Page 80 of Wolf Hunter

Now?

We are on the same page. We have to destroy the competition.

We have to put them both in their places and make them understand the true hierarchy in this pack.

I attack like a wild beast, and real fear mixes with excitement as I launch myself at Crane. He shifts as well, and the two of us crash together in the middle of the table. The wood splits in two, the impact sending pieces scattering. His teeth tear at me as I go for the belly. We roll together, and I manage to come out on top and pin him beneath me.

A growl shows me he will not yield. His fangs crash against my leg as he tries to break through the skin and chomp down with pure force. A gasp tears through me at the sensation, and I stare down at his snarling face.

His sizealready puts me at a disadvantage.

Emily joins the fight moments later and takes hold of the scruff of my neck. She gives me a shake, sending me off balance so that I lose my grip on Crane. They work in tandem to get my back into a corner.

Tasha was right.

She told me to keep an eye on Emily as a joke, but now it seems there was some great truth to her jest. Had she seen something I didn’t?

My heart beats against my rib cage.

A mournful howl sounds in the distance, and I find myself moving forward, ready to fend off the monsters in my house. I don’t want to die. And it seems like I walked right into this battle.

My gaze fixates on the two of them stalking closer. My third-in-command, my omega. Not good, not fucking good at all. They glare at me with teeth bared and muscles tense, rallying around me like I’m some kind of fucking outsider.

Crane growls out a warning before darting forward and burying his teeth near my shoulder.

Pain shreds through me, my skin splitting open and blood dripping on the floor. I howl out a warning to the rest of the pack and wonder who will come.

If anyone.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Tasha

Awitch trial. A damn modern-day witch trial, and who do you think they have tied to the stake this time? That’s right. Little ol’ me.

I never thought in a million years it would come to this point. Maybe this is why I’ve stayed away from witch covens for so long.

They’re all assholes.

Those thoughts don’t help me free myself. Neither do the doubts. The way a small part of me thinks about death and how it might be welcome after all this time. I think about all the people I’ve lost and who I might see on the other side. People like Carmen.

That kills me more than anything.

I’d known I failed her before now, that I’d been a shitty sister and an even worse protector. But the time for struggling against my own guilt and shame is over.

I’ll have to use everything at my disposal to find a way out of this one and stand against every fucking witch in the country to find my sister.

They all have their own agendas and their own strange sets of rules that don’t make any sense. And dirty politics, too. As evidenced by the fact that the moment the truth serum wore off, Mae had her goons strap me down to a chair with a sealing spell while I awaited a trial.

A bullshit trial, might I add. I already know the outcome.

This is just her way of getting me to feel at ease. She wants to lull me into a false sense of complacency because she already knows what I can do. What power I bring to the table.

Correction: brought to the table.

My powers are done.

The trial will consist of Mae acting as judge while the rest of the coven sits around me in a semicircle going over what they heard of myconfession.

---