Page 74 of Broken Wolf Heart
Crow’s fist answers that. Then Razor’s.
For the first time since meeting them all, I see an uncanny resemblance between the three of them. It exists mostly in the expressions twisted with rage that each of them wears.
Razor and Crow don’t let up either. They take turns. Fists. Claws. Curses. This isn’t justice. It’s a reckoning.
They make him feel it. Every bruise. Every betrayal. Every scream Crow’s mother ever swallowed while Alvaro signed the forms that put her in a cage.
I don’t flinch. Maybe I’m past that now. Numb to the shock of the code these wolves live by. A code that’s mine now. A code I command. Although, this particular moment is Grey’s to command. It’s his orders that allowed it, and as much as I might hate the sight of so much bloodshed, I won’t intervene. Not when they’re all unleashing a lifetime of trauma that I wasn’t present to witness.
Grey stands behind me, silent. Despite his eyes locked on the scene, there’s a disconnect in the bond, like he’s drifted somewhere far away. I want to reach for him, but I don’t.
Not yet.
Footsteps sound in the hall.
A second later, Mia rounds the corner into the room. She stops at the sight of Alvaro being beaten to a pulp. Her eyes widen, and she looks from him to Grey and then to me.
When she takes in my bruises and swollen face, her gaze softens, and she slips into the room wordlessly to stand on my other side. Her hand slides into mine, and she squeezes.
It’s touching, her reassurance.
After a few more blows, Mia says, “That’s enough.”
Her words are loud and sharp enough that Razor stepsback, breathing hard. Crow drops his arms, blood dripping from his fists.
“You want to go soft on him?” Razor asks her.
“Absolutely fucking not,” she says. “I want to let him recover before you go again. If that’s what you need to put this asshole out of your head for good. He doesn’t deserve your energy—not even your hate. Not after this.”
“Mia’s right,” Dutch chimes in. “Besides, he has other uses…” Dutch’s eyes gleam. I wonder if he’s thinking of using our hostage to draw Vincenzo out. We talked about it back at the house, and while it’s probably the smartest play, Grey already gave Crow and Razor lead on this. They get to call the shots on whether Alvaro lives long enough to act as bait.
Besides, dropping a dead general on Vincenzo’s doorstep is almost just as good as dropping a live one.
“Whatever,” Razor mutters. He looks at Crow. “I’m done. He’s all yours.”
Crow nods and steps in front of his father. The words—and Crow’s stance—have a finality that Alvaro clearly misses.
“You think this makes you strong?” Alvaro spits blood onto the floor then glares up at his second son. “You think she’d be proud of you for this?”
Crow stares at him. And then he says, “No. But she’d understand.”
His hands shift just enough that his fingernails lengthen into wolf claws. He reaches out and slits Alvaro’s throat.
The general’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s just happened. Blood pours from his open flesh. Life drains from him quickly.
And that’s when Grey moves.
It happens too fast to stop.
One second, he’s standing behind me. The next, he’s across the room, slamming into Alvaro so hard the chair topples.They crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs, and Grey’son him—teeth bared, claws out, growling like something unholy.
The sound he makes is like nothing I’ve ever heard from him—beast or man. Darkness pours into the bond, so thick that I can’t sense anything beyond it.
I can’t sensehim.
“Grey!” I scream, but he doesn’t hear me. Or he doesn’t care.
Some creature between human and wolf, he tears into Alvaro’s throat like a beast. There’s a gurgle, a gasp, and then nothing from the general.
