Chapter 4

Dad lay in a pool of blood. The silver dagger was still lodged in his chest, blood pouring endlessly and staining the frozen soil beneath him.

I stood there, frozen in place.

The Omegas were scared stupid, too. They scrambled back, pulling their pants up as they went.

Lucas clicked his tongue.

"What bad luck," he said from the platform, waving his hand dismissively. "But it's good that he's dead, too. Saves us the trouble of finding a place to bury him."

Mia, nestled against him, stood on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear.

Lucas' eyes lit up as he looked at me.

"Elena, the old bastard's dead, but his stuff is still around, right? Hand over the Alpha King's seal, and I'll allow you to collect his corpse."

I fell to my knees and crawled toward Dad.

There was no seal. He'd left nothing behind—nothing except the life he'd given up so that he wouldn't drag me down.

"There isn't one…" I rasped. "There's nothing…"

"You're not going to tell me?" Lucas sneered.

He snapped his fingers, and two heavily armored guards stepped forward.

"Drag the old bastard's body to the dissolution pit," he ordered. "I hear the flesh-eating rats in the pit have been hungry lately. Let them have a taste of the former Alpha King."

"No!" I screamed, throwing myself over Dad's body, clinging to him desperately.

"Please, spare him! He's already dead! He's the hero who broke his leg for the Kingdom!"

"A hero?"

Lucas' expression twisted with disdain. "He used my father to climb to his position, and you dare call him a hero?"

"What are you all waiting for?" he barked. "Do I need to do it myself?"

One guard roughly grabbed me by the hair and yanked me away. Another seized Dad by the ankle and dragged him across the gravel-covered square like a dead dog.

Dad's head struck the rocks, leaving streaks of blood, and his broken leg twisted at a sickening angle.

"Stop!" I screamed, struggling like a madwoman, my nails ripping into the guard's arm.

The guard backhanded me across the face with a loud snap. I fell to the ground, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.

But I didn't care about the pain.

I saw Mia laughing.

I saw the mocking smirk on Lucas' face.

I saw the cold, indifferent gazes of the surrounding werewolves.

I saw Dad's eyes—still wide open—staring at the sky. In those eyes were indignation, rage, and expectation for me.

The final words Dad mouthed to me right before he died echoed in my mind.

"Kill them."

My blood instantly boiled. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it would explode out of my chest.

A power I had never felt before surged up from the depths of my spine. It was an instinct that had been suppressed for more than 20 years.

"Let. Him. Go!"

The guards pretended not to hear me and continued dragging Dad.

"I said… Let him go!"

A wolf's howl tore through the square.

It wasn't my voice. It was the wolf within me—a rage-filled roar born from the deepest part of my soul.

The terrifying sound wave exploded outward, kicking up stones and snow from the ground.

An agonizing scream escaped the guard who had been dragging Dad. His entire arm had shattered from the sonic blast, white bone piercing through his skin.

The other guard who had been gripping my hair was blasted away, slamming into one of the pillars on the platform. His chest caved in on impact, and he dropped unconscious on the spot.

The raging wind in the square suddenly stopped.

The dark clouds above us split apart, and a massive blood-red moon appeared out of nowhere.

Crimson light washed over the land.

Every werewolf present stared up in disbelief. In an instant, all of them dropped to their knees, completely unable to resist.

Lucas looked up in horror and saw me slowly rising to my feet.

My pupils were no longer black. Instead, they were pure molten gold.

Step by step, I stalked toward Lucas. Each step carried an overwhelming sense of pressure.

"Lucas," I said, staring at him, my voice sounding as though it came straight from hell itself. "How do you want to die?"