Page 315 of Claimed By the Rival Alpha
Panic flooded through my veins. Some part of my brain was firing nothing but negativity—I was dying, my baby and I wouldn’t live past an hour—but that fear felt somehow separate from the rest of me. Numbness—from shock? From blood loss?—kept me detached from the pain and the worst of the thoughts, but pain would have been better than the floaty sensation taking hold of my body.
“Bryn!”
I recognized that voice. I gave a weak moan in response, but I doubted whoever was calling to me could hear it. I tried to look for the speaker, and soon, a familiar large form headed my way.Night…?Through my blurry gaze, I thought for sure it was my mate, but as it drew closer, I realized it was, in fact, Lance.
Confusion and some measure of disappointment began to fill my weakening body as he crouched beside me, but I didn’t have time to analyze it.
“Bryn, hold on! I’ll save you…!”
His voice sounded like it was coming from a ways away, not right next to me. I let out a quiet breath, and my eyes slipped closed. Soon, he and the forest and the confusion vanished.
114
NIGHT
Iwatched Bryn, Tavi, Lance, and most of the women walk away to speak to the injured. It was a struggle to hide my annoyance, but I should have expected it to be this way—the Camas Pack had always been more conservative than us Wargs. The farther they got from us, the more Oakley and Birchen started to relax.
“Oakley,” I said, pulling his attention from the women. “Why don’t you take me through what happened?”
He nodded. “Right. At three in the morning, when most of us were sleeping in our homes, the attack started at the borders of our territory. We didn’t know anything was wrong until the ferals forced their way past my men and onto our lands. Someone sounded the alarm to wake us, but by then, plenty of damage had been done.”
“Where is that alarm?”
He led us farther onto their land, toward the center of their territory. Oakley gestured to a siren pole that was about three stories tall. It was hard to tell its original color because of thesplotches of brown rust and patches of exposed steel. The siren was also coated in rust, its cylinder chipped.
Dom went to the crank that made the siren sound. When he touched it, it squeaked as it see-sawed back and forth from an old screw. It would take forever to get the thing to make any sort of noise. He and I shared a brief look.
“Is there an alarm system near where your men patrol?” Dom asked. “One they would have easier access to?”
Oakley sighed. “This is the only one.”
“I see.” Dom sent me another look, this one more worried than the other. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he spoke through our bond. “No wonder they were taken over so easily.”
No kidding. I didn’t blame them for the attack itself, but it was hard not to get even more frustrated at this overly traditional pack. They had fighters and hunters, but because they hadn’t had to defend their borders in fifty years, they’d grown soft. That was evident from how unprepared they were for an attack.
“The ferals also attacked our nursery,” Birchen said.
My head whipped toward him. “Was anyone killed?”
“Unfortunately, yes, a few of the women who defended the building. Thankfully, no pups were injured.”
I clenched my hands into fists. Only Troy would be that heinous. “Take us there.”
We left the siren pole behind, and Birchen led us to the nursery. The single-story cabin’s windows were all shattered, and the front door had been ripped from its hinges. Inside the nurserywas the stench of blood, fear…and something else. Something that chilled me to my bones.
“You catch a whiff of that, Night?” Dom asked.
“Of course I do.” My response was little more than a growl. If there had been any doubt in my mind that this was Troy’s doing, his scent all over this nursery banished it.
I stepped inside the nursery and tried to find the source. Blood covered the walls and floor. Bits of fur and hair, claw marks, ripped drawings and homework, demolished furniture…it was clear there had been a huge struggle.
“Either the son of a bitch came to do this himself,” I said, “or he had his army leave his fur here.”
“Either way, he wanted us to know he was behind this. Sick fuck,” Dom said.
We walked through the nursery and out the back exit. Bodies covered in white sheets lay on the ground. Undoubtedly, these were the women who had defended the nursery. It was a miracle no pups had died or been taken. Neither of us wanted to go through the carnage that was the inside of the nursery again, so we walked around the outside of the cabin to get to the front. Birchen and Oakley were waiting for us there.
“We confirmed the culprit,” I said. “It’s Troy Redwolf. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
