Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
B rock moved silently through the trees, keeping low, his senses tuned to every sound, every flicker of movement. He hadn’t shifted as he ran. Sometimes he did and then other times he just liked to run as a man. His wolf understood and relaxed inside him other than being alert. The storm had passed, but its weight still lingered in the air, heavy and damp. Lightning occasionally flickered on the horizon, and thunder rolled low and distant like a warning growl.
He ran the perimeter near Deb’s property, muscles coiled tight, his breath steady but sharp. That feeling was back—the one that always settled in his gut before something went sideways.
His instincts had never failed him. They’d kept him alive through battles most wouldn’t have walked away from. They’d protected his Pack when he wore the mantle of Alpha. Even though this was a different Pack and different Alpha, Brock never ignored a feeling like this.
Something was off. He knew it, and so did his wolf.
Taz had shown him the tracks earlier in the day. They had been fresh, deep, and definitely not from one of theirs. It was a lone wolf. The storm had done its best to wash the tracks away, leaving only the faintest impressions near the edge of the woods.
Still, it was enough.
He’d passed Deb’s house more than once tonight, his eyes drawn to the windows like a moth to flame. The place had been quiet. No lights on, no movement. Just the dull hum of rain dripping from the gutters and wind rattling the trees.
Brock wasn’t the type to hover, but this wasn’t about hovering. This was about instinct. And every damn one he had told him something was about to happen. He just didn’t know what.
He had also swung by the old supply hut that had been turned into a temporary shelter for Asher. It was close to Deb’s land, and that gave him a little comfort. At least she wasn’t completely alone out here. Brock had warned Asher to stay sharp, to keep an eye out, and to check in if anything felt off. The good thing about their kind is that they could mentally telecommunicate when attuned to each other. Anytime they went on runs, everyone had their minds open.
Brock moved back into the thicker part of the woods, scanning the tree line near Deb’s property again. The rain had softened the ground enough that every step left an impression, but even that wouldn’t help if someone—or something—was being careful.
He paused. The air shifted. He didn’t hear anything. He felt it and that bad feeling in his gut flared.
Brock broke into a sprint, heart hammering, tearing through the trees with no real direction—just instinct guiding him like a wire pulled taut. His boots pounded against the wet earth, splashing through puddles, dodging low branches and half-fallen limbs still slick from the storm.
He didn’t know exactly why, but he knew where he had to go.
That same gut-deep feeling that had kept him alive more times than he could count now screamed inside him, louder than ever.
Then, he heard it.
A scream—raw and terrified—cut through the woods like a blade.
Brock skidded to a stop, his head snapping toward the sound, ears tuned and alert. The scream echoed again, this time farther to the right, and there was no doubt in his mind. It was Deb who was screaming.
Rage exploded in his chest. He swore if anyone hurt her, they would die by his hands in the most painful way possible.
He shifted without hesitation, muscles snapping and reshaping mid-stride, and in the next heartbeat, a massive black wolf tore through the trees. His paws dug into the mud as he bolted, pushing harder, faster, wind whipping through his fur as he raced toward the sound of her fear.
His vision sharpened, scent filtering through the wet air—earth, pine, rain… blood… and her.
She was close, and she was in danger. Absolutely nothing—not lightning, not the dark, not even the threat waiting in those shadows was going to stop him from reaching her.
The underbrush exploded as Brock barreled into the clearing like a force of nature, his massive wolf form crashing through the darkness just as the rogue wolf lunged for Deb.
With a guttural snarl, Brock slammed into the side of the other wolf mid-air, the impact sending them both tumbling across the muddy ground in a violent tangle of fur and teeth. They rolled hard, growling, snapping, claws tearing through the storm-soaked earth until Brock pinned the rogue beneath him with a bone-rattling thud.
Fangs bared, Brock snapped down, his jaws closing around the wolf’s throat—not to kill, not yet, but to make a point of who was more powerful, more alpha. The other wolf stilled, blood streaking its pelt, eyes wild with shock. With one last warning growl, Brock flung him like a rag doll, sending the bastard crashing into a tree.
The wolf scrambled up, already limping, but Brock didn’t give chase...yet. He slowly took a step toward Deb, who sat on the ground soaking wet, her white t-shirt plastered to her and splattered with blood from the scratches on her face and arms. His wolf growled as Brock roared inside his wolf at seeing her hurt.
The one thing he noticed as they stared at each other is she didn’t fear him. She slowly gave him a nod as if telling him she was okay. Knowing he couldn’t stay but had to finish what had been a threat to her, he turned and took off. It was the hardest thing he had ever done.
Brock caught the rogue easily, bursting through the trees with a speed that left no room for escape. But what stopped him in his tracks wasn’t the coward running—it was the circle of wolves already surrounding the bastard. Hunter. Dell. Garrett. Marcus. Taz. They’d closed in like a pack of shadows.
Without hesitation, Brock shifted back into his human form, his breath steaming in the cold rain, muscles coiled and ready. He didn’t bother with modesty—his body was still smeared with blood from the earlier fight, the claw marks down his side pulsing, but he didn’t feel a thing.
Only rage.
He mind-linked Asher, informing him where Deb was and telling him to go to her until he was finished.
Brock’s voice then cut through the downpour like a gunshot. “Shift!”
The massive, black-furred, defiant wolf stood its ground, panting heavily. Brock’s eyes narrowed, fury radiating from every inch of him. “I said… fucking SHIFT!”
