Page 169 of The Alpha King's Curse: Part Two

“Don’t kill her yet; just hurt her. I want Jackson to suffer.”

Chase looked into her eyes, and something flashed in them before they returned to being lifeless. Had he recognised her?

“What are you waiting for?” the witch snarled. “Hit her. Break some bones.”

But Chase didn’t move.

The witch stood and faced them. She was so young, not much older than she was by the looks of it. How did anyone like that live with themselves after doing something so heinous?

The witch pulled her arm back and punched her in the face, adding to the pain still slicing through her head. Chase dropped her, and she fell in a heap at the witch’s feet.

“I’ll do it myself then, shall I?”

With her ears ringing and her heart pounding, she looked up at the young woman as she picked up the knives that had fallen from her hands. They had no blood on them because she hadn’t been able to kill any of her people.

The witch pulled her hair and plunged one of her knives into her side. She screamed in pain, so much pain she almost passed out. And when she stopped, she heard Jackson’s pained howl. She heard his desperate attempt to reach her.

And she heard the witch's cackling as she looked back at him.

All of it sparked something inside her, and the same rage she’d felt with the Circle flooded her body. Something snapped. She felt it as her eyes started to glow and her pain faded.

It unfurled inside her, pushing as if it was ready to be released. It felt stronger than the rage. Stronger than all the fear she sensed from Jackson. It was pure darkness, unbending, unforgiving.

"We should get his baby to join the party," the witch said.

Her breath hitched.

Her eyes closed, and the thing inside her pushed through until it was all that was left of her.

Bones cracked. Her skin stretched and tore. Her limbs twisted in unnatural positions, taking her breath as a different pain filled her body.

And when she opened her eyes, the darkness was all she was.

The witch turned around after instructing the scary man to collect Hope, and the laughter died on her lips.

There were no thoughts in her head as she launched forward, bit down on the witch's arm, and pulled. The screams soothed her. They fed her and made her crave more. And so she took more. She felt nothing but that satisfaction as she tore into the witch until nothing was left.

Nothing.

And only when her cravings were satisfied, when there were no more screams and nothing left to sink her teeth into, did she raise her head.

The dark clouds were dissipating, and the sun started to shine through. The ground before her was littered with bodies and soaked with blood.

Jackson’s wolf stood in front of her, bloody and his flesh mangled. But alive. And behind him, all around her, men and wolves stood in the same battered condition.

Cain lifted his head and howled. The other wolves joined in.

She turned, trying to process what was happening as she looked around them. All the thoughts in her head were drifting off with the wind; she could not grasp them. Confusion rose within her. Something was wrong, and yet everything was as it should be.

She tripped over herself as she tried to run, and when she looked down, she saw a huge red paw matching all the blood she had shed. What was happening?

Their howls continued and called to something deep within her, and they settled her troubled mind. A sound came from her throat, unbidden, and it joined the symphony of howls.

When they stopped, there were more wolves around them. More people in their human forms. And children. And the scary man who had punched her from behind.

And they all lowered and bowed.

Jackson shifted and fell to his knees, naked and clutching his arm.

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