Page 17 of Destined Mate

What he saw halted him in his tracks. The living room was a scene of chaos: furniture overturned, pictures knocked off walls, shards of glass scattered across the floor.

His two enforcers, Poppy and Damar, lay motionless on the ground at the feet of the largest werewolf Jerome had ever seen. His fur was dark as obsidian and his eyes glowed with malice.

Flanking him were two betas equally menacing in appearance, but slightly smaller in stature. They snarled at Jerome’s sudden appearance. Taking advantage of the confusion, Jensen rushed past Jerome in his wolf form and tackled one beta to the ground.

Bay arrived and attacked the other beta, shifting midair. It was a blur of claws and fangs between the four wolves. Henry burstthrough the door, joining the fray without hesitation, shifting quickly too as he attacked.

The room turned into a battlefield—fur intermixed with flashes of human clothing ripping apart because of hasty transformations. Snarls filled every corner as allies tried desperately to overpower their enemies without harming one another in close quarters combat. A wolf cried out in pain.

Jensen’s fierce determination and guerrilla tactics momentarily disoriented the beta he wrestled with, giving him the opening to land a decisive blow. The beta under Jensen yelped in agony, a sound quickly muffled by the chaos surrounding them. But Jensen didn’t see the rogue alpha advance on him.

Despite the alpha’s massive size, his movements were eerily silent, almost ghostly as he closed the distance between himself and Jensen. The alpha’s muscles rippled beneath his dark fur, each step calculated and precise. His eyes never left Jensen.

Henry tried to intercept, but Bay’s lifeless body collided with Henry, knocking him to the floor. Henry struggled to get out from under Bay’s dead weight.

The alpha reached Jensen, and with an earth-shattering roar, pounced. Jensen barely raised his arms in defense before the rogue leader struck him down with a powerful swipe of his paw.

Claws raked across Jensen’s torso, tearing through flesh and bone with chilling ease. Jensen let out a strangled cry as he fell back against the upturned couch, blood spilling onto the already stained carpet.

With a guttural snarl that shook the very foundation of the room, the alpha lunged again, this time clamping his massive jaws around Jensen’s neck. A sickening crunch echoed through the chaos as vertebrae yielded under immense pressure.

“No!” Jerome screamed.

The grim reality set in—he’d lost four pack members in just a few minutes. Despite being outnumbered, the rogues fought ferociously.

Plus, enforcers had no hope against an alpha, which was why alphas never fought them, but this one didn’t care about what was right and what was wrong. And if Jerome didn’t stop this, he’d lose the betas he had left, Henry included.

“We surrender! Stop!Please!” Jerome yelled, tears mingled with sweat on his face.

The rogue alpha howled, and his betas stood down.

Henry’s wolf planted himself in front of Jerome, but Jerome refused to hide behind him or anyone else. He shook off Henry’s attempt to shield him and stood resolute, refusing to cower before that alpha.

The room fell into a lethal silence, broken only by the heavy breathing of the wounded and fighters alike. The air was thick with tension, mingling with the metallic scent of sweat and blood.

And death.

The rogue alpha, still in his imposing wolf form, turned to Jerome. His fur bristled before he transformed back into his human shape. Muscles rippled and bones shifted beneath his skin until he finally stood as a man.

His features were sharp and cold, like chiseled marble, and his eyes held a merciless, icy gleam. The two rogue betas also shifted.

“Who are you to command your betas to surrender?”

“I am the alpha mate.” Jerome swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “This bloodshed serves no purpose. You have proven your strength. Cross Creek recognizes it. What do you want?”

The silence stretched on as the rogue alpha appeared to consider Jerome’s plea. His deep, feral breathing filled the room, mixing with the fear that permeated the air.

“A new territory for me and mine. I chose yours. You have no alpha.”

“You picked wrong,” Jerome growled from beside Henry, unable to keep the fury contained. “The Council of Wolves has sent a Luna’s Summons out. We will have an alpha by the end of the week.”

“You have a new alpha now,” he said as he motioned to himself.

“You cannot just—”

“But I can. Toss those bodies out of my new pack house,” the rogue said.

“What? No!” Jerome gasped.

---