All Chapters of The Tyrant alpha: Chapter 431 - Chapter 440

No. I don’t even need to ask her. She’s fascinated by him. Even now, she’s mimicking his side stretches, even though it doesn’t work at all with her sausage-shaped body. If I want to run, I have to take back our skin, and then I’ll be naked and slow. I won’t get far if he comes after me.Maybe he wouldn’t. He seems fond of my wolf, but he hates me. His contempt burned in his eyes at the river. He didn’t try to hide it. He wanted me to know how he felt. I don’t need to dig the bond out of the deep hole I buried it in to confirm it and feel his hatred in my insides.I don’t care. It’s good that he hates me. I don’t want any of this. I want my morning tea, my toast and jam, and my bathroom. I’m so dirty. My fur is stiff, and I do not want to know what’s in it.I don’t want to go to the Last Pack. Everyone says they live in dens like our ancestors, like animals, with no laws but strength and no justice except claws and fangs. At least that’s what the instructors said at Moon Lake Academy.

I don’t see how it could possibly be man-made, but I also don’t see how nature could make a place so clearly designed as shelter. It’s a place out of time. Even the colors are enchanted. Every brown and green and white is bold—the brownest brown, the greenest green.As my gaze darts around the clearing, searching for threats and escape routes, I pick out at least a dozen low, sloped entranceways among the rocks. Those must be the dens. Glowing almond-shaped eyes blink from the shadows, visible from hundreds of yards away.Closer, and more terrifying, dozens of males have risen to their feet, looming beside rough-hewn stools, wooden crates, and overturned rusted buckets, glaring at me in spiky silence, poised to attack. I know that stance. I’ve seen it a hundred times in front of Killian’s dais after dinner when he calls the males to fight.Don’t move. Don’t breathe.My wolf presses closer to Justus’s side, searching for the feel of his low rumble. It soothes her. She trusts him to pro

Can the pups shift back and forth to human babies, or are they stuck as wolves until puberty? Somehow my curiosity allows me to relax enough to venture a little closer to the boundary between my wolf and me. The pups don’t seem traumatized. One lies on her side, dozing off. Her belly is pure white. It looks so soft.Another pup snuffles around the feet and legs of the males around him, yipping and nipping and head-butting at random until he gets a pat on his flank or a scratch behind his ears.The third pup—the littlest one, a mix of her mother’s black and her father’s gray—seems as captivated by me as I am by her. She keeps padding toward me. The first few times, her dam yipped at her to come back, but when she just kept approaching, her dam gave a rumble, warning her to behave, and let her come.She trots straight to me. Inside my wolf, I reach for her. It’s a reflex. I’ve done it before I realize what I’m doing, and as soon as it registers, I drop my arms to my sides.I don’t get c

The entire pack is showing neck, and they’re chastened—and wary—but they aren’t afraid.I don’t understand.Justus blows out his cheeks, clenches his teeth and glares beseechingly up at the sky for a moment, and then points at Alroy’s wolf and says, “You watch how you talk to females. I’ll skin you and trade your pelt to Quarry Pack. Try me. See if I won’t!” He bellows the final words.Alroy’s wolf whines and tucks his snout into his shoulder.Then Justus turns to Diantha. “You—” he snaps, then stops himself and starts again with a deliberately, teeth-grindingly even voice. “Mind your own business. Please.” He surveys his pack and announces, “This is Annie. She’s my mate. That’s all. No need for all of this. Go on about your day now.”“Yes, Alpha,” the pack mutters.He growls. “I’m not the alpha.” He strides forward, picks up my wolf and the little gray pup, and tucks one of us under each arm. “You don’t need an alpha to tell you what to do. You need common sense, so some of you are o

My wolf yips to be let down, but Justus lifts her a little closer and bends his head to talk into her ear. “The pup is Griff. He’s Elspeth’s oldest. He does take his good ol’ time, but he can be relied upon not to nibble the beef on his way back with it.”Justus points my wolf at the older male who started chopping carrots. “That’s Tarquin. If no one else makes a move to get dinner together, he’ll do it once he gets hungry, but he only ever makes stew.”So the males cook in this pack? None of the females are helping. As far as I can tell, they’re all still lounging under their canopy.“The male with the black and white ears is Pierce. The skinny one thieving meat is Colm.”I watch Colm, who is tall and lanky as a beanpole, carve a haunch into bite-size pieces, pausing every so often when no one’s watching to toss a hunk into the air, snap it up with his teeth, and scarf it down.Why is Justus telling me their names?It feels like the first day of school at Moon Lake Academy when the h