Chapter 25 #2
The alpha ran his hand along his jaw, coarse stubble rasping beneath his fingers. The silence that followed was unbearable. Evelyne’s nerves frayed until tremors shivered through her.
At last, his hand dropped to his dagger, his posture straightening with resolve. “Slit his throat and burn him outside.” The alpha turned toward the tent’s exit.
“Pardon me?” The words ripped out of her before she could stop them. Her breath came in panicked bursts. No, no, no—this wasn’t happening. “You… you can’t kill him!” Her voice shook. “He did nothing wrong!”
The alpha turned to her slowly, his head tilting, as if he were entertained by her boldness. But no words came. Instead, he simply lifted a hand and the others sprang into motion.
“What did he do?” Alaric demanded. “He’s innocent!”
“It’s not what he did,” the alpha replied. “It’s what he is.”
Evelyne barely had time to register the words before she caught the gleam of metal—the blond man’s dagger, glinting in the light as it hovered dangerously close to Reuben’s throat. Her pulse roared in her ears.
“No! STOP!” Evelyne struggled against the ropes binding her wrists, digging her heels into the ground as she twisted and writhed.
Reuben remained calm as his empty eyes drifted to the tent’s roof. Like he had already accepted his fate. Why wasn’t he fighting back?
“Please, don’t do this!” she sobbed.
“Reuben!” Alaric yelled.
Reuben’s black eyes flashed toward the blond at the sound of his name. Fury twisted his features as he heaved against the ropes, so fiercely that the pillar bracing him began to splinter. Where had that strength come from?
“Now!” the alpha demanded.
In less than a heartbeat, Evelyne saw the blond’s dagger flash—and in one clean stroke, it cut across Reuben’s throat. Blood spilled to the ground as his head slumped.
“You wretched monsters,” Evelyne spat, rage tremoring through her limbs as her glare locked on the alpha with blistering intensity. “And you! You’re the worst of them all. Nothing more than a soulless beast playing at being a man.”
Alaric’s stare stayed locked on Reuben’s lifeless body.
The men didn’t hesitate. There was no remorse, no second thoughts. They dragged him outside, and moments later, the flickering glow of flames swallowed what remained.
Murdered. Burned. Erased.
***
Alaric was stunned, unable to move or speak. He could only watch as the three strangers dragged Reuben’s body from the tent and burned it. Evelyne shook uncontrollably against the pole across from him, and he couldn’t even attempt to comfort her.
Reuben had been his family’s carriage driver since he was a young teen. He had always been quiet, but kind and respectful. Alaric had never felt as helpless as he did at that moment, having already spent the last three hours, while Evelyne was unconscious, trying to escape from the rope.
“Why?” she said now, voice cracking. “Why would he just order them to kill him? What are they?”
Alaric barely registered her words. He was trapped in his thoughts, his mind spinning in a void of disbelief. How long had it been since they’d dragged Reuben’s body away? Since the fire had swallowed him whole? Minutes? Hours? He couldn’t tell anymore.
“Alaric!” Evelyne yelled, yanking him back to reality. “Look at me.”
His head snapped toward her, eyes finally focusing.
Her stare burned into him. “What. Are. They?”
Alaric cleared his dry throat. “They’re shifters,” he said quietly.
“They can shift… from man to wolf.” He blinked hard, struggling to believe it himself.
But he had seen the wolves shift into their human forms, and it was a terrifying, hideous sight.
He was glad that Evelyne hadn’t been awake to witness it, but she would see soon enough. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Shifters?” She shook her head. “How could that be possible? Did you… see it?”
He couldn’t fault her for struggling to understand. Even after months of knowing, he was still trying to wrap his head around magic himself.
“Yes. They hauled us here, and then I watched them turn. One after another.” He grimaced, haunted by the memory of those monstrous creatures towering over him with their blood-red eyes, their hot breath searing his skin. Their saliva-slicked fangs hovering over Evelyne’s body, ready to strike.
These weren’t the gentle wolves of fables. No, these were ten-foot-tall beasts born to hunt and kill.
Alaric shook his head. “I never want to witness something that horrific again.” Yet seeing Reuben killed before his very eyes was, without question, the most haunting moment of his life.
The blond ripped open the tent flap. “You’re being moved to separate tents. Say your goodbyes.”
“What do you mean?” Alaric’s eyes darted back to Evelyne.
She appeared composed—shoulders squared, chin lifted just so. But he saw past it, past the mask meant to hide fear or fragility. And damn if he didn’t respect her all the more for it.
“I mean exactly what I said. Were you dropped on your head as a child, or do you have a natural talent for being slow?”
Frustration flared hot in Alaric’s chest. His fists clenched behind the pole, bound and useless. But before he could snap back, Evelyne cut in smoothly, “And why, may I ask, are we being separated?”
The blond shrugged. “Because the alpha said so, and we don’t question him.”
Evelyne let out a slow, thoughtful hum. “Sounds like he’s got you by the balls.”
Alaric let out a startled cough, caught off guard by her audacity. The blond’s expression darkened, and his lips pressed into a hard line, but she wasn’t done yet.
“Let me guess.” Evelyne tilted her head. “He barks, you fetch?”
Alaric’s eyes widened as the man took a step closer to her.
“Careful, human,” he hissed.
Evelyne arched a brow. “Or what? Will you summon your alpha? Or maybe you’ll—”
A sharp crack echoed through the air, a sound so chilling it could only be that of bone breaking. Before Evelyne’s wide eyes, the figure of a man was no more. In its place stood a massive wolf, its fur a stark mix of white and gray, its teeth bared in a menacing snarl.
Evelyne’s face paled as she met the beast’s crimson eyes. Its front paw dug into the dirt, the picture of imminent violence.
Panic seized Alaric. It was going to kill her. Those behemoth jaws could tear out her throat in an instant.
“Holden!” The urgent cry pierced through the air. “Holden, no!”
A young woman with golden hair burst through the tent’s entrance. Cautiously, she approached the wolf—Holden, she had called him—and slowly raised her hand to touch his head.
“You cannot hurt her,” she said firmly. “We were ordered not to hurt them.”
Holden’s ears flicked toward her voice, his deathly gaze snapping away from Evelyne.
A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, his hesitation palpable.
For a moment, it seemed as if he might ignore the command altogether.
But after what felt like an eternity, the great wolf let out a huffing breath, his body shuddering with restrained aggression.
Another sickening shift sounded. Muscles twisted, bones cracked back into place, and fur receded as the grotesque form melted back into that of a man.
A naked man.
Alaric’s eyes flicked down briefly to see the discarded remains of Holden’s clothing strewn haphazardly near Evelyne’s feet.
Holden, however, seemed utterly unbothered by his state of undress.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face as he casually bent down, scooping up his clothes without a shred of shame.
Alaric wasn’t sure what was more disturbing: the fact that this man had nearly ripped Evelyne apart, or that he was now standing there, stark naked, acting like nothing had happened.
Alaric looked to the blonde woman, who stood with quiet composure, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the ground as if annoyed, refusing to acknowledge Holden’s bare form. And Evelyne—poor Evelyne. She was frozen, her mouth agape, her expression caught between shock, horror, and complete disgust.
The woman waited until Holden silently walked out of the tent. Before leaving, she looked over her shoulder at Alaric and said, “I’ll have someone else show you your tents.”
Two muscular, dark-skinned men entered, ignoring Alaric and Evelyne. A dagger flashed, and their ropes fell away just as strong hands seized them. Alaric was dragged left, Evelyne right.
“Evelyne!” Alaric cried out as they were pulled away from each other, but she didn’t look back.