Slowly, the wolf began to contort, bones snapping, fur retracting until Gary stood there, naked and shaking, but not from the cold. The moment Brock saw his face—Tammy’s ex, the one who put fear into her and scars on her—something inside him snapped.
“You son of a bitch.” Brock closed the distance in two strides, his hand clamping around Gary’s throat and lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. Gary gagged, legs kicking, rain sluicing down both of them. “You dare come here after what you did to my sister? To my nephew? And then you assault my Mate?”
Low growls rippled through the others as his mind filled with their confusion, but Brock didn’t care. Let them hear it. Let them know the truth. Deb was his .
Gary’s eyes widened in panic, clawing at Brock’s arm. “I just—I just wanted to see my son!” he choked out. “That woman—she’s the one letting them stay there! I wasn’t going to hurt her!”
Brock slammed him to the ground but kept a crushing hold on his throat. “How do you know she’s the one helping them?” He didn’t like the fact someone was telling things they shouldn’t be telling. It not only put Tammy and Ben in danger, but Deb as well.
“A woman in town told me,” Gary wheezed. “I don’t know her name. I was digging around, asking a waitress at the diner some questions. Some lady overheard. She said the woman at the edge of town—Deb—was letting them stay at that big house on the hill. Said someone named Clare got them out of the Pack.”
Brock’s eyes flicked to Dell, whose wolf nodded once. Brock sneered.
Gary kept scrambling to explain. “I just wanted to scare her. Make her kick Tammy and Ben out. Then they’d have no choice but to come back. Tammy has no right to keep my son! You know the Shifter way—he belongs with me ! He’s my firstborn!”
“You lost any right when you laid a hand on my sister,” Brock growled, his voice cracking with the force of his fury. “And you sure as hell weren’t counting on me showing up, were you?”
The other wolves shifted one by one, now standing as men, stone-faced and tense. The circle tightened. “With that terrified look on his face, I suspect that answer is a big fuck no.” Hunter snorted without humor.
“Any backup coming?” Dell asked, arms crossed, glaring at Gary.
“I don’t have a Pack anymore,” Gary muttered, defeated.
“Shocker,” Hunter deadpanned just as Leda jogged into the clearing, bag slung over her shoulder. Without a word, she tossed a pair of sweats to Brock, who caught them with his free hand, finally letting Gary drop.
Brock yanked them on, not taking his eyes off Gary for a second.
“Give him a pair,” he ordered.
Leda glanced at Dell, who gave a nod. She tossed another pair of sweats at Gary.
Gary stared at them, confused. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re about to get your ass handed to you,” Hunter said, tugging on his own pants. “And no one here wants to see your junk flopping around while it happens.”
“Put them on,” Brock growled, his voice a steel blade. “Or don’t. I’m giving you a choice you never gave Tammy.”
The forest fell silent save for the distant thunder. Gary pulled the sweatpants on with trembling hands.
“Now we settle this.” Brock’s voice was low, lethal. His eyes never left Gary as he stepped forward, muscles coiled and crackling with fury. The rain poured harder, soaking the earth and muffling sounds, but Brock’s words carried like a war drum.
He turned slightly toward Dell, a flicker of deference passing through his gaze. “You have any other questions for this bastard?”
Dell’s jaw clenched as his eyes locked on Gary. “No,” he said simply, the growl in his tone unmistakable. “I don’t believe anything a man that beats a woman says.”
Gary barely had time to blink before Brock launched forward, fists flying. The first punch cracked across Gary’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. He stumbled back, dazed, but Brock didn’t give him room to breathe. Another blow hit his ribs, and the sound of the impact was sharp and satisfying.
“You dare come into my territory,” Brock growled between punches, “hurt my family. Threatened my Mate .”
Gary swung, wild and desperate, but Brock ducked under it and drove his shoulder into Gary’s gut, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into the mud with a heavy thud. Gary groaned, trying to scramble up, but Brock was already on him. He rained down punch after punch—controlled, brutal, every strike fueled by rage and years of pent-up fury.
“You think scaring a woman makes you strong?” Brock snarled, grabbing Gary by the front of his sweatpants and dragging him upright. “You think you’re a man because you make someone smaller than you afraid? Fight me, you son of a bitch!”
Gary wheezed, spitting blood. “I just wanted to see my son?—”
“You lost that right!” Brock roared.
He slammed Gary against a tree, bark splintering behind him. A flash of lightning lit the clearing, illuminating the fury in Brock’s eyes—the unmistakable golden shimmer of his wolf near the surface. Gary tried to shift, but Brock kicked his legs out from under him, pinning him to the ground with a knee to the chest.
“Shift again, and I’ll break your fucking neck,” Brock warned, voice low and deadly. “You’re not going out as a wolf but a man who beats women.”
Gary whimpered, hands raised in surrender.
Brock stood, breathing hard, blood dripping from a split across his cheek and the reopened claw wounds on his side. Rain washed over him, mingling red with the mud beneath their feet. He looked down at Gary, who lay broken and heaving in the dirt.
“You’re lucky the Alpha is here,” Brock muttered. “If it were just me and you, I’d end your life now, you worthless piece of shit.”
“Finish him,” Dell gave him the nod, his arms crossed as he stared at Brock. “But let me warn you. If you finish him, I expect your allegiance to me and the Lee County Wolves Pack. His life for yours.”
Without thought, without question, Brock reached down to the now crying Gary and snapped his neck like a fucking twig. And with that, he turned, vanishing into the storm-soaked forest, shirtless, bleeding, and alive with purpose—leaving a dead man behind, and the chapter closed in violence and vengeance.