Page 60 of The Alpha's Sin
The pounding on the front door makes me jump. My heart leaps into my throat.
Logan stiffens, straightens. His body goes rigid as a bowstring.
Another round of pounding shakes the door. A voice shouts,
“Open up in the name of the Iron Fang Pack!”
Fear prickles down my spine.
“What’s going on? What do they want?”
“I don’t know.” His pale eyes flash. “But I’ll find out. Don’t worry, kitten—I’ll get rid of them.”
He strides to the door and yanks it open.
Three massive Alphas stand there, their breath steaming in the frigid air. The biggest one, a beefy man in a plaid jacket, steps forward.
“Logan Hayes,” he growls, “you’re under arrest.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Logan snaps. “I’m a Lone Wolf—you have no say over me!”
“Oh yes, we do.” The Alpha’s eyes are hard. “Lone wolf or not, when you break one of the Unbreakable Laws, the local Packmaster has to deal with you.”
He jerks his chin at the two behind him.
“Cuff him—use the silver cuffs.”
“No!” I cry, rushing forward, but it’s too late. Before I can do anything, the other two Alphas seize Logan’s arms. The glint of silver flashes in the firelight.
And in a heartbeat, they’re hustling him out the door.
48
LOGAN
The silver burns.
It bites into my wrists, sapping my strength, making my muscles ache like fire under my skin. I pull anyway—try to break free, to throw these bastards off me—but the cuffs hold fast.
I snarl low in my throat. Who the fuck told them? How did the Pack even know? I’ve kept to myself. Stayed out of their business. I’m a Lone Wolf—always have been. The only way they could know about Poppy and me is if someone talked.
I don’t have to think hard to know what probably happened. Kyle and Leroy. Those rotten fucks must have run straight to the Packmaster.
The thought makes my blood boil hotter than the silver ever could.
But what twists the knife in my gut isn’t the pain—it’s imagining what Poppy must be going through right now. My sweet little kitten, standing in the doorway, watching them drag me away. Her big eyes gone wide with fear. She’s probably shaking. Crying. And I can’t even hold her. Can’t tell her it’s going to be all right.
Goddammit.
I grit my teeth as one of them shoves me forward. I stumble, but I don’t fall. I won’t give them that satisfaction. They can cuff me, burn me, weaken me with their fucking silver, but they’ll never see me break.
Still, inside, I’m raging. My Wolf is howling, throwing himself at the invisible walls the silver cuffs press around us. He wants out—wants to rip their throats out, to end every last one of them for daring to touch us!
I want that too.
But I can’t—not like this. Not now.
I’m going to have to get through this somehow. Protect Poppy. Protect our pups. That’s all that matters.
