Page 6 of Sold to the Alpha Wolf

“MacKenzie!” Grayson hollered, dragging one of my pack across the floor. “He needs you!”

The copper scent of blood hit my nose gunshot-hard, and I reeled backward.

“Deacon?!”

Kenzie and I shot forward, the healer going straight to my beta’s side. I was there at his other, and Kaiden was right on my heels, taking the place at Deacon’s head.

“What happened?” My voice was a low growl, the angry power of the alpha flowing through the words.

I knew I didn’t need to use my station on Grayson like that. Still, it was instinctual. My beta was covered in too much red, and my stomach lurched as I raked my eyes over him.

“Deacon was coming back from hunting. He’d hit the southern woods. All I could get out of him was that he’d been going after a trespasser.”

A furious burn radiated through my blood. Someone had come onto our land? If he’d been defending us, this was a fucking murder, and I’d have whoever did this strung up by their guts. I lowered my nose to Deacon’s brown hair, tussled and matted with blood. I breathed deeply. I needed more information. I needed to know who—

There it was. “Collins.”

MacKenzie’s working fingers stilled as I bit out the word, and each of the other wolves with me growled low beneath their breath.

“Are you sure?” Kaiden’s concern seeped into his voice, but I snapped at him regardless.

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, Alpha.” He lowered his head, looking down at Deacon and squeezing his hand.

I shook my head, clenching my jaw as I tried to rationalize against the roiling fury that soared higher within me.

“Kaiden, what can you smell?”

Trusting him with another scenting showed good faith, and he nodded before moving closer to take in a deep breath of Deacon’s smell along with all the others that might provide clues.

“I can smell that burn of Collins. It’s familiar, a wolf we had problems with in the past. There’s Douglas fir and a middle-aged buck. And…alcohol. In the other wolf’s blood. They were drinking? When they were out hunting?”

Rolling my eyes, tension radiated through my jaw and made me ball my hands into fists.

“The Collins don’t prioritize safety or secrecy. I’ve run into a few myself on the edges of our property, drunk and looking for a quick kill.”

The seconds dragged on, and I returned my attention to Kenzie. As she worked to assess his injuries, she spoke her findings aloud. The rest of the pack started running in from the other rooms. The sound of their footsteps, their fucking breathing, was too loud.

“Fractured ribs. I think one punctured his lung.” Just then, Deacon’s eyes flared wide as he coughed, blood splattering onto his lips. “Dammit. Yeah. He’s got contusions on his abdomen. There’s claw marks here, and…”

We hung in stillness as she probed his neck. After a moment, her eyes widened. She sat back on her heels, and Kenzie’s brows knit together as a watery sheen coated those deep blue irises.

“Bite marks. In the jugular. He’s not…” She struggled to speak, her normally calm ocean air scent going haywire. “He’s…not going to make it.”

“No!” The word roared out of me with the force of a train. “Fix him!”

Kenzie’s sobs echoed through the room as Kaiden gripped Deacon’s hand. Aside from the cough, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t moved in far too long, now.

“Come on, brother.” I lowered my forehead to his. “Open those eyes. I’m not done yelling at you, not by longshot.”

But there was just stillness, and in the seconds that passed, grating over me like a jagged blade over rough scabs, Deacon’s body went utterly limp, his scent dying in my nose.

“He’s gone,” MacKenzie said—low, quiet, and still.

I felt like she’d screamed the loss of my beta, one of my dearest friends, to the fucking stars. I roared into the room, shaking the walls with its ferocity. How could this happen? Deacon had been one of the best hunters and fighters that I knew. He’d served me for decades as my beta.

We’d grown up together.

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