Chapter 47 The New Alpha #2
Thomas feinted left then snapped at Jackson’s hind leg, teeth grazing deep enough to draw a yelp.
Jackson recovered fast, younger strength pouring into every move.
He barreled into Thomas, using his greater mass to drive him sideways into the circle of wolves.
The pack parted just enough. Thomas hit the floor hard but rolled, coming up with a slash that opened Jackson’s side.
Blood sprayed across the wooden floor. The metallic scent hit me hard. Jackson barely reacted. He twisted, driving Thomas backward despite the blood running down his shoulder.
He was tiring Thomas out, wearing down the older wolf’s experience with sheer power.
Thomas came at him again, low and savage, aiming for the belly.
Jackson spun at the last second and clamped his jaws on Thomas’s shoulder.
The crunch of bone echoed. Thomas howled and wrenched free, blood matting his fur.
He was breathing harder now, limping slightly, but his eyes still burned with that desperate, cornered rage.
He knew what losing meant. Everything. His power, his secrets, his life.
The pack roared louder with every clash. Some shouted for Jackson. Others for Thomas.
Jackson pressed the advantage. He was stronger, faster, fueled by everything Thomas had tried to take from him.
From us. He drove Thomas back across the ring with a series of brutal snaps and shoulder checks.
Thomas’s movements grew sloppier, exhaustion and old injuries slowing him.
Jackson feinted high then dropped low, sweeping Thomas’s legs out from under him.
The older alpha crashed to the floor. Jackson was on him instantly, massive paws pinning him down.
His jaws closed around Thomas’s throat, teeth pressing against fur and skin but not yet breaking through.
Thomas thrashed beneath him, claws scrabbling uselessly at Jackson’s sides.
Blood welled where they connected. The hall fell into a tense, breathless hush.
The hot rush of victory was edged with something darker. He held Thomas there, throat exposed, ready to end it. One bite and it would be over. The pack watched in silence now, every eye fixed on the two of them.
I stayed rooted. This was the moment. Jackson had the old alpha at his mercy.
His jaws remained locked around Thomas’s throat, teeth pressed against fur and pulsing skin. One slight shift and it would be over. Blood trickled down Jackson’s muzzle. The entire hall had gone deathly silent, every wolf frozen in place, waiting for the kill that would reshape their world.
Then Jackson lifted his head just enough to look across the ring. His eyes found mine.
Through the bond I felt the storm inside him — the burn of victory, the weight of years of control, the raw instinct screaming to end the threat to me once and for all.
It would be so easy. Thomas would be dead. The monster who burned my family, who ruined so many lives, gone in one snap of jaws. But then I remembered my mother’s screams. My sister’s blood on the floor. The promise I had carved into my own bones the night everything burned.
This was mine.
I shook my head once. Small. Deliberate. No.
Jackson stilled. For a heartbeat the bond surged between us —conflict, then acceptance.
He did not kill. Instead, he growled deep in his chest, a sound that vibrated through the entire hall.
He held Thomas by the throat. At first Thomas thrashed wildly, but then went limp.
His head tilted back in full submission, exposing the vulnerable underside of his throat completely. A low, broken whine escaped him.
The power transfer hit the room like a thunderclap. Even I felt it — a rush of raw alpha energy flooding into Jackson, ancient and heavy. The pack gasped. Some wolves dropped to their knees instinctively. Others stared in stunned silence.
Jackson was alpha now.
He released his father’s throat and stepped back, shifting to human form in one fluid motion.
He stood naked in the center of the circle, blood streaked across his side and ribs, but he didn’t flinch.
He stood tall, breathing hard, radiating new authority.
Strength. Dominance. His gaze swept over every wolf present, daring them to challenge what had just happened.
No one did.
My cat purred with fierce possessiveness at the sight of him. Mine.
Then Jackson looked down at Thomas and commanded, voice low and absolute, “Shift.”
Thomas had no choice. He shifted back, chest heaving, staring up at the son who had just stripped him of everything.
Jackson bent, grabbed his pants from the floor, and pulled them on with quick, efficient movements. He tossed Thomas’s pants at his crotch so the older man could cover himself.
I understood why. Jackson didn’t want me to see that part of his father.
The hall stayed deathly quiet as Thomas yanked the pants on, movements jerky with humiliation.
Jackson straightened, power rolling off him in waves. The new alpha. He didn’t raise his voice, but every word carried.
“First,” he said, gaze sweeping the room, “we open a full investigation into pack business. All financial records, tithes, properties, and any involvement in extortion or trafficking. The pack legal team will run it under my direct oversight. No more secrets.”
A ripple moved through the crowd. Some faces showed open relief. Others, the implicated and the older anti-cat faction, watched with resentment and unease. I felt their stares like knives, but I kept my expression neutral.
“Second,” Jackson continued, “Thomas Black is confined to house arrest effective immediately. Two enforcers will be posted at all times. He does not leave his residence until the investigation and any tribunal are complete.”
Thomas’s face twisted with rage, but he stayed silent. Smart. For once.
“Third,” Jackson said, voice hardening, “anyone implicated in the files is also under house arrest pending investigation. No exceptions. Try to run and it will go worse for you.”
The relief in the room grew thicker among the ones who had suffered. A few even let out shaky breaths.
Jackson's voice never wavered. He had done this for them. For the omegas and the kids and the families. But mostly, I knew, for us.
I kept my expression neutral, but cold satisfaction curled low in my gut. Thomas was isolated now. Caged. Reachable. The window I had waited ten years for was finally opening.
The enforcers started leading Thomas away. He limped between them, blood still drying on his skin. At the last moment, he twisted his head and looked straight at me. Pure hatred burned in his eyes.
I met his gaze flat and steady. No smile. No triumph on my face. Just the quiet promise I had carried since I was thirteen.
He would see me again.