Page 85 of Wolf's Providence

Mystrength.

He shifted his weight, visibly unsettled but still playing at bravado. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered as if to save face to his minions, who were now roughly circling the clearing. I could hear the edge of fear in his voice, and I was sure they could too.

“See about it as you get the fuck off my mountain. This land is Shadowridge Peak packlands. You take one more step towards me,anyof you”—I directed my glare to the shifter who’d stepped forward to my right—“you’re not going back the way you came.”

“Meaning?” one of the others spoke up.

I kept my gaze on the scarred spokesperson. “Meaning you’re going to die tonight.”

I saw him hesitate, I saw him look around at his minions, and saw his face fill with fury as he took in the sight of some of them who were willing to retreat.

“There’s only one of you,” he sneered.

“One is all that it will take,” I replied with a dark smirk. Taking them all in, I met the eyes of each shifter I would kill tonight to protect Willow and my territory. “This is my final warning.” I saw one of the younger shifters flick an uncertain look at the scarred guy. “Go,” I urged him. “I’ve killed more shifters on this peak than you ever will. A few more won’t make me lose any sleep.”

I wasn’t sure that was true, but I was sick of the killing. If he ran, then he would keep running, I was sure.

The young shifter looked back at me and dipped his head. “Alpha,” he murmured, and then he turned, shifted, and ran.

Turning back to the scarred shifter, I raised an eyebrow. “Your move.”

The scarred man stepped forward, four others close behind. One of them—a wiry figure from Willow’s vision, the one with her underwear pressed to his nose—locked eyes with me. He wouldn’t make it down this mountain alive. I measured each ofthem, calculating their intent, feeling my wolf ripple beneath the surface, ready.

“Tonight, you all die,” I told them, my voice rough, lethal. I pointed to the fucker from her house, the one who’d touched her underwear. “You will die slowly.”

“You don’t scare me.” His sneer cut through the air. “You’re nothing,Alpha.”

The first shifter spoke. “We challenge you for Shadowridge Pack.”

My mouth twisted in a sneer. They thought to make it formal, knowing I would obey the rules of the challenge. No use of my Will. Just brute strength.

I didn’t need my Will to defeat these rogues.

The heavyset shifter lunged forward, and I met his attack, his fist driving into my side. I twisted, barely dodging the force of his blow, when another attacker swung a knife toward my back. I whirled around, blocking his blade with my forearm and grabbing his wrist, twisting sharply until he dropped the weapon with a pained shout. In a flash, I slammed my elbow into his face, sending him sprawling backwards into the snow.

The third attacker moved, striking low at my ribs. Pain flared, but I held ground, keeping my wolf in check.

Keeping the beast of darkness at bay.

As they circled, I squared off against the closest shifter, whose footing slipped in the snow just enough for me to catch his arm and yank him forward. He hit the ground with a stunned gasp, scrambling to rise as I drove a brutal knee to his chest.

I steadied myself, boots crunching over the snow. The wind picked up, whipping around me, stinging my face as I squared off against my attackers closing in, their breaths visible in the cold air.

Another figure leapt at me from behind, and I twisted just in time, planting my feet firmly in the snow for leverage. I flungthe assailant off, sending him sprawling back with a thud, snow scattering around him. I could feel the biting chill even as my body pulsed with adrenaline, each breath clouding in front of me. My attackers had taken a step back but were still circling me, the snow coating their boots. The more they circled me, they didn’t realize they were trampling down the snow, compacting it, making it easier to fight them. It still slowed them just enough for me to take two down, one after another, until only three remained, watching me with newfound wariness as their friends lay dead at my feet.

These three coordinated their assault.

One slammed his fist into my side, knocking me back a step, while the other struck with a sharp knee to my ribs. The pain flared, but I forced myself to turn the momentum into a savage counterattack. I rammed my shoulder into the scarred shifter’s gut, knocking him backward, and then landed a swift, solid punch to his jaw, dropping him.

Breathing heavily, I spun just as the third attacker, the largest of the group, tackled me. We crashed to the ground, his weight nearly forcing the air from my lungs. I drove my elbow into his neck, pushing him off with sheer force, until he staggered back, clutching his throat. Blood smeared my hands, and my vision blurred with fury as I watched the three regroup, my eyes widening in realization.

I knew why they didn’t shift, and it was the same reason I didn’t. They were rogue, and control was almost lost for them. If they shifted, their wolves would take over, and I knew mine would too.

The longer we could hold on to human form, the longer we had control.

But then, a scent caught my attention—a familiar scent that made my heart lurch with fear.

Willow.

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