Page 54 of Wicked Dove
RION
Anger rages through me from head to toe as I descend the stairs two at a time. The double doors ricochet as I storm through them, exiting Institute Thirteen and beelining for the path that leads to The Vale. My pulse rings in my ears, my heart ready to leap from my chest when I hear my name.
“Rion!” It’s repeated when I don’t glance back the first time.
Frustrated, I peer over my shoulder without slowing my pace to see Kael standing at the entrance to the Institute with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face.
I don’t have time for him right now. There’s enough to deal with.
Shaking my head, I redirect my attention toward The Vale, fighting with my wolf every step of the way. I would get there much faster if I shifted, but leaving him in charge won’t end well. I can already feel it, the damp feel of blood on my claws and the taste of vengeance on my tongue.
I’m torn over what I just saw, but my wolf? There’s no deliberation with him, only brutality. Seeing her like that, scarred and marked at the hands of someone who was supposed to care for her, makes my chest tighten unbearably. I know what it’s like to feel pain at the hands of those with whom you shareblood, but my scars aren’t visible for all to see. Elodie’s were right there, etched into her skin, all mottled and heartbreaking. I could almost feel the pain myself.
More than that, I almost fucking kissed her. Me. I have to shake it off. I have to shakeheroff, but it’s proving harder than I expected.
I try to ease the tension in my arms as I sway them at my sides, but it’s impossible. Even as I try to blink through the memories threatening to flood my mind, focusing as hard as I can on the edge of The Vale as it comes into view, I find myself losing with every step.
My sight blurs at the edges as my thoughts drift. The air grows still and icy, leaving goosebumps to dance along my forearms. The sticky feeling of dread clogs my throat as my father’s raging stare meets mine in my mind. I could always tell when he was mad. His deep brown eyes would burn bright, morphing into a fiery amber as he set his sights on me.
I never knew the rules beforehand; I only ever knew when I’d done something to piss him off, and I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t mad at me. The place where it all began, where it grew worse, is what always plays on repeat in my mind, and just like now, with my anger spiked and my defenses raised, it swarms me.
The land is dark, only the moon offering light over the plains as the pack gathers. The murmurs tell me my father is in a bad mood, and I consider running for the treeline off in the distance. The idea of hiding until he calms down burns strongly in my thoughts, but it’s as if they’re a beacon to him as the crowd parts and his deathly stare lands on me.
“Come.”
It feels like the ground vibrates at his command. I gulp back my fear as I shuffle toward him, aware of the pitying glances from the rest of the pack.
The moment I’m within arm’s length, he strikes me with the back of his hand and I crumple to the ground. Rattled, I gulp back a few deep breaths as I curl my fists into the blades of grass beneath me, but there’s no savior here.
“Stand, Runt.”
Choking back the tears that threaten to flood my vision, I do as he orders, hating his nickname for me as I come to stand toe to toe with him.
“Alpha,” I rasp, the tremble to my shoulders drawing his attention from my face for a split second before he sneers at me.
“It’s time for your wolf to make an appearance.”
I blink at him. We all know it’s not as simple as that. You can activate your wolf in one of two ways: at the age of thirteen, or by triggering it in response to killing someone. I’m barely twelve, so it won’t be the former, which only leaves the latter.
“But—”
He strikes again and I sway on my thin legs, my knees crashing together as I hit the dirt once again.
“Stand,” he snarls, grabbing the collar of my t-shirt and launching me to my feet. His face is in mine as he drags me upright with such force that my feet leave the ground for a brief moment. “It’s time to prove to the pack that you are worthy of your place here.”
I tremble, understanding washing over me and terror leaving me breathless as a loud thud radiates from the left. My father looks first, and I dare to follow his line of sight, regretting it instantly.
A woman sobs, curled up in the fetal position on the ground, and my heart aches. Instinctively, I want to drop to my knees and check on her, but I know that will only anger my father, so I remain in his grasp without a fight.
“Show our people you are worthy of the Strachan Pack name,” he sneers, tossing me toward the woman.
Somehow, I manage to stay on my feet, but I sway with the rapid beating of my heart. Clutching my hand to my chest, I stare at the pack around me. Some wear wicked grins that match my father’s level of insanity, while others see the issue here, yet they say nothing. No one wishes for my father’s wrath.
“I-I c-c-can’t d-do this,” I splutter, my teeth clattering with fear.
I’m so rattled that I don’t anticipate the disapproval the words will rip from my father until his blow hits the back of my head, sending me careening to my knees.
“Kill her or we leave you here for dead.”
