Page 90 of Alpha Exile

Even now, she's underestimating me. She flicks her wrist out and sends the branch of a tree swinging down towards Bastian, intent on caving his ribs in with her stolen power.

I raise my own hand and tug on my connection to the earth, superseding hers without even trying. The tree stills. Then twists back to its resting place, its heart firmly beating in tune with mine.

Delphine's gaze flicks to my face, and I see fear in her eyes. It's the same emotion I saw when she first spotted Gregor's dagger in my hand.

I wonder how long it's been since she's felt anything like it.

"You won't get me that easy." Snarling, she jerks her limbs away from my mates' jaws with all her strength, and surges to her feet, black magic whipping around her. "You may be able to call to a tree, you impetuous bitch, but that doesn't mean you've won."

"Doesn't it?" I raise a brow at her, facing off against her squarely, and motion my mates to stillness. They wait, Lance looking at me questioningly, no doubt wondering what my plan is.

“Not at all.” Delphine grins, and stalks towards me, taking three large steps. I take one back and to the side, stumbling a little—and her grin only grows. "You know it too, you little weakling. Don't worry—I won't kill youtooquickly. I'd rather have your power than lose it, after all, and it's much easier to take your mates without a fight. You'll get a few more days to—"

Her voice goes silent all at once when I summon the grasses at her feet to rise up and lash around her body. They grow tall enough to wrap around her shoulders, then jerk her down with their strength, stealing the breath from her lungs.

That's not the end of it. I motion towards the trees around us—trees that aremine,and are eager to answer my call. They watched the vampires take me once before, that fateful night, and sense that this black, oozing magic is the source of the rot that's weakened the land their roots have long lived in. Pulling those roots from the earth, they wrap them around her body and trap her in a grip so tight, even the darkest magic can't break through it.

And Delphine's magic isdark. It tastes oily on the air, like the magic I once foolishly tried to use against a rival alpha, when I was desperate and didn't know what else to turn to. I'm glad now that I resisted it at the last second, because I can sense the weakness in that foul, borrowed strength. It runs out quickly, and unlike inner strength, weakens the host.

None is as weak as Delphine.

She falls silent as I stalk towards her, Gregor's blade naked in my hand. Looking down at her pale form, I ask her quietly, "Do you know what your mistake was?"

Glaring up at me hatefully, she bares her teeth. Grass surges into her mouth, choking her voice—not that I think she would've answered my question.

"You took one too many steps into my territory," I tell her. "A territory that, by waking up the ancient magic, you were expanding, by the way—thanks for that. Whatever that pedestal is for, I'm sure it'll come in handy when I use my magic to expand the Glass Pack."

Looking around at my mates, I ask them, "Any last taunts for the grand bitch herself before I dust her?"

One by one, my mates shift to their human forms, stepping up to look down at Delphine's pale and pathetic form. Even the black magic is gone now, sunk beneath her skin as every muscle in her body is trapped and held still.

"I don't really have anything to say to her," Roarke says slowly, his eyes roaming her hate-filled face. "I'm just glad it's all about to be over."

The others nod, and none of them offer any last words. So I step up next to Delphine’s chest, kneel in the grass next to her, and motion for the stalks and roots to part on her chest, just above the right side.

Exposing the place where her blackened heart still beats.

"I'd ask for your final words, but I doubt I want to hear them." Placing the tip of the dagger against her chest, I lean forward, gripping the handle with both hands. "I'm sure they would've been beautiful."

Taking a deep breath, I summon the strength of my wolf, prepared to do what I must.

Just as I'm about to breathe out and press the dagger down in a final blow, a hand snakes out of the grass and fingers dig into my wrist.

Two glowing yellow eyes bore into mine, and I feel myself dragged down into the recesses of someone else's mind.

Thirty-Eight

Delilah

Ishould feel like I'm the one in control, but I'm not.

Instead of journeying through Delphine's mind, the way I journeyed through Bastian's and Roarke's, I find myself tossed around on the currents of her memory.

Somehow I know that I'm experiencing a memory, and yet it feels so real. The wind on my cheeks. Thick wool and cotton skirts around my calves. The scent of coal in the air, and fear in my heart as I back away from hateful eyes and sneering lips.

"How did you know my late father had this hidden beneath his floorboards?" A woman with reddened cheeks and angry eyes is holding up a small wooden box, her fear and anger nearly palpable. "He didn't tell anyone about the hiding place, and I checked—it wasn't written in his journal either."

"It was just a good guess," Delphine says, her voice thin and tremulous. "Please, I didn't mean anything by it."

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