Page 21 of Finding Forever with the Alpha Pack

Time meansnothing to me right now. Every heartbeat pulses with rage as I watch Blake, convinced he’s still moving. Again, I lunge forward, sinking my canines deeper into his flesh, the taste of blood fueling the inferno inside me. Two more beings dared to enter my space, and I shredded them without a second thought. My fury burns through every nerve, scorching hotter with every passing second I’m left to roam this house.

Every sound sets me off, sending me skidding through the halls, searching, hunting. Anything tossed into the house becomes a target, torn to pieces. My thoughts are muddled, lost to whatever drug courses through me, warping my senses. I can’t think, I can only react, driven by instinct and searing anger.

The door slams open with a deafening bang, the sharp creak of its hinges slicing through the haze clouding my thoughts. I whipmy head around, heart pounding as the metallic tang of blood clogs my throat, my paws slipping in the sticky pool beneath me. The scent is overpowering, suffocating, but the sound pulls me, drags me forward despite the heaviness in my limbs.

And then I see him.

A massive gray and white wolf fills the doorway, muscles rippling beneath his coat, his growl rumbling low and steady, shaking the very walls. My body tenses, every fiber of my being on high alert. There’s something about him—something that sets him apart from any other wolf I’ve faced. He’s dangerous.Deadly.The air thickens with it, an oppressive weight pressing down on my chest.

The chill creeps up my spine, my instincts screaming that he’s not just a threat—he’sthethreat. But it’s not fear that ripples through me, not yet. It’s anger. His audacity to stand there, unshaken, calm, as if this is his territory. As ifIam the trespasser. He’s too controlled, too deliberate. This isn’t a random encounter. This is a challenge.

The rage, raw and violent, bubbles beneath my skin, igniting my blood. I brace myself, muscles coiled, blood-soaked fur rising along my spine. A low snarl builds in my throat. My eyes lock on his, and I know—this isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

The gray and white wolf prowls closer, his eyes locked on mine. I plant my feet, refusing to back down. My body tenses as a deep growl rises from my throat, vibrating through my chest. Behind him, I swear I see Ethan and Griffin watching, their familiar shapes just a blur in the distance. Or maybe I’m just wishing I could see them. My mind feels like it’s splintering, fragments of reality slipping away with each passing second. I can’t trust what’s real anymore.

Lay down.The thought echoes in my head, soft and insistent.Rest. Let the drugs wear off.I don’t know if it’s my mind or their voices urging me to give in. But I can’t. My heartbeat pounds in my skull, a relentless war drum driving me forward. There’s no room for rest, not yet. I think... I think Blake is finally dead.

If that’s true, I can call my mates and babies home. I can bring them back. But this intruder... this wolf in front of me, he needs to be dealt with first. His presence is a threat I can’t ignore. And maybe, just maybe, once he’s gone, the hallucinations of my mates will fade. Maybe then I can finally let myself rest. But for now, I grit my teeth, steeling myself. The fight isn’t over yet.

Chapter 15

Nicolai

Ethan’spanicked call was probably one of the worst I’ve ever received. Grace—our mate—stabbed with not one but two doses of the rage serum. My heart sinks as I flash back to Wolverton, to the devastation that the serum caused. I already know the hell I’m walking into.

The minute I arrive, the air shifts—thick with fury, a suffocating wave radiating from her. It crashes over me, pulling me under. Through the bond, I feel the undercurrent of fear threading through her rage. A sharp pulse that comes and goes like an irregular heartbeat.

Griffin stands beside me, eyes wide as he peers through the window, his body tense. “What do you want us to do?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder will draw Grace’s attention.

But it’s too late. A low, guttural growl rises from inside, and I see her. Grace, blood dripping from her muzzle. Her eyes—wild, unrecognizable—lock onto Griffin, and she presses her snout against the glass, barking and snarling. Her claws scrape against the window, leaving streaks of blood behind.

“We need to wear her down first. Then I’ll distract her.” My voice is steady, but inside, my gut churns. I reach into my jacket and pull out a bottle, the faint clinking of syringes following. “We’ve got to knock her out, let the serum burn itself out.” I toss the bottle to Griffin, watching as he quickly draws up the sedative into four syringes, his hands shaking just a little.

He hands two off to Ethan, who looks at me with a tight jaw. “I should be the one to go in,” he insists, already tugging off his shirt, revealing the scars from past fights—reminders of what we’ve all survived together.

“No,” I say firmly, stopping him with a hand to his chest. “You need to be the one to keep her calm after she’s injected. You can help her shift back once she’s knocked out. But I’m going in.” My hands are steady as I strip down, leaving a pile of clothes at my feet.

The moon is high above us, casting an eerie glow over everything. The rich scent of blood lingers in the cool night air, clinging to the scene like a ghost. It’s her blood—Grace’s—and whoever was unlucky enough to cross her path tonight. She’s an ember wolf now, and with two doses of that serum raging through her veins, she’s twice as lethal. Twice as wild. I can’t risk Ethan going in and getting killed. If that happens, we lose our only shot at pulling Grace back from the edge.

I let my shift take over; the bones snapping and reforming as my wolf rises to the surface. The gray and white of my fur blends seamlessly with the moonlight filtering through the canopy of trees, casting long shadows over the clearing. My ears twitch, picking up the faint sounds of movement around the house. Griffin, Ethan, and what remains of his MC circle the perimeter, tapping on the glass or hurling objects at the windows, trying to keep Grace distracted. It’s a shitty plan, but it’s the only onewe’ve got. The tension in the air is thick, palpable, as we all know how fragile this situation is.

Grace is relentless, chasing every sound, every object with a fury that makes my gut twist. It’s been an hour of this, and I can feel her slowing down. The exhaustion is setting in.Now’s our chance.

‘Let me in there,’I say through the bond, my voice a low growl.

Griffin hesitates, but Ethan doesn’t. He moves with purpose, throwing the door open with a loud crash that reverberates through the house, the sound like a starting gun. My muscles tense as I hear the pounding of Grace’s paws racing toward us. The telltale squeal of her claws slipping on the blood-slicked floor before she regains traction. The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, sharp and nauseating.

She emerges from the hallway, and my heart clenches. Grace looks like she’s been through hell and back—a war to end all wars. Her once-pure white coat is stained deep vermillion, blood soaked into the fur along her muzzle, chest, and paws. Her head lowers, muscles taut, and her hackles rise in a clear warning. Those red-orange eyes lock onto me, burning with a feral intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.

For a split second, her gaze flickers—gold flashing through the red. Recognition? Maybe of us. Or maybe just Ethan.

Either way, it might make this a little easier. But that flicker disappears as quickly as it came, and the flames of rage return, hotter than before. She’s ready to fight, and we need to be careful. One wrong move, and this could all go sideways.

‘Griff, get Barrett on the phone. Make him call her name. Or better yet, have him get Ashina to call for her mother.’My voiceis low, tense, as I keep my eyes locked on Grace. One wrong move, and this whole situation could spiral out of control.

‘One of the two should make her hesitate. We need an opening to get the sedative into her system.’I can feel the weight of time slipping through our fingers, the urgency in the air thick and stifling.

Griffin steps back, and I brace myself, my heart pounding in my chest. Grace takes a slow step forward, her movements more animal than human, her eyes gleaming with wild intent. The red-orange in her irises flickers like a warning. Ethan moves closer, exaggerating his southern drawl in a desperate attempt to reach her.

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