving alphas in the woods treated Roman to a view of Nash’s body when he and Puppy raced past it. He whistled low at the sight of his slashed abdomen, organs strewn across the dirt and still steaming in the air, the metallic wink of the broken collar jutting from his flesh and telling Roman precisely what Puppy wanted the collar for. It reminded him of Sidian and the beta he’d watched his omega torture, and it only propelled him forward faster. The sooner they finished killing the alphas, the sooner he could return to Sidian’s side.
He didn’t know if Sidian was okay, but Roman trusted him to survive. As long as Sidian was alive, Roman would do everything in his power to return to him.
And if anything had happened to him, Roman would ensure that Dax Kincaid paid the price. He would pay it repeatedly until Roman was satisfied he had learned his lesson, determined to ensure that his omega’s pain would be avenged.
Puppy skidded to a stop and twisted her head around, sniffing the air before she darted toward the right, Roman on her tail. She was faster than he was, but he kept up just the same, ignoring the burn of lactic acid in his muscles and his body’s insistence he slowed down. Limits be damned, pain be damned, all that mattered was revenge and getting back to his mate as fast as possible.
A shot rang through the night. A chunk of tree trunk burst into pieces just ahead of Puppy, showering her in splinters that had her hissing in utter rage.
Roman caught her around the waist and tackled her to the ground as another shot rang out, his head already turning in the direction it came from as heavy footsteps thudded into the darkness.
Knox had been armed back at the motel, but where his gun had been when he needed it most, Roman did not know. But another of them was armed. That only had to be tricky if they allowed it; he left Puppy on the ground to collect herself and cut a wide berth around the sound of running steps, his eyes narrowing as his vision sharpened. Jett Kincaid, he thought, and ran wider still, determined to cut him off when he would least expect it. If he were a bad shot or shaky, then it would be easy to catch him off-guard and kill him.
Being shot was not fatal if the bullet missed any important internal organs. If Roman needed to take a hit to get close, he would do that.
Just don’t bleed out in the middle of the woods,he told himself, his nose twitching as he picked up the acidic burn of Jett’s gin and lime scent. His footsteps were growing closer once again. He was going to run right into Roman, and he didn’t know it. That was how it had to be.
Something crashed through the trees after him, and Jett swore, half-stumbling over his own feet, and Roman realized itwas Puppy. Whether she was chasing him for the thrill of it or running him into where Roman stood, he didn’t know. He also didn’t care.
He waited until the last possible second, watching as Jett spun on heel and aimed into the darkness. The moment his back was turned, Roman darted up behind him and caught him around the neck.
“Fuck!” Jett fired high and off-center as Roman drew his forearm tight against the other alpha’s throat, cutting off his air supply before he could get out another word. No cries for help, no pleas for mercy.
He watched as Puppy reached them, her eyes glinting before she turned and took off in another direction. Either she didn’t want the easy kill or she trusted him to get the job done; either way, Roman was flattered as he gave Jett a vicious toss into the nearest tree trunk.
The gun slipped from his hand, and Roman retrieved it as he watched Jett try to crawl away from him.
The steel was heavy and familiar in Roman’s hands; he put the safety back on and slipped it into the back of his jeans, tucking his shirt down over it in case he needed it later. Then he followed at a leisurely pace, watching as Jett crawled through the mud and leaves, his hands grasping for anything to hold on to as he gulped in much-needed air. How hard they fought to live moments before the end came; Roman had to admit to himself that the Kincaids put on a hell of a show.
He watched as Jett’s hands grasped a jagged rock jutting out of the ground, his hands sliding over its slippery surface as he crawled over it.
And the moment his face drew level with the stone, Roman made his move, one effortless leap into the air that ended with the sole of his boot meeting the back of Jett’s head.
Mal had done it just once to Ghost before Jagger tore both of them off the sparring mats and ripped them new assholes for daring to push each other so far during training. On a flat surface, a curb stomp was dangerous enough; Mal was wound up, and Ghost had a way of getting under his skin, but he’d also known what to expect and took the blow well enough to avoid having his face busted open.
Jett Kincaid did not know to expect until the full weight of an alpha came down on his neck.
His face slammed into the rock with a wet crunch, the sound sending a shiver of pleasure down Roman’s spine. But he bore down harder, lifting his boot up just to slam it back down, driving Jett’s bloodied face into the stone until his skull cracked open from the pressure.
Gray matter gushed onto the forest floor. Roman watched it ooze from between pieces of skull, glistening and wet and white enough that it almost made him think of flower petals. He didn’t have to check if Jett was dead before turning to find his way back into the fray.
Five down. Two to go. And then straight back to the house for Sidian.
Someone ran past him, and he turned to see Ford powering through the trees as fast as he could, his face as white as a sheet. Talon followed a moment later, his breaths coming out in harsh whining cries that were not befitting of the status of an alpha. When Puppy came through the brush a moment later, Roman understood what they were running from.
She pointed after them, and the two of them gave chase once again.
Axel had been the bulkiest of the alphas, but Ford and Talon were close behind, and that made them slower and clumsier on their feet in their panic. Roman could scent the fear thick and metallic on the air, and it fed into his bloodlust, predatoryinstinct demanding he run faster, catch up with them, take them down to the ground and rip them apart piece by piece. He ached, and his muscles burned, and his skin was numb from the cold and itching from dried blood, and still he wanted more.
It would never be enough to sate his desire for vengeance, but it would be enough for Sidian, and that mattered more. That had to come first.
Puppy leaped, almost flying to land on Ford’s back. She slammed into him so hard he hit the dirt, and Talon half-turned as if to help before he ran again, stumbling when Puppy sank her teeth into Ford’s shoulder and he screamed in pain. As Roman passed them, he watched her jerk her head back, tearing through fabric to rip off a chunk of skin that was red and raw beneath, glistening as the rain cascaded down onto it.
He gave her credit where credit was due and focused his attention on Talon as they broke through the trees and into the backyard, long grass dragging against his ruined jeans. The alpha aimed for the sliding glass door that led inside, but Roman would not let him get that far.
