Page 71 of Broken Wolf Heart
“Looks like,” I growl, stepping up beside her. My hand finds hers, and she laces her fingers through mine without looking away from him.
I watch as my father’s gaze flicks between us.
He sees it now.
What we are.
What we’ve become.
Those cold, hollow eyes gleam with something dangerous, but he says nothing more. He turns, climbs into his car with his generals, and peels away in a spray of gravel and smoke. Along the tree line, his wolves fade slowly back into the forest and disappear.
The moment they’re all gone, Lexi’s knees buckle. I catch her before she can hit the ground.
“Lex,” I whisper, sinking down with her, cupping her face.
“I’m okay,” she breathes, but her voice trembles. “I just… I couldn’t let myself lose control to her. I know it sounds crazy, but…I don’t know if she’d give it back.”
“I know,” I whisper, brushing hair from her face. “I know, baby.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt.
Everyone else stays back, silent and still.
We sit there in the center of the driveway—Alpha and High Alpha, bloodied and breathless—and I feel the weight of everything that’s coming settle on our shoulders.
War with my father and his pack is no longer a possibility.
It’s a guarantee.
I look over at Crow, whose frame still trembles from the rage he’s trying to hold back. “Okay,” I rasp. “No more waiting.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asks warily.
Rocco and Dutch take a step forward. Dutch looks hungry; Razor looks hopeful, which probably means they’ve filled him in on what we found out at the lab. Then again, Razor always wants a fight, so maybe not.
“Go get your answers,” I tell him. And with a glance at Razor, I add, “Together as brothers. Tell me when it’s done.”
“What are you…?” Mia looks back and forth between us. She might not have been there for our conversation earlier, but she knows what I mean. They all do. They’ve been waiting for me to give the order all along.
“There’s no coming back from this,” she warns, but it’s not a reproach, only a reminder. “If you do what I think you’re going to do?—”
“There was never any going back,” I say, and then I pull Lexi into my arms and carry her inside.
15
LEXI
Breathing hurts.
Every inhale is a reminder of the marble column Vincenzo threw me against like I weighed nothing. I’m bruised, battered, probably cracked somewhere inside—and I haven’t slept. Not really.
Not since I looked Vincenzo Diavolo in the eye and declared war.
The morning after the attack, I lean against the kitchen island, munching on toast. A security guard passes through on his rounds, and I can feel her eyes on me. It’s not unfriendly, but the sorrow in her gaze guts me. We lost seven guards yesterday, thanks to Rocco and Alvaro.
Seven Giovanni pack members who did nothing except try to protect me.
I owe them everything. A debt I can’t possibly repay.
