Page 10 of Sold to the Alpha Wolf

Just gone.

The pop of that fucking glass cracking a bit more echoed in the silent room. Smoke billowed slightly, and my stomach felt like a hollow pit.

Grayson had returned a few hours ago with his message successfully delivered to the Collins pack. They’d sent their own messenger not an hour ago, saying the alpha and his inner circle were on their way with their offering for retribution.

“Offering. Pfft. I expect Collins’ blood for Edwards’. That fucking murderer’s head is going to decorate a pike at the head of our territory.”

Another pop of the fire, and I was about ready to douse the damn thing so I didn’t have to listen to it whine.

Knock, knock, knock.

“What.” The growl was thick in my voice.

Kaiden’s words slipped through the door, along with his scent of apprehension and anger. “They’re here.”

Shooting up out of my chair, I hurried to the door, yanking it open, and stepped out into the hall. The house was quiet as I walked to the entry. Kaiden was tight on my heels, following in step with me as I stalked across the deep mahogany floor. Grayson fell into ranks alongside him from a door to the right, and then MacKenzie stepped in from yet another on the left.

With every step, each member of my pack came to the hall and followed after me. My entire family, what remained of them, standing at my back with the thunderous boom of their rage and grief flooding the compound to the rafters.

Stopping at the base of the stairs that went up to the second floor, I looked straight ahead at the double doors that led into my home.

“Show them in.”

Grayson nodded, lowering his head, and then stepped up to the doors, pulling them wide.

Before me, looking pleasingly haggard from the trip here, stood Terrance Collins. Alpha of the Collins pack—a pack we all knew that he stole from its rightful leader by slaughtering him and any available heir.

Terrance was a foul wolf, his essence tainted by the stench of malicious greed and an obsession with power. Animals, true wolves, didn’t hunt for sport or power or entertainment. Terrance did all three. He’d been excommunicated from several packs before staging a coup and wresting control of the pack he now claimed.

The Andrews. That was who the pack had been before, and I was confident that their departed alpha was rolling in his tomb at the sight of what his pack had become.

Growls hummed in the space behind me as Terrance stepped forward across the threshold. He was flanked by two of his pack, likely more of his betas, but I couldn’t scent the wolf whose stench had covered Deacon’s body.

“Where is the killer, Collins?”

Grayson stood at the other alpha’s back, shutting the door behind him and taking up the space there. At my left, Kaiden’s rumbling snarl increased, and I could sense MacKenzie doing the same a few paces back toward the stairs.

“Edwards,” Terrance chewed out his words, grinding them between his clenched teeth, “I am horrified by the actions of my beta. He is being disciplined as we speak.”

“He should be dead.”

The gravelly voice of Leon snapped out across the room. I flicked my gaze to the young man, pushing through our alpha bond for him to back down. He lowered his head, stepping backward, but not without glaring at Terrance. I appreciated the wolf’s fervor as much as this situation still called for diplomacy—at least for the time being.

Turning back toward Terrance, I leveled him with a cold stare. “My pack has a point, Collins. Why have you not presented your beta for sacrificial retribution? Do you, in fact, wish to go to war?”

Terrance visibly stiffened, his jaw muscles working as he kept himself from saying something he’d regret. His right-hand wolves grumbled quietly at his back, and he held up a hand, silencing them.

“Edwards.” With his hand still outstretched, Terrance flicked his fingers forward, gesturing for one of his wolves to step forward. “We have come before you to offer your retribution. We do not wish to see war.”

The wolf beneath him lowered himself to the ground. For a moment, I believed Terrance meant to offer his pathetic hide as payment. I’d claim his life if he’d really have it that way, but this sacrifice would be nothing to appease my pack. I wanted the killer in my hands.

But his man held up his arms, presenting an iron sigil. It was the depiction of an omega’s crest of the birthing age. They were gifted to omegas by the alpha when they would be deemed fit for breeding. My mouth fell open as I recoiled back from the man.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

The pack crowded closer to me, and Terrance rolled his lips between his teeth as his eyes fell to the floor.

“Edwards Alpha,” he lowered his head, “I hope that you will find a suitable retribution in the payment of my omega. She is of breeding age, unmated, and I offered up the chance to birth more of my own pack with her to you.”

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