Chapter 19 #3
“And all of us,” Gerald continues, “were robbed of that power!”
Fangs glint in the firelight as the fervor of the crowd increases and these men, these rogue alphas, begin to lose control of their inner wolves.
“Across the country another great man is building an army, consolidating power,” Gerald says, his tone cold as ice. Oh crapballs. “And if we join him, if we stand with him in his fight against the growing scourge that is responsible for our defenestration, we too can share in his victory.”
Somewhere to my right, bodies begin to jostle, and I wonder if a fight has broken out.
A circle expands as a wild wolf leaps into the center, his paws kicking up dust that sparkles in the firelight.
Howls are sounding from everywhere, and two more men shift, unable to stop themselves, their wolves leaping from the edges of the crowd.
“And it just so happens,” Gerald says, now turning his sickly yellow eyes on me, “that we have a visitor today. The blood wolf!” A large and steely-strong hand clasps my shoulder.
I struggle against Terrance’s grip but he’s too big, too strong.
To my right Omar is already struggling against Marshall, who has appeared behind him and wrapped his muscular arms around Omar’s chest.
“With the blood wolf’s assistance we can tell Walter Bridgers of our plans to join him before we even arrive.
And it just so happens this blood wolf is a member of the Elite Pack, our common enemy.
With him as an offering, Walter Bridgers will have no option but to embrace us and bring us into the fold. ”
“No!” I cry out, but my voice is lost in the onslaught of howls and cheers.
Somehow, Gerald’s voice is able to rise above the throng.
“With the help of the Axis Pack we will reclaim the power stolen from us! We will rule as alphas once again!”
Gerald throws his fist in the air, whipping the crowd into even more of a frenzy.
“Walter doesn’t care about you!” I yell, though it’s pointless. “He doesn’t care about any of you!”
“Bring the blood wolf to me,” Gerald commands. And Terrance, proving himself as nothing more than a lackey, basically lifts me off my feet and forces me toward the stage. “Let Walter know of our promise to serve him, then lead us to him.”
Kicking and squirming, I try to free myself, but Terrance is about four times my size and who knows how many times stronger. It’s impossible.
“Max!” I hear Omar call for me and am only just able to turn my head enough to catch him being forced to the ground. He’s fighting back but there are another two rogues on him now, and it’s too much. They press his face into the dirt, kneeling on his shoulders to hold him still.
I’m forced onto the platform, coming face-to-face with Gerald.
He leans in, close enough that I can see the tobacco stains on his teeth.
“Do what you’re told, Blood Wolf, or we’ll end you.”
Terrance still has me in his grip, but seeing Gerald up close I realize something.
These rogues, these forgotten alphas, aren’t as powerful as they’d like to believe.
Their packs excommunicated them for whatever reason and were somehow able to expel them even though their bloodline demands obedience.
An alpha should be able to command their pack.
These wolves couldn’t hit Command on a computer keyboard.
And there’s no way I’m letting them control me either.
“You want to see the power of the blood wolf,” I say, panting. “Watch.”
Though it’s never happened before, I feel my eyes roll back in my head as I hurry to access the Lunar Plane. First, I reach out for Gerald, finding his consciousness and pulling out all the hurt and anguish of being rejected by his pack, he screams and collapses to his knees.
Next, I reach behind me for Terrance, who struggles against me, but quickly he releases me.
With these two mountains of men writhing in pain at my feet I turn my attention to the wolves incapacitating Omar and I bring out all the shame and embarrassment they must feel, the guilt of having wasted their birthright.
Like dominos they fall off him. Omar runs to me, but as he does the crowd notices, and they turn to us.
Omar joins me on the stage, where we face more than fifty former alphas, each with their fangs bared, their claws at the ready. Each with bulging muscles and protruding veins. Each ready to tear us apart.
“Can you do that to all of them?” Omar asks, looking at Gerald and Terrance, who have curled into balls and are crying into their knees.
“I don’t know, there’s . . . a lot of them. And they’re strong.”
“We’re toast if you can’t.”
“No pressure then.”
This time I close my eyes, I open my palms, I extend my consciousness, and then—BOOM!
My eyes flick open just in time to see a fiery explosion mushrooming from the middle of the RVs.
The forgotten alphas are distracted, turning to find their homes engulfed in flames.
Another explosion erupts, sending two RVs flipping onto their sides. Then another.
Omar grabs my arm and pulls me from the stage.
“Run!”