“What?” I gasp. A wave of nausea courses through me, knees close to buckling.
This isn’t right. I didn’t sign up to be a bystander of glorified brutality.
The victor continues his slow prowl, stopping to watch a group of young boys chant, practically combusting with excitement. Drenched in crimson, Axe hesitates. Heaving. Scanning the crowd once more. Why is his bloodlust suddenly fading?
I can do nothing but watch as the mutilated bronze wolf takes his last breaths. The spectators’ cheers grow louder, piercing my ears. Floorboards vibrate beneath me as the stomping anticipation builds. With a heavy sigh, the battered pelt shrivels away. My guts churn at the sight of the grave injuries amplified on Colton’s human body. But at least his spine is still intact. For now.
Jaws clamp down around the male’s neck. With a lashing jerk, Colton’s head separates from his shoulders. Qinnu grins, pumping his fist. I drop to my knees, dry heaving.
A snooty voice mocks me from behind. “You should be grateful right now. I know I would be. But if you’re too repulsed to warm his bed tonight?—”
“Put a cork in it, Shay,” Nell snaps.
Axe takes the broken corpse into his jaws, heading for the woods. Qinnu swings over the front porch to join the band of warriors rallying at the base of the steps. One of them has already scooped up Colton’s head. Together, they pursue Axe, while the semicircle of lycans disperses. Dozens file back into the lodge, their judgment searing with resentment as they look upon me.
Chapter 11
VESSA
Sleep is nowhere within my grasp when I return to the house, following an excruciatingly awkward dinner with Cora and the Sentinel. Instead, I stare at the ceiling for hours; intrusive thoughts shove and nip at me like wolves circling prey.The minute the Alpha learns who you really are, you’ll no longer be safe here.
Jabir summons me at first light. Beneath the main floor of Lupine Manor, I follow the Beta down a dark-lit industrial staircase that was left out of my previous tour. While the upper levels of this house were built like a ski lodge, they were not designed by the same person who constructed the subterranean level. Massive pipes run along the ceiling, granite walls stark and sterile. I imagine this corridor could serve as a hideout in the event of a bombing or an invasion.
Jabir knocks twice on the first office door before showing me in. The Alpha of the Bleeding Sun towers over his desk, shuffling a pile of folders. An apex predator, ruggedly put together in a simple button-down and slacks. He looks up, immediately registering my fatigue.
Axe approaches with a warm mug filled with coffee and pulls out the chair for me to sit opposite of his desk. "Sit."
I accept the cup and sink into the inviting leather-cushioned seat. Behind his desk, I spy a framed red and white tapestry hung on the wall which displays an image of a howling wolf. Below the frame hangs an Agathoran flag, a photo of a younger Axe in his dashing uniform, along with another shot of him standing tallest among his platoonmates.
Rolling up his sleeves, Axe continues to go on about his daily morning routine, but my head is pounding too hard to stay engaged. Rubbing my temple does little to alleviate the discomfort.
"Are you still with me? You don't look well.”
The bags under my eyes feel droopier than they have in days. Forcing myself to blink, I prop myself up on wobbly elbows. "I’m not a morning person.”
He doesn’t press further on the subject. “Right then. About yesterday . . .”
“Should I be praising you for butchering that Alpha? Because I will do no such thing."
Axe blinks, taken aback. "No. But just so you know,that Alphawas nothing but a thorn in my side."
"What is this about then?”
Something has him wound painfully tight. “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t believe I’m a monster.”
I purse my lips. Images of yesterday's brawl resurface. His claws and black muzzle slick with gore. A terrifying threat to any adversary. And yet, in my company, the wolf has been nothing but gentle, his fury tempered.
Settling on my answer, I relax my posture. “I barely know you. But from what I’ve seen, you are not a monster.”
"What I sensed during the challenge yesterday indicated otherwise."
“I wasn’t afraid of you.”
“No?”
“Should I be?”
"Most of my people believe that I was put on this earth to kill, and that spilling blood is what I do best."
