Page 119 of Alpha's Redemption

I sniffle, feeling his dead weight crushing me as his body goes limp, and it takes every ounce of strength I have left to crawl out from under him.

I’m drenched in his blood, and I look at his body, face down on the bed, before my shaky hands tuck the blanket up, as if I can somehow pretend I’m tucking him in instead of being unable to look at what I did. As I do, my legs crumple from under me, and I fall heavily beside the bed.

I killed him.

I killed my mate.

And knowing that only kills me even more.

ChapterFifty-Three

Valen

We’re all the way on the other side of the mountain from where we’re meeting with my father. We’re still about an hour away because the storm is making visibility a real bitch.

Dion and a few other men are traveling in the cars behind us as we try to get to my father. When the mind-link opens up, Marcus comes through. Stupidly, I open it, allowing Tatum in on the link, not expecting the news we get.

‘How far away are you?’Marcus asks.

‘About an hour away still, this storm is fucking terrible,’I tell him. My windscreen wipers are going a hundred miles an hour, and the road is barely visible, even to my enhanced eyesight. We’re going to have a hell of a time finding anything out there if it doesn't blow over soon.

‘Your father and John have headed in,’Marcus tells us.

‘They were supposed to wait for us,’I growl, annoyed they would be so reckless and enter forsaken territory without backup. My father, at least, should know better. I know John isn't in the right headspace at the moment because of Claire, but even he should know better than to be this foolish.

‘Yeah, well, your father found Carter's car and apparently some dried blood not far from it and decided he was sick of waiting,’Marcus says.‘That was the last contact I had with him via the mind-link. I can feel them through the tether, but it's as if they’re both ignoring me now.’

“Pull over,” Tatum snarls. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes, ignoring him.

‘Okay, have they got their phones?’I ask Marcus.

‘Yep, but there’s some sort of interference. After ten minutes, I lost them on the app,’Marcus says.

“Valen, pull over!” Tatum snarls, punching my dash when I continue to ignore him. We’re still an hour away. What use would pulling over be right now?

“Settle down. We’re nearly there,” I tell Tatum, shoving him out of the mind-link, so I can focus on what Marcus is trying to say to me. I know Tatum is scared for Macey, but I would never have expected his next reaction when I don't do as he asks.

“Let me out! It's quicker to go over the damn mountain than around it. PULL THE CAR OVER, VALEN!” Tatum yellS at me.

‘Send–’My words are cut off when Tatum throws his door open beside me, and I jam both feet on the brake. The car locks up, and I grit my teeth, trying to hang onto the steering wheel as he tosses himself out of the car.

Horror washes over me at the speed I was going. I had barely slowed down much before he threw himself out. The screeching of the tires on the wet road is loud as I try not to slide out and into a ditch. My eyes go to the rear vision mirror to see those behind us slamming on their brakes while Tatum's body skids and rolls across the road. One of them has to swerve to miss him, and for a few heartbeats, I think he’s a goner.

My heart races in my chest as the car comes to a stop and I toss my door open. Climbing out, I hear him groan as he gets to his hands and knees.

“Tatum!” I yell, running toward him. All I can smell is burned rubber from my tires.

My warriors pull over when he stands and staggers toward the opposite side of the road. Blood drenches him from where he all but skinned himself alive, as his clothes were torn from his body. He snarls, and my eyes widened in horror when I see he’s about to try to shift.

If he manages it, it will either help him heal or kill him, I’m not sure, but his leg!

“Tatum!” I yell, about to Command him, but I suddenly hear his bones snapping and he screams. Each pop and crunch of bone is loud even over the raging storm, and my men start jumping out of their cars to try to stop him.

His skin is replaced with bloody fur, and his hands turn to claws as he tries to change, only to collapse to his knees. He forced the shift. It won’t work properly.

I feel bile rise in my throat when he roars in furious anger as his body tries to refuse him, his bad leg not cooperating. His claws rake across the wet road as he drops his head and snarls.

His leg is dragging; it’s the oddest, most gruesome thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s going to rip off his own leg if he doesn’t stop! Every part of him shifts slowly, except for his leg.

---