42. Forty-Two
FORTY-TWO
J ax
From outside the house, I watch as Leroy storms around the table. The second he raises his fist in the air, I’m moving. My body crashes through the glass just before my front paws push Leroy into the kitchen table. The wood splits beneath my weight and breaks in two. Leroy releases a harsh breath as his back meets the floor. There’s shouting followed by low growls from Alicia, Jace, Declan, and Quinton.
“P-please,” Leroy begs quietly, looking up at me with terrified eyes. “Don’t k-kill me.”
Lowering my snout to his face, I snarl back at him. If I weren’t stuck in this form, I’d do more than kill him. I’d break each bone in his body before slicing him apart piece by piece. The fact that I have to settle for a quick death by ripping his throat out pisses me off. He doesn’t deserve quick. Not after what he’s done to Harley.
With another growl, I clamp my teeth around his neck and jerk my head back. He should’ve never taken what was mine. He should’ve known not to fuck with the beast inside of me.
Lifting my head, I meet the venomous stare of Harley’s father. In the chaos that’s unfolding around me, I don’t even think twice as I rise into a defensive position. With tunnel vision on my next target, I take a step forward.
Three gunshots meet my ears. My head whips around, checking the room to see who might’ve gotten shot. I find all eyes on me as the pain starts to spread through my chest. I look down at my front paws. Blood drips steadily to the floor beneath me.
My legs buckle, and I drop. An echoing thud fills the room as my body collides with the unforgiving wood. I flick my eyes around, desperately searching for the only eyes I want to stare into. The second my gaze locks with hers, I release a heavy pant through my nostrils.
I struggle to push myself back onto my feet. It doesn’t matter that Charles has a shit aim. The silver bullets feel like they’re incinerating me from the inside out.
One thing matters though.
Harley.
Get her out of here, Alicia.
But as I move my stare to Charles, who still has his gun pointed at me, I realize no one moves around me. I don’t take the time to assess the room. Instead, I take a step toward her. My leg gives out with that one step, making me stumble.
Her blue eyes stare up at me, tears streaming down her bloody face. I will make it to her. I will close the distance between us, even if it kills me. Before it kills me.
I’m sorry , she mouths.
I shake my head. How did we end up here? How did things go so unbelievably wrong? She has nothing to be sorry for. The only person who needs to apologize here is me.
I knew. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew who she was. Even if I never had the proof to back the belief that her parents were hunters—before she ever confirmed my suspicion— I knew . I always fucking knew.
My legs give out before I can make it to Harley. Less than five feet away, I crumble to the floor.
I think I hear her scream my name. I even think I see the ropes around her shoulders fall to the floor. But all I can focus on is the way my body feels too heavy and my heart beats too slow.
Picturing Harley’s beautiful face, I let the darkness pull me under.