Semua Bab The Tyrant alpha: Bab 421 - Bab 430

His sad whine tears at my heart.“On three,” I say. “One. Two.” I roll him onto his back, pin him in place with one arm, and frantically pack his wound with moss before any more intestine pops out. He manages a few weak kicks and swipes before he passes out from the blood loss. I finish binding his stomach and then glare at the others. “Who else is hurt?”They scuff their paws in the dirt, hang their muzzles, and keep their traps shut.I raise my voice. “Who else? We’re not leaving a trail for Kelly to follow. We’re already going to have to move the pack. Did you even think of that? Kelly will come after us.” I’m bellowing now. “Did you consider the elders and the pups? Do you think our females are going to be happy to leave their dens because you took it upon yourselves to kick a gods-damned hornet’s nest? For nothing?”I give my anger free rein. The rage is well-worn, as familiar now as breathing, but I still remember a time when I didn’t feel it burning in my guts every waking minu

And I’m happy for her—I am—but by the time I can excuse myself without causing concern, I’m sliced to ribbons. No one will ever love me like Killian loves Una, and I’ll never have my own baby to love like Una loves Raff.But you’re safe. The voice is stubborn. Argumentative. Right.I am safe, and it feels like cold, dirty dish water.There’s no sense in dwelling on what can’t be changed. I shake it off and rinse out the jar now empty of dead bees. The sun is inching closer to the peaks of Salt Mountain. It’s time to go home to change before I head for the lodge. I don’t need to rush, but I should get going.There’s never a need to rush anymore. There’s no one at the cabin hogging the bathroom. The days of us racing each other to the bathroom are over. Kennedy usually showers at the pack’s gym.Why am I so moody and mopey today? It’s not that time of the month. I just finished my period.I shake it off again, for real this time, and dry the testing jar before tucking it neatly in the m

Run! Run!The voice is still trying, but I know my wolf is frozen in place, even more stuck than I would have been. She’s all animal, and she recognizes him as the alpha she needs to placate to get out of this alive.My wolf and I watch, mesmerized by fear, as the anger seeps from his face, leaving his brown eyes unaccountably sad.He sinks to his knees, sits on his heels, and sighs. His shoulders drop, and he hangs his head, his beard bunching against his chest. For a long time, he stares at the dirt. My wolf stops shaking, distracted by his silence.Finally, he lifts his chin to look her in the eyes, and he says, “Annie, I would give anything for you not to be afraid of me. Your fear is the greatest shame of my life.” He straightens, collecting a breath. “But we can’t stay here if you won’t shift. I’m sorry.”He rises to his feet and scoops her up, too quickly for her to do anything but stiffen into a plank. He tucks her to his chest, his forearm supporting her belly, her rump in th

She yips some more, bossy and impatient. I catch up, and she darts ahead again. She’ll only go so far, no further, constantly checking over her shoulder to make sure I’m following even though she must scent that I’m close. She has to hear me, too. I walk softly, but not silently. Her double-checking must be a nervous habit.Her wolf is more confident than her human, but she’s still twitchier than any other female I know.No sooner than I have the thought, leaves rustle overhead to our left and wood cracks against wood. A dead branch must’ve fallen. She dashes back to me, burrowing between my legs. I quickly plant my feet so I don’t squash her, and then stand in place as she crouches low to the ground, quivering against my ankle.I squat and rumble to reassure her, running my palm down her trembling flank. “You’re safe. It was just a falling branch. Pretty far away. No danger to us.”She barks unhappily, like I ought not have allowed it to happen. I hide a grin. She glares balefully in

At first, my wolf fights me hard—he wants his mate—but I manage to distract him with squirrel and steal our skin back when he’s logy from the meal. His stomach has always been his greatest weakness.I take my time returning. The area is still clear of predators, and I haven’t ventured far. If I tune in to the bond, I can tell my mate has stayed where I put her.Because she’s too afraid to leave?Of course. I’ve stolen her, and she slept a long time, so we’re miles away from territory she’d recognize. She’s stuck with me.I whistle when I’m a few yards away from the hidey-hole so she knows I’m coming. She doesn’t come out to greet me. I don’t suppose she would.I can’t see her until I get close to the alcove. When I do, my heart sinks.She’s dug herself a hole between the roots and covered herself with dirt and leaves. All I can make out is her black nose and solemn, accusing brown eyes.I crouch and reach out my hand. “What have you done? Mud bath?”She narrows her eyes and yips. Or w