If I get him to put on the charm, to make herlikehim more… My nostrils flare as I think about her laughing with him when she won’t even look at me. Talking to him when she won’t even tell me hello. The fucking little shit. I’m going to kill him.
The ward bites into my skin – a dozen bolts of electricity arcing through my body, forcing my legs to lock, my body to freeze as it captures me. My muscles tense as the pain intensifies until I can’t breathe, my lungs twisting inside my chest, spasming so godsdamn tight not even air can get through them.
And then I’m released, the ward deciding that I am, in fact, enough of a witch for it to allow me through.
I stagger forward, my hands on my knees, sweat beading across my face and neck as I swallow in great big gulps of air. Motherfuckerthat hurt. I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment, using the pain to finish my thoughts.
I need to get Maddox to charm her, to make her want to stay for him rather than for me. I need to get my other brothers to do the same. She didn’t have a great family life growing up, and I know she secretly craves one. And then I need to figure out a fucking way not to kill them all in my jealousy when they have her full attention and I’m still begging for crumbs.
“Fuck!”
Lunging to my right, I slam my fist into a tree. The wood groans and creaks as the branches sway. The burst of energy explodes up my arm as my knuckles protest my idiocy of trying to take on a fucking hundred-plus-year-old elm. And yet, I try again, swinging my other fist into it, bruising the knuckles in that hand too. Making them swollen. Bruised and scraped. Perhaps even broken. But I relish the pain; it’s so much nicer than the shit in my chest.
Collapsing to my knees, I breathe out heavily and close my eyes again. My teeth clench, my jaw locked so tight that pain radiates down my neck.
Fucking hel. I’ve fucked up.
But I’m going to fix this.
I’m going to make her love my brothers too much not to hurt them. And as a trump card, I’m also going to bring her best friend into this Family. If Dayne’s a part of it, there’s no way she’d turn against it. And I’ll make her see that I’m the best one to lead – that Leno is too fucking soft, that Khalid does not want the position, that Enoch and Ezriel aren’t smart enough to play the game, that Maddox is too feared by our allies, and that Rudy is too sweet. She might still want to kill me after all is said and done, but she won’t if she knows that will most likely mean everyone else she loves will die too.
She also has a sister she loves, my brain points out.
Then I’ll bring her into the Family as well. She’s sixteen, too young to get married for my tastes despite it being legal in many states, but she can get engaged to Maddox. Stefaan might wish to save her to sell to another Family, to build ties outside of just ours, but everyone has a price, and I will pay whatever it takes to have her and Dayne.
With a plan forming, my panic-fueled rage calms enough for me to stand. My hands ache, but I wiggle my fingers, and none of them seem to be broken. Turning on the spot, I head back through the ward, clenching my teeth when it zaps me, though not as strongly as before, and then make my way towards the house so I can grab my phone.
Thirty-Two
HIM
As I reach the drive, I catch the hum of an engine. I turn my head to see Maddox coming up behind me. He parks by the house and steps out as I wait for him.
“You look like shit,” he says with a grin. “I take it Micha didn’t just accept you back like a good little breedmare?”
I take a step towards him, my eyes narrowing, and he backpedals around to the trunk of the car, still grinning like a fool. Grabbing the latch, he says, “Maybe this will cheer you up,” then pops it open before I can get to him.
I stop at the smell of a werewolf.
My eyes drop to see Zita hogtied in the trunk of the car. Her violet eyes are full of pain, the silver chains around her seeping poison into her veins. They’re not made out of the silver from Earth – a soft material that does nothing. The chain, just like my silver knives, is from Blo´dyrio´, the world werewolves and vampires originally come from – used to bind wolves on the night of the full moon and the nights on
either side of them.
The Hunt there is wild and dangerous. The call of the moon can’t be denied like it can be here on Earth, and it makes them crazy, feral, not of any mind other than a need to kill. Artemis, the Grecian Goddess of the Moon and Hunt, is even known to visit during the night of blood moons. Dressed in red garb, she’s given rise to the tales of Red Riding Hood.
It is not a time for most beings to be out, let alone pups who have just hit their ascension and have shifted for the first time. So a material was made, crafted out of Artemis’ moonlight itself. A wolf is bound in silver chain, their arms and legs wrapped, as is their chest. And when they’re strong enough to break free, then they are strong enough to join the Hunt.
Although Zita is well past her ascension, she is young and has never been to Blo´dyrio´, hasn’t built up any sort of tolerance to its silver. Her body’s spasming uncontrollably as sweat beads down her face and back. She looks pale, a touch away from death, but there is still defiance in her eyes. Still a desire to stab us both.
“I bet she knows a lot about what Antonio’s been doing,” Maddox says with pride.
She laughs, a broken chuckle that’s twisted in agony. I glance down at her, and she holds my gaze with foggy eyes. “You idiot,” she rasps. “I’m the damn…omega.” The most hated wolf in the pack. The one whose entire purpose is to be a stress-relief punching bag, and because of that, they are killed all too often. “They don’t tell me...”
I reach forward and grab the trunk of the car, then slam it shut.
“She can’t be the omega,” Maddox sputters, but I don’t give a shit. “She’s too pretty to be the omega.”
“You were supposed to be hunting,” I snap. “You said you didn’t have enough bodies –”