Page 26 of In Your Eyes
Without conscious thought, I hustled toward the source of the sound. It didn’t take long before another of my senses picked up Korban—I could smell his blood. Howling to the sky, I sped up my pace.
I had bitten him, but not enough to make his blood flow. When I’d left him he had been on the ground, but not wounded, not bleeding. What had they done to him?
The scene I’d left had been confusing; the one that greeted me when I returned was utter chaos. The noises and scents were coming from the workshop, so I went straight there. The older pack members—my father’s friends—were gone. Korban was crouched in a corner in human form, clutching a shovel. The bindings were gone from his wrists, but his skin was raw in the spots where they’d been. His torso was covered in scratches and bites, and there was rope hanging off one of his ankles, so I guessed they’d bound his legs after I left.
Rick Collins, Damon Huntsworth, and Paul Strickland were in their wolf forms. They’d formed a semicircle around Korban, baring their teeth and jumping forward, trying to get to him while avoiding the shovel he swung.
I growled and clawed at the nearest body, gouging Paul’s skin and making him yip in pain. All three wolves turned to look at me. It was a remarkably stupid move, because it left their backs to the man they’d been attacking and who was brandishing a weapon.
Surprisingly, Korban didn’t take advantage of the opportunity. He remained in place, white-knuckling the shovel and watching. He was always watching.
Though I wanted to shift into my human form to ask my pack members why they hadn’t listened to my order and to punish them for daring to attack my tribute, I couldn’t. My wolf was enraged, full of emotion and power and want. I had no idea how to sate my beast and I stood no chance of releasing myself from that form while I was in that condition.
So instead, I slowly stalked my pack members, my chest rumbling, my lips curled over my teeth. My anger felt like a living, breathing thing, and I wasn’t sure I could control it, wasn’t sure I wanted to. I’d had enough of Rick questioning me, enough of them whispering about me, enough of people doubting me. I’d had enough.
My roar shook the walls of the wooden building with its volume and intensity. I’d never made a sound like that, never heard a sound like that. Immediately, Damon and Paul rolled onto their backs and showed me their bellies before shifting into their human forms and cowering. I enjoyed seeing their submission, but it wasn’t enough to sate me.
Rick remained in his wolf form, his gaze darting between mine and the ground, like he was trying to stand tall, trying to best me, but wasn’t completely sure he could. I, on the other hand, was sure I was the stronger shifter, so I pounced, landing on top of him with my jaws around his throat.
Though I didn’t like him, he was my pack member, and my father said an Alpha cared for his pack, taught his pack. So I gave him a chance to submit, shaking his neck without snapping it. But when he kept growling and moving, fighting my control, my dominance, I lost my patience. I didn’t care about Rick, didn’t know what I could teach him, wasn’t sure why it mattered anyway. He would stop challenging me, either on his own or because I ended his life. Both options held appeal.
I’d tightened my bite, pressing my canines against his skin, almost digging in, when I heard the voice in my head.
Balance your strength with compassion, Samuel. He failed in his mission to impress the pack. Be patient; wait for him to relent.
Patience, compassion. Those were things my father discussed often. The realization stopped me from piercing Rick’s skin, but I still trembled with adrenaline and rage.
Shhh, the voice whispered.Wait. Just wait.
My muscles relaxed, the pressure in my chest loosened, and my breathing evened. I still held Rick immobile, still showed him my dominance, but I was no longer on the edge of losing control.
That’s right. Just like that.
Within a few seconds, the furry body below me whimpered and then shifted into his human form. I remained in place and stared into his eyes until he darted his gaze away.
“You said we could have him once you were done,” Rick said hoarsely. “Then you left, so we thought we could. We thought he was ours—”
I tightened my jaw and growled low in my throat to show my displeasure at his lie. I had told them to put Korban in the workshop. I hadn’t given them permission to attack him. He was mine. I jolted at the thought.
No. He wasn’t mine. He was a tribute. The pack lost an Alpha. The tribute was for the pack. The logic didn’t change the feeling in my gut.
“I told you we shouldn’t have come back. Our dads tied him up. That’s how we should have left him,” Damon said.
“But he’s a tribute!” Rick answered.
I clamped down harder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice strained.
Realizing I was holding him too tight for him to talk and probably too tight for him to breathe, I backed off. He scrambled away, clutching his neck and looking at me warily.
I barked and stepped forward.
“Alpha!” he yelled, and he tilted his head, showing me his neck, which was already red and was sure to show bruises by the end of the day. “I’m sorry, Alpha.”
Stopping my advance, I glared at the men, bared my teeth, and gave a low, rumbling growl, telling them to leave. Without further argument, they backed out of the workshop. I listened to their footsteps as they ran away and remained on guard until I knew they were gone. As out of sorts as I was, it took me some time to ask myself what I was guarding and who I was guarding it from.
Rick wasn’t a nice man, but he was a member of my pack. His friends I didn’t know well, but they were also part of my pack. I was responsible for them. And yet I’d attacked them, scared them, pushed them away.
