Page 89 of The Alpha King's Fate

“You know I’m right. I’m heading out there knowing I’m probably not coming out of this alive. Look after my little girl, Dylan.”

Dylan blinked and didn’t meet his gaze. He walked to stand in front of his friend, his head clear for the first time since the Hunters took Layla. His rage was still simmering inside him, but it felt more controlled. More focussed. He’d fallen so deep into his and his beast’s combined darkness that he would probably never be the same man again. It was a strange middle ground, a vortex. The same urge to burn the world to the ground for Layla and yet another part of him recognised the need to look after his other loved ones. That was something he’d never been able to do before.

If this was goodbye, he didn’t want Dylan to have any regrets. He didn’t want Dylan to think he should have tried harder to stop him or come with him. The outcome would be the same whether Dylan came or not. He was throwing himself into the depths of hell to save his mate; nothing would stop that.

“Don’t worry about me. I was always going to die in a blaze of glory,” he continued. “And you were always going to be the level-headed one who would pick up the pieces and take care of the pack. Go home, brother. They’re freaking out now because we’ve separated them from their kids and they don’t know what’s happening. They need you more than I do.”

He put an arm around his friend, something he rarely did, and then released him when the emotions became too much. He was unstable enough with his feelings without having to add anyone else’s. He headed for the staff hallway without looking back.

“Layla’s father will be in touch once he has settled. And I’ll call you once I’m in the city.”

When he reached the hidden exit, he was still in the middle of the violent emotions whirling around him. Cain used to do that. When his beast felt too much rage, he retreated, and that was when he was the most dangerous. He and Cain were the same now. One in a way they had never been before.

It was pitch black in the middle of the night, so no one saw him when he slipped out of the building. The car park was nearly empty, but men in their uniforms were still set up at a safe distance, waiting to check the gas leak. He slipped back into the shadows as he headed to the back of the hotel.

Bystanders looked at his hotel across the road, curious about what happened, but no one looked in his direction. The moment he reached the forest, he ripped his clothes off, shifting within seconds. And then he took the same path back out of the city. Tree trunks whizzed past, chunks of dirt and debris flying in his wake. The nocturnal animals scurried out of his way, aware of the danger brewing within him. Once again, he was struck by how fast he was. Knowing that his mate was just as fast and maybe as strong gave him a little hope. It gave him hope to believe she could evade the Hunters as she hid from the vampires.

But how did she get caught in the first place?

It took him an hour to reach the outskirts of Beacon Falls. It was the neighbouring city, and not too long ago, he’d stopped there with Layla on their way to meet The Circle. He'd sensed Hunter activity everywhere. It should have been the first place he looked when he confirmed Layla was gone.

At a dingy motel, in the back of the car park again, was another emergency car. Cain relinquished control and shifted, allowing him to find the keys and unlock the old car. The town was even smaller than Wolfdale, so there was hardly any activity. There were just a few open bars and late-night takeaway places—the usual human drunks and party lovers.

No Hunters. He couldn’t sense them as he had when they’d been on their way to the trial. There must have been a hunting party in town that day.

He dressed quickly and pulled out the burner phone from the glove compartment. He sent a quick message to Dylan to confirm he had arrived, and the reply was Irvine Jones’ details.

Dylan didn't need to worry about him finding Irvine by himself. As a Hunter, the kid would have been trained never to talk. But whether he opened his mouth or not, he would still lead him to Layla.

The car took him to a quiet neighbourhood on the other side of the city and parked away from the address Dylan gave him. Irvine’s house was a nondescript bungalow that looked harmless on the outside, but he could smell the wolfsbane a mile away. His eyes quickly picked up the areas where the earth was disturbed. Traps. And a lot of silver. Like any Hunter’s house, it was probably deadly to a wolf.

But the kid was there alone. He could smell that scent of death just as much as the wolfsbane.

He walked slowly across the backyard to avoid the obvious traps until he came to the back door. Silver door handle. There were probably millions of traps aimed at the door, too.

He shoved the bolted door in and stood aside. As expected, an arrow whizzed past him and then another. Silver-tipped with a hint of wolfsbane. Something else, too, by the smell of it.

His senses locked on the Hunter, who was now awake somewhere in the back. He heard the shuffling of feet, the cocking of a gun. And he smelt the fear. The terror.

He took it all in as his body started to change and his claws extended.

They wanted the war; they got it. They would all perish by his hand.

Chapter 41

He looked as terrifying as the day he blew Amber’s brains out, even more so because of the smirk on his scarred face that looked unnatural. His hair was still in a military buzz cut, and his brown eyes were just as dead as the Hunters who led her into the room.

On her knees, his size was intimidating. His arms were massive, his muscles bulging, and his black vest top looked too small. She usually liked tattoos, especially Jax's, but this man's sleeve tattoos seemed too severe. Almost as if their message was as full of hate as he was.

“I apologise for bringing you out so late,” he said as he walked forward. “I normally like to greet my guests straight away, but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She shuffled back until he stopped, a grin on his face that showed how excited he was with the situation.

“Look at you. You act like a meek little lamb; it’s easy to see why anyone would be taken in by the fake innocence,” the man said with a chuckle.

“Who are you? What’s this about?”

Her voice was shaky as she pulled herself back to her knees. Her head pounded so hard, and the cut on her forehead continued to bleed. She wasn't healing.

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