Page 110 of The Alpha King's Curse: Part Two

The red haze filled his vision, and a warning growl came from the darkest depths of him. Ryker stilled as if he had noticed what was happening. And then he rose so quickly that the chair crashed back into the table behind him.

“You won’t win this one, Jackson King,” Ryker growled as he rushed to the table and picked up a sharp axe. “‘I’ll chop you down first and then your bastard kid.”

He clenched his fists and felt the blood start to flow in him. Cain took control of him and pulled one arm down, ripping it from the ceiling before he flung it around Ryker’s neck like a lasso. The Alpha swore and dropped his axe to remove the silver from his skin.

The smell of burning flesh filled the room.

And the scent of fear.

He took a deep breath to savour it as he pulled the other arm down. He whipped the chain down Ryker’s back just before the Alpha reached for another tool.

“You fucking bastard,” Ryker hissed.

“Alpha!” someone shouted from outside. “Shall we come in?”

“No!” Ryker ordered.

Pride. There was no one prouder than Alpha Ryker. He was too proud to bow to a king, so he settled his pack on the fringes of society, where he was a law to himself. He was too proud to admit Richard King had been a better man than he, even when he was well into his madness. He was too proud to admit that he needed a hand to fight the king.

His senses started to recover. He counted at least ten people outside the room, all ready to jump in and save Ryker.

Bending, he broke the chains on his feet and set upon Ryker. The man was strong, so a few seconds of contact with silver wouldn’t keep him down. He threw an uppercut that sent the Alpha crashing into his torture tools. The table broke, and all the tools clattered to the floor. The sound echoed throughout the room but his men still didn't intervene. They were still held by their Alpha's command.

Ryker rushed to his feet and charged at him, but he was ready. He dodged the huge fist almost the size of his head and twisted so he had Ryker in a chokehold. On any other day, he would have drawn the match out, but he had to get to Layla.

He could sense her. The bond felt weak, but he could sense Layla's distress.

The heavy chains were still on his arms, so he wrapped them around Ryker's neck and tightened them just as the door crashed open, and his men rushed into the room.

They stopped when they saw their strong Alpha struggling for breath and unable to move the silver from his body.

"What did you do to the human?" he growled.

"Nothing. Nothing. We didn't go over there," one of the men answered. "We just picked you up outside our gates."

The truth.

He loosened his hold on Ryker so he could breathe.

"Don't get pulled into shit you know nothing about. You've lived this long only because you've stayed out of my way."

When he shoved Ryker away from him, he stumbled and fell to his knees. When he started to stand, he growled in warning.

And the proud Alpha stayed on his knees, submitting against his will.

He didn't stop to give any more warnings. He ran through Ryker's rundown settlement and shifted the moment he was out of the gates. Layla was the priority; he would deal with Ryker and his wounded ego afterwards.

There was no magic in the grass field—nothing to stop him from running at full speed towards his mate.

But the closer he got, the more fear he sensed. Something was wrong at the hideout.

Chapter 55

Layla bit the blanket and clutched the bedding through another contraction. Tears fell unchecked down her cheeks. She’d endured hours of the pain, and now it was almost continuous.

But the labour pain was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

The pack had returned from the woods without Jackson with nothing but lies on their lips. Dylan said Jackson would be with her as soon as he could, but where was he? If he was okay, why could she sense all that despair in the air? Why had Faith been crying? And why had they called more people from the pack to gather in the back garden?

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