Page 57 of Brutal Alpha Bully

Shifting shoots through my system like a shot of espresso, leaving behind the clean, burning trail like whiskey down the throat. It sharpens my senses, floods my muscles with predatory power.

The scent of Declan’s fear cuts through everything—the smoke and ash, Nora’s scent, Kalen shouting at me from over my uncle’s shoulder.

I tried to give this man mercy, to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even after seeing him crouched over my father like that. Even knowing, just from the look on his face, that my father’s death wasn’t wholly accidental.

But mercy is what my father would have offered. It’s the way of a good leader.

I gave my mercy to Declan, and her wasted it.

My uncle lunges for me again, going for my jugular, but I’m ready for it this time, dodging him and kicking up, sending out wolves tumbling over. Declan thrashes wildly when I land on top, my paws pinning him down.

His claws kick out, looking for purchase on my shoulders and chest. I should bury my maw in his neck, shake him out like a limp doll. Years of rage pour out of me—rage at his corruption, his willingness to sell out the pack. To destroy innocent lives, just to make some money.

Rage at the way he threatened my daughter. He held a knife to her throat. Treated her like a bargaining chip.

The wolf in me wants to take my time, to play with him, to sit on him like this and use my weight to squeeze the life from him. To fight him until he’s so weak from exhaustion that I can take him apart piece by piece, ripping off his legs and listening to his howling like sweet music.

My wolf wants the pleasure of his pain.

The human in me wants him dead.

And through all of it, I know that Nora is here. That she’s watching this play out. That this will be an example to her in the future, should she ever take over as alpha supreme of the pack.

So I snap at him, burying my teeth in his throat and ending this once and for all.

He fights, but starts to wane sooner than I thought, his struggles growing weaker, his movements becoming more frantic and uncoordinated. Blood mats his fur and flows around his eyes, staining my muzzle copper red. His blood tastes rotten,like you would expect from a man pumping his body full of drugs.

Declan’s eyes roll back in his head.

This is for my pack, I think.This is for my daughter.

And finally, though there’s no proof of this and I’ll never really get closure, I add,And this is for my dad.

The final snap of Declan’s neck is almost anti-climactic.

Moving with certainty, I drag his body to the edge of the cliff and toss it over, watching it tumble into the smoke, disappearing from sight long before it hits the ground below.

The wolf is satisfied. Ready to sleep for years. But that relief is short-lived. Just as I shift back to my human form, feeling the screaming pain of my ribs more acutely, daemon fire starts to roar around us.

During this episode, we’ve been so focused on Declan, on playing out this drama, that we haven’t been paying attention to the flames around us, growing nearer. Closing in on us.

The heat is overwhelming, and the smoke makes my eyes burn. My truck—along with the extinguisher—is at the bottom of the cliff. Even if I had the energy left to fight, I don’t have any of my equipment.

Phina shouts something at me, standing with Nora held close to her side, but I can’t hear them. As we realize the fire is all around us, the seven of us back into a tight circle, coughing and struggling, arms up futilely over our mouths.

My mind races to find a solution to this, to think of something we can do.

Soren starts to cough harder at my side, and this time, nobody bothers to pound at his back to help the stuff out. We’re not clear of it, and it’s going nowhere.

The fire moves fast, defying logic and physics. It’s not going with the wind, seeking fuel—it’s hunting us. Deliberately circling around us. As though seeking revenge for the death of a man who repeatedly helped to bring it to life.

It licks up the trees and writhes around us, cutting off every escape route. The temperature is so high that I can feel my hair singeing and my skin blistering from the radiant heat. The air itself seems to be on fire, searing my throat and lungs.

For the first time in my life, I actually start to think that I might die in a fire. Grabbing Phina and Nora, I hold them to me, unable to speak, but praying they know everything I want to say through the way I hold them.

Then, from nowhere, relief.

I blink, lifting my head, wondering if we really diedthatquickly. Then I see the little bubble forming around us, just like the one Phina made at the high school earlier.

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