Page 63 of Destined Mate

“Outrageous,” Elder Rodgers snapped, shaking his head. “You’re accusingmeof intentionally harming a pack member?”

Jerome’s eyes narrowed as anger and determination swept through him. “Not only of harming a pack member, but I’m also accusing you of being an unfit elder.”

“You’re nothing but a power-hungry liar,” Elder Rodgers snarled.

Jerome laughed. “That’s you, actually. And you’re nothing but a bitter old wolf full of greed and jealousy.”

Wesley leaned forward, holding Elder Rodgers’ gaze steadily. “You have exactly two choices. Leave this pack peacefully or leave it bloody.”

An odd surge of giddiness shot through Jerome as he watched Rodgers’ face twist and contort with fury. The elder’s eyes bulged dramatically, veins pulsing visibly beneath his reddening skin.

Jerome wondered if the man might actually explode from the sheer intensity of his anger or lose control of his wolf.

“Leave? You think I’ll bow to your threats just because you barged in here and took over? You’re no better than Elmer.”

“I am no rogue. My challenge was honorable. Elmer betrayed the rules of the challenge, not me. And I also didn’t auction Jerome off to the highest bidder, either.”

“You flaunt your mating to that omega like it’s something to be proud of.” Rodgers spat out the words as if they were something foul.

“Because I am proud to be his mate. You know what? Perhaps you’d rather I kill you instead?” Wesley asked calmly. “Because that option is looking better and better.”

Elder Rodgers’ mouth curled into an ugly sneer. His anger was so obvious it almost had a tangible presence. It reminded Jerome of the time when he was seven or eight human years in age and found an angry rattlesnake underneath the porch of his family’s cabin.

“You would not dare.”

“No? Test that assumption. Please.”

Jerome heard Elder Rodgers gasp and glanced at Wesley. His eyes were the golden color of his wolf.

“If Alpha Wesley kills you, not one pack member outside of your son and mate will care,” Henry said from behind Wesley.

“He’s right,” Elder Moore said. “No one here likes you, Rodgers. Outside of your sidekick, of course.”

“Sidekick?” Elder Horner snarled.

“And he should go with you when you leave,” Elder Moore added.

Elder Dillard leaned back with arms crossed and an amused tilt to his mouth. “It’d be a damn celebration, actually.”

Elder Horner blinked in surprise.

Elder Rodgers shot to his feet as if propelled by an invisible spring. “Mark my words.” He pointed at Jerome with a shaking hand before swinging it toward Wesley. “You’ll regret this.”

Jerome felt the vision coming. A brightness enveloped him like the glow of a lantern, pulling him into a space only he could see. He was vaguely conscious of Wesley and the bickering elders.

But that awareness slipped away as the vision blossomed, immensely vivid, in front of his eyes. He saw Elder Rodgers. Not as he was now—furious and defiant—but beaten down, a man who had lost everything he valued.

It played out rapidly, like a movie on fast forward. The old wolf, face lined with anger and age and something even deeper, ached with bitterness, even more than now.

Jerome watched silently as the elder tried to find those in their pack who’d help overthrow their new alpha. But they refused to help the elder. Threatened to tell on him even.

Jerome was glad to see their pack had bonded that strongly already with Wesley.

Then the vision shifted sharply. He saw Rodgers and his family leaving the pack’s territory. He could almost feel the isolation and despair radiating from the elder.

And hatred.

The wolf who fancied himself a master manipulator found himself stripped of power. Even worse, he found himself powerless. Jerome watched as the group quickly grew smaller in the distance, their figures dimming until the darkness swallowed them.

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