Page 137 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

I turned to place myself between Grandmother and the white werewolf, who gave me a half-grin as she slid to a stop. She backed away, her tail wagging.

Grandmother snaked a hand around my neck and dug her thumb and forefingers into my neck where it met my chin. My rapid pulse thrummed against her fingers, though my heart felt frozen by her betrayal.

She placed a dagger to my throat just below her hand. I swallowed, feeling the blade dig into my larynx with the movement. I froze.

“What a wonderful granddaughter you are. You were always so driven by what was right. Too bad you outlived your usefulness.”

The white werewolf sat, cocking her head with a lazy grin creasing those long, pearly teeth as blood slowly dripped down her back leg to pool on the floor.

“You were such a promising child. So full of fire. If only you had followed my teachings and the teachings of those who came before. Then you would have been my successor in truth.”

“I was never going to be your successor,” I said.

“Of course you were. You were the chosen. Bred specifically for your parents’ qualities over generations. You were the accumulation of your ancestors’ hopes and dreams. The strongest of us against the strongest of them. You were our prodigy… and you broke it all. For what?” She tsked. “You forced me into this, dear girl. Forced me into siding with the enemy to gain back my rightful place. Such a shame.” She shook her head.

“I may keep you. You could still be of use. Just not as you are now…” The knife left my throat. She dragged it down my collarbone and then pressed against the back of my shoulder, slowly piercing right where the ligament meets the joint. I tried to jerk away, but her fingers tightened around my throat, nearly cutting off my airway. My struggles to pry her fingers off were futile as she held me there, blood making a warm trail down my back.

A growl eruptedbehindme. The heavy weight of my grandmother was ripped from my back. I spun. Shen was standing between my grandmother and me, his head low to the ground and foam dropping from his lips. I turned, putting my back to his so I could watch the white werewolf.

“You two may keep each other. This tribe is finished. Have fun dying,” Grandmother said. She threw down an orb. It exploded, smoke billowing and making fire race down through nose to my lungs.

I darted forward, my knife outstretched, but Grandmother was no longer there.

By the time we finished coughing, it was just us and a white werewolf. Scratch that. She was flanked by another werewolf, a black werewolf with a white-tipped tail and two white ears.

Shen

Alia was bleeding.My mate smelled of pain.

And I wanted blood, a thousand times over, to pay for every drop of her precious lifeblood that had been spilled. But the one who had wounded her was gone.

I turned. Mother was here. And so was my eldest sister, her eyes questioning as she stared between me and Alia. I needed to be able to speak, so I shifted into my human form.

Alia’s grandmother must have been working with them this entire time. Which confused me.

It appeared her grandmother was not strong enough to amass the power she craved while greater, more powerful beingsoutclassed her, so she sent the assassins she brainwashed to do her dirty work.

But why all this? Why take out the tribe she worked so hard to build? Unless she was near her goal and no longer had need of them.

My mother shifted into her human form, standing to her full height. Her eyes filled with tears. She reached out her hand, taking a step toward me.

“You are at last strong enough to lead, my precious child. Long have I awaited the day for you to shake off the chains, to find your freedom. For now, you are strong enough to be Alpha King. To take your rightful place as ruler of this realm.”

Beatrice transformed, her body cracking and popping as smooth skin replaced her dark fur. She remained on her knees and stared at mother. “What?”

I thought Mother had said this before merely to get a rise from me. But she truly meant formeto take over the pack? The son she abhorred?

“You were only ever a placeholder, my dear,” Mother told Beatrice. “Your brother has always been the true heir.”

What was Mother’s angle here?

Regardless, Mother had miscalculated. Beatrice was the loyal one. A loyal werewolf could handle many things. Except betrayal.

“I am not your heir?” Beatrice’s voice was oddly sweet. Beatrice was not sweet.

Mother stared at Beatrice. “Did you not realize? A female is not meant to lead. You and I were merely placeholders for my son. I have given my life to train him up in the ways of a powerful warrior Alpha?—”

“You taught me nothing of strength, Mother,” I said.

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