Asher
"No! I didn't. She—she wouldn't let get near her. I swear it, High Alpha."
Fenris growls low in my head, but Wolf-Eye's hand grasps my shoulder, squeezing hard. "Asher," he says. Just my na, but his tone is full of warning.
I killed the last Alpha. Killing his successor is going to bring more trouble and headache. These are all facts I understand, but my brain is screaming, howling for a blood paynt to ease my rage.
"That girl is mine," I whisper, forcing my clenched fingers to relax. The mont tension is released, his face slams to the ground again, still victim to my dominance.
Kill him, Fenris says, as if he wasn't the one to force a promise of pacifism out of earlier.
I shake my head, fighting to clear the red haze of bloodlust clouding my vision. The struggle is visceral—a war between my baser instincts and whatever shred of civility I've managed to maintain since ascending the Lycan's throne.
It hasn't been this hard since… A long ti ago, in mories I refuse to recall.
My foot cos down on Alexander's outstretched hand. Not an accident. Not a mistake. A deliberate, calculated expression of my fury.
Tiny bones crunch beneath my heel, bringing a sliver of satisfaction, though my face remains blank.
Alexander grunts, jaw clenched tight, fighting to maintain dignity through the pain.
I'm not satisfied with this small display. Digging my heel in deeper, I grind against already fractured bones. Sothing inside —sothing darker than even my normal temperant—wants to hear him break completely.
When Alexander finally releases a high, shrill scream, I feel the barest hint of satisfaction.
"Who does Violet Sinclair belong to?" My voice drops low, barely above a whisper. The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with threat.
"You," he groans. "She's yours, High Alpha!"
The fury inside ebbs slightly at his admission. The submission in his voice calms the savage beast clawing at my chest, at least enough to lift my foot from his hand.
My gaze sweeps across the clearing, taking in the mass of prostrated wolves. So have their faces pressed so hard against the dirt I wonder if they're still breathing. Others tremble visibly. Terror and fury mix in a bitter, pungent odor, overpowering even the sll of burning corpses brought in by the breeze.
"Keep your filthy hands off the girl. All of you."
The crowd is frozen, without so much as a twitch in response.
Sothing nags at the edge of my consciousness. A detail I've missed. I scan the gathering again, more carefully this ti, cataloguing the faces, the scents, the postures.
That's when it hits . Alexander never appointed a beta tonight. It's a glaring oversight for a succession ceremony. While it isn't required, it is certainly unusual for a beta-less pack to leave the position empty.
There's always the possibility his first choice of beta died, but it's a potential sign of trouble, leaving uneasy. Especially when I also realize the scent from the girl's room, the strange wolf who'd challenged Fenris in the forest, is missing.
Fenris.
My wolf responds instantly to my silent call, the tattoos on my skin burning as he materializes beside , saturating the imdiate vicinity with a faint haze of blue light.
"Check on the girl," I order him, keeping my eyes on Alexander.
Fenris doesn't hesitate, bolting toward the main building with supernatural speed. The sight of him—manifested separately from —sends another wave of fear through the crowd.
I kneel in front of Alexander, grabbing his hair to once again bring his face level with mine. His eyes are glazed with pain, his breathing shallow.
"Who else visited Violet tonight?" My voice is calm now, almost conversational. The contrast to my earlier rage probably makes it all the more unsettling.
"Asher," Wolf-Eye says again, with a sigh.
I can feel my subordinates standing with him, but they remain silent, probably disapproving. I'm bringing more trouble and work onto my shoulders, but it's impossible to hold back the rage in my head, the whispers of vengeance driving my every action.
Alexander's eyes slide off, and I shake his head until his gaze ets mine again. "Who is it, Alpha Alexander? Which of your people went to her room tonight?"
"No one," he says, his voice hoarse.
Lie, lie, LIE.
"Lying again?" I grab his jaw, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "After what just happened to your hand, you're still lying to , you little shit?"
A tremble runs through his body. It's hard for any alpha wolf to submit, even a young one, but hardest for those who rule over a pack. Still, he should know better than to keep foolishly resisting.
"Evan," he finally whispers.
Evan. The na ans nothing to , but I'll find him soon enough. "And why would this Evan visit her?"
Alexander swallows hard. "He was checking on her well-being."
Half-truth. The scent of deception is weaker, but still present. My eyes narrow, fingers digging into his cheeks. All I want is to rip this pup apart, to raze this pack to the ground, but I hold myself back. I have to.
If I kill everyone, she'll always be afraid of , won't she?
"Checking on her for what purpose?"
Sweat drips down Alexander's temple as he struggles to speak through my grip. "Just to make sure she was okay."
Lie.
"Last chance." I tighten my grasp on his jaw until he winces. "What was Evan doing in her room?"
Sothing in Alexander breaks. Perhaps it's the pain, or maybe the realization that I won't stop until I have the truth. "We were going to move her," he gasps out. "Tomorrow morning. To Forest Springs."
Forest Springs is a neighboring pack. The Alpha's daughter is now Alexander's Luna, who hurt the girl only this morning. "Do you know the price of stealing from the Lycan King, Alexander?"
Asher, Fenris says, growling. Fury burns through our bond, leaving my wolf incoherent with rage as he howls. Words are unnecessary; I already understand.
Violet is gone.
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