Page 16 of Coveted By the Alpha Pack

I turn to follow Grace and Ethan. If I stay with the three stooges any longer, there will be another body hitting the floor in seconds.

Stepping outside, I turn my nose to the wind and start tracking Ethan and Grace to the north. Every sense is heightened, every muscle coiled with tension as I move with purpose through the darkness.

When I finally catch up to them, they’re curled up together post-rutting, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passion.

Shaking my head, I laugh a little. “I wasn’t gone that long,” I remark, my voice carrying a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Grace’s head pops up, and she smiles at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Is that a heart in your hand, or are you happy to see me?” she says, her tone playful as she teases me. On the same side as his wolf’s bite, I can see a fresh mark from Ethan’s claim, a reminder of their bond.

Grace rolls onto her belly to watch me approach, her gaze curious yet knowing. My eyes drop to my hand, and I shake my head in resignation.

“Luca ran his mouth. We are down to three contestants,” I explain, my voice heavy with the weight of what I’ve done. With a flick of my wrist, I pitch the heart into the lake, watching it hit the water with a splash. The ripples spreading out across the surface like echoes of the violence that has just unfolded.

“Good call,” Ethan nods, rising from his seat and swiftly beginning to dress. “I’m going to get them started on the strength challenge.” With a gesture back towards the village, he heads off, leaving me to ponder his words about Grace.

As Ethan disappears into the distance, Grace closes the gap between us, her grip firm on my wrist as she leads me towards the water. “Wash up. I don’t want blood on my outfit; it will never come out,” she instructs, a hint of laughter in her voice as she notices the spots where she’s bled through from Ethan’s bite. “Damn it.” A frustrated stomp of her foot punctuates her annoyance.

Chuckling softly, I find myself feeling a little lighter in her presence. The tension that had consumed me ebbs away slowly. Moving to the edge of the lake, I scrub my hands as best I can, the cool water soothing against my skin. With a resigned sigh, I dry my hands on my pants leg, grateful for the distraction.

Grace wraps an arm around my waist as we head back, her touch grounding me amidst the tension that hangs in the air. “How long do you think the trials will take place?” I figure I’d ask her since she’s the one hosting it.

I hear Grace hum softly as she ponders her answer, her expression thoughtful. “It all depends.”

The way she says it makes me stop in my tracks, a shiver running down my spine as I meet her gaze. “On what?” Now I’m truly curious, my heart pounding with anticipation.

“On if you and Ethan kill everyone,” she says it so innocently, yet her words carry a weight of foreboding, a reminder of the stakes we face.

There is no way in hell we would allow a ruthless, vindictive person to take the mantle of Alpha if we can prevent it. “True,” I agree, my voice firm with resolve. “The safety of the pack always comes first. That is after you and the pups. But that goes without saying.” I press a kiss to her temple, feeling her melt beside me, her sigh a mixture of comfort and apprehension.

As we approach the alpha house, a body comes flying out of the front door. It’s Quinn, and by the looks of it, his neck is snapped. My heart races at the sight, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I take in the scene before us.

Grace looks down at the body, studying it with an unnerving calmness, then shrugs her shoulders as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. I blink, shocked at her reaction, or rather, her lack of reaction. She steps over Quinn’s body and strides into the alpha house past the shattered door, her movements determined.

Inside, chaos reigns. Jack lies dead on the floor, her throat ripped out, while Bodhi holds his broken arm, and Ethan is impaled with a knife buried to the hilt in his trapezius muscle, lost to his rage.

“Who stabbed him?” I demand, my senses on high alert as I position myself, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. Grace moves into Ethan’s line of sight, attempting to get his attention amidst the frenzy.

Jakob lies either dead or knocked out half under a table, and Christos is holding his leg, his expression grim as he recounts the events. “Blake came in here. He did this. I don’t know what he had in that needle, but he stabbed Quinn with it and then Ethan with another one,” Christos explains, his voice tense with frustration and fear. “Whatever it did, it sent them both into a rage. Quinn killed Jack and then turned on Bodhi. He had enough time to break his arm before Jakob and I intervened.” He looks over at Jakob, the look in his eyes tells me he’s not sure if the elder is living.

“Ethan somehow managed to keep his rage under control until Quinn attacked us. Next thing we know, Ethan shoves us away from Quinn and destroyed him, sending him flying out the door,” Christos continues, his gaze shifting to Ethan, who watches Grace with a primal intensity.

“He won’t hurt her,” I assert, though the words feel more like a desperate plea for reassurance.

“Are you sure?” Christos questions as the healer tends to him.

“He sired her. His heart beats for her, and hers for him,” I reply, the realization dawning on me that in this moment of chaos and violence, my jealousy is utterly insignificant. Grace is our savior now, the one who holds the key to calming the storm raging within Ethan. I can only pray that she succeeds.

Grace drops to her knees before Ethan, a sense of urgency clear in her movements. With deft fingers, she unties her top, exposing the shoulder where his wolf’s bite lies. She rolls her head away from him, emitting a low whine that sends a shiver down my spine. The second time she whines, I feel an overwhelming urge to dive in and scoop her up, to protect her from whatever threat looms on the horizon. It’s in this moment that I see what she’s doing—her instinct to trigger Ethan’s protective instincts, to draw him to her side with her vulnerability.

“Wolfie... I’m scared...” Grace’s voice is frail, weak, and it’s the final straw for Ethan. With a suddenness that takes my breath away, he drops to his knees beside her, pulling her into his arms. We watch in silence as he runs his hands all over her, checking every inch of her for injury, his movements desperate yet tender.

“You’re safe, Darlin’. Nothing is going to hurt you,” he reassures her, his voice a soothing balm amid the chaos, as he runs his fingers through her hair.

“Will you let a healer take care of you?” I interject, my voice tinged with concern.

“I don’t need a...” Ethan begins, but his words trail off as he turns to look at me, his gaze falling on the knife embedded in his shoulder. “Oh... When did that get there?” He stops and looks around, his eyes scanning the scene before us. “Did I do all of this?” The realization dawns on him, and a look of confusion crosses his features.

“No, apparently there’s a traitor in the elder pack. Blake shot you up with a rage serum, as well as Quinn. Quinn did most of this. You killed him, then remained in attack mode until Grace got your attention,” I explain, trying to make sense of the chaos that surrounds us.

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