Page 52 of Impregnated By the Alpha

Long, grey hair pulled back in a bun, she’d fixed her eyes on Jonah. Despite her age, they were still piercing. “Our pack is crumbling like a cliff into the sea. We must stop Evans before he goes too far, or I’m afraid nothing will be left for you to lead.”

He saw the toll the years had taken on her etched in the sun-worn face, the hunch in her shoulders. A pack could not survive on legend alone.

“Can you help me?” He’d asked, desperate for a clue that might lead him to Evans.

In her hesitance, Jonah watched her battle against the desire to let the cliffs crumble, to shirk responsibility as Jonah’s father had. In the end, she’d pointed him to Evelyn’s home. He shouldn’t have been surprised after the way she’d spoken to Rami, but it still stung.

Back in the kitchen, Jonah shook the memory from his mind and focused on Moira.

“Evelyn?” She was saying, frowning into her coffee cup. “She wouldn’t support him in any of this.”

“She supports his bid for alpha and probably doesn’t know what he’s doing to get there. I don’t think she’d hurt you.” He reached across the table for her hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it.

She didn’t pull away. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?”

Moira pushed her chair back and went to the bedroom to change, pulling on her clothes from the night before. “Mrs. Alden is still missing, and Vera was attacked. There’s no time to waste.”

He hurried to follow, chasing her down the stairs. She was already a wolf when he reached her, and the moment he stepped outside, she took off, leading the way to Evelyn’s house on the far side of the Silversand town. Evelyn lived in a bungalow on the outskirts of the cemetery. Bushes overwhelmed the exterior, covering the front door in branches.

“She should be at class.” Moira slinked around the side of the house where a sprawling, overgrown backyard met the sloping hill of the cemetery’s side.

The house looked empty. Jonah trotted beside her, scenting the air for a sign of either Evans or Evelyn. He caught the stink of something else instead—decay. It hit Moira at the same time. She abruptly stopped, and he had to twist to keep from bumping into her.

“She’s fine. We know she’s fine.” He reassured her. They’d seen her in the coffee shop as they’d passed, but hopefully, she hadn’t seen them.

“Then what is it?” She wondered, her mind’s voice tremulous.

Jonah had his theories but kept them to himself, instead choosing to take the lead into the thicket of weeds that made up the yard. The scent grew stronger, overwhelming his sensitive nose and drowning out the smell of the grass crushed beneath his feet and everything else.

When they stumbled on the rectangular patch of dirt hidden in the weeds, they knew they’d found the source of the smell.

“Wait over there.” He sent it to Moira, but she shook her head and started to dig, paws flinging up the loose dirt with ease.

It wasn’t long before they uncovered the body. An old woman lay in the hollowed ground, arms crossed over her chest. Jonah couldn’t smell blood or find any obvious sign of injury, but she’d been dead for a while, and the decay had set in.

“Mrs. Alden,” Moira confirmed what Jonah suspected. He hung his head at the pain in Moira’s words.

But there was no time to comfort her. Movement through the tall grass alerted him to the wolf’s approach. Jonah snarled a warning to Moira and lunged. Evans was strong and solid, and even with the full force of Jonah’s attack, he managed to keep his ground. He spun for Jonah with his jaws wide, reaching for his throat. Ducking beneath it, Jonah sank his teeth into his foreleg and felt fur give way to skin and flesh, tasting the hot spurt of blood into his mouth.

Moira joined the fight, nipping at Evans from behind, forcing him to divide his attention. Helpful as it was, Jonah wished she had stayed back in safety. He raked his teeth down the enemy wolf’s flank as Evans turned to face Moira and watched red paint the tawny fur. But Evans was not cowed. His ferocity grew until he was a whirlwind of teeth and claws.

Darting in, Jonah reached for the larger wolf’s hind leg and found purchase. But Evans was ready for him. He caught Jonah by the back of the neck and shook, sending Jonah crashing into the weeds. His head cracked against a stone. Moira yelped, dodging backward as Evans reached for her. Jonah was slow to get to his feet; the wind knocked from his chest, head spinning with pain.

He struggled for air, stumbling back toward the fight, but Evans, having lost the element of surprise, seemed to sense his poor odds. With Jonah hamstrung, he took the chance to flee. Moira ran after him, harrying him as he went, nipping at his flank and legs, whatever she could reach, like a mother bird chasing a hawk from its nest. The ringing in his ears increased as he ran after them, his steps slow like he was churning through the mud.

Moira circled back, searching for him, as Evans made his escape yet again. Despite the bitterness of losing him to the woods, Jonah was glad to see her. One-on-one, Moira would struggle against the huge wolf.

“How bad is it?” She asked, supporting him as he had done for her.

His head ached, and his vision blurred, but he couldn’t let Evans run free. He’d already murdered one person and attempted to murder two others.

“I’ll live.” But being alive wouldn’t be a very pleasant experience for the next few hours.

“Where do you think he’s going? Now that we’ve flushed him out of his hiding spot.” Moira looked anywhere but at the open grave where poor Mrs. Alden lay.

“I have no idea,” He admitted. Tilting his head back to the sky, he let out a long, mournful howl to call the rest of the pack to him. “But we need to show the pack what has happened here and give Mrs. Alden a proper burial. Everyone is on high alert. He won’t be able to catch them unaware, and it’s us he’s after anyway.”

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