Chapter 25 #3
The executioners hesitate. They look between me and Alaric, uncertainty written across their faces. Good. Let them choose.
“Kill the hybrid and capture my son!” Alaric’s face is purple with rage, veins standing out in his neck. “As of now, you are no longer the alpha heir, Darius.”
A smirk twists my lips. “That is not your decision to make. You are no longer suitable to be an alpha.”
Calloway, Voss, and Strand step forward in unison, a united front.
“We voice our agreement,” Calloway says, his voice carrying authority. “Our joint investigation has revealed that Alaric is not fit to rule. He is to be judged in front of the Council of Alphas, and he will have to answer for his crimes.”
Voss speaks up next, his dark eyes intense. “We recommend that Darius step up and take over the alpha position of the Moonvale Pack.”
Alaric’s face contorts. “You dare come into my territory and threaten me?”
“Your and Zion’s actions have brought us to this point.” My voice is steady, final. There’s no going back now.
“Capture them all!” Alaric shrieks.
Nothing happens. The guards don’t move. The soldiers stand frozen. I can feel it, the shift in power, the way the pack is pulling away from him. He’s losing them. Losing everything.
He realizes it, too. I see the moment it hits him, and I watch his face twist with rage and indignation.
Then, he shifts.
One moment he’s standing there in human form, the next he’s a massive gray wolf, larger than any other in the pack. He launches himself, jaws open wide, aiming for me.
Or for Violet behind me.
I shift in a blur of motion. My clothes tear as my body transforms, bones realigning, muscles expanding. My wolf surges forward, meeting Alaric in midair.
We collide with a sickening crack. His weight slams into me, and we crash to the arena floor, rolling in a tangle of fur and teeth. The stone scrapes against my side, but I don’t feel it. All I feel is the fire in my blood, the hunger to end this.
He goes for my throat. I twist away, and his jaws close on my shoulder instead, teeth sinking deep. Pain explodes through me, but I use it, channel it into fury. I rip free, leaving flesh behind, and rake my claws down his flank.
Blood sprays across the stone. His and mine, mixing together.
We separate and start to circle each other. My father is bigger, heavier, and his years of experience make him a formidable opponent. But I’m faster, younger. And I have her to fight for.
He lunges again. I duck under his attack and tear into his exposed shoulder, my teeth finding the vulnerable spot between bone and muscle. He howls, a sound of rage and pain that echoes through the arena.
The crowd is silent. Not even breathing. Just watching as father and son tear each other apart. From the corner of my vision, I see Zion backing toward the exit, his hand reaching for something at his waist.
Alaric throws me off with a vicious shake. I hit the ground hard, and pain shoots through my injured shoulder, but I roll and come up ready. Blood drips from my muzzle and from the wounds covering my body.
We stalk each other. His breathing is labored now, his movements slower. But he’s not done. Not yet.
He feints left, and I fall for it. His jaws close around my back leg, and I hear a bone crack. Blistering agony shoots through me, and for a second, my vision goes dark.
No. I can’t lose. Not now. Not when Violet is counting on me.
I twist in his grip, ignoring the pain, and go for his face. My claws catch his eye, and he releases me with a yelp. I land badly on my broken leg, pain shooting through the limb, but I force myself to stay upright.
I shift back to human form in the middle of the fight.
Alaric, still in wolf form, hesitates. He’s confused by the unexpected nature of the move. It’s all I need.
I grab his jaw with both hands, my muscles straining, focusing all my strength on this one moment. He thrashes, trying to break free, but I hold on. My broken leg threatens to buckle, the agony nearly blinding me, but I lock my knees, refusing to fall.
With a roar that comes from somewhere deep inside me, I force his head to the side. There’s a terrible snapping sound, loud and final, that fills the otherwise silent arena.
Alaric’s body goes limp.
I release him, and he collapses to the stone floor, shifting back to human form as life leaves him. He lies there, naked and broken, his neck twisted at an impossible angle. His eyes stare at nothing. His chest doesn’t move.
Dead.
The man who raised me. The man who taught me everything. The monster who destroyed countless lives to protect his son.
Dead by my hand.
I shift back to wolf form, ignoring the pain in my leg, and throw my head back. The howl that tears from my throat is victory and grief and rage all rolled into one. It’s the sound of a new alpha claiming his place, of an old order dying.
The pack responds. Hundreds of voices join mine, a chorus that shakes the very foundations of the arena. They’re not mourning Alaric. They’re acknowledging their new alpha.
I shift back to human form. Blood covers my body, dripping from dozens of wounds. I turn my head, looking for Violet.
She is on her knees again, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock.
I cross the distance between us, limping heavily on my broken leg, and go down on my good knee in front of her. Not touching. Just close enough that she knows I’m here.
“Are you alright?”
She nods mutely.
“Get me a healer!” I call out as I help her to her feet.
I squeeze her hands before leaving her there to run over to the edge of the crowd, where Anne is approaching me with a pair of pants. I tug them on quickly and turn toward Violet again. She’s rubbing her wrists, but she looks okay. I feel relieved.
Still quite a distance away, I call out to her. “Violet, I—”
My sentence cuts off when I see her eyes move to something behind me. The terror that flashes across her face is visceral. Before I can ask what’s wrong, she shouts, “Get down!”
“What?”
I’m slow to react. That is my mistake. I turn around to see what she’s looking at, but then I hear a familiar snap: the sound of bones breaking and reforming.
My head whips back to where Violet was, but all I see is a grayish black wolf running towards me.
The wolf shoves me down under her with every bit of her strength.
I haven’t even hit the ground when I hear the deafening crack of a gunshot.
The wolf is small and frail, and when the bullet pierces her, she jerks back slightly before slumping on top of me. For a moment, one brief heartbeat, I don’t understand what just happened. And then, I smell her blood.
The weight of the thin wolf vanishes from on top of me and is replaced by something lighter: a naked woman. My Violet. Unmoving, unconscious, her blood gushing out onto my chest. A roar of denial tears from my lips as I sit up, pulling her towards me.
I crane my neck around, still cradling her against my chest.
Zion stands there, gun raised, smoke curling from the barrel. His face is twisted with rage and something darker. Something that has been festering for years.
“You think you get to have it all, Darius?” His voice shakes with fury. “The pack, the power, the mate? If I lose everything, so do you.”