Home / Werewolf / The Tyrant alpha / Chapter 421 - Chapter 430

All Chapters of The Tyrant alpha: Chapter 421 - Chapter 430

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419

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
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420

Somehow, this job defaulted to me after Una mated Killian. Mari point blank refused to take over bee duty, and then she mated Darragh Ryan. Kennedy is really good at not being around when conversations about the divvying up of duties happen.I’m an unenthusiastic beekeeper, but I’m a truly reluctant bee murderess. No matter how necessary I know it is, drowning them feels awful. I shake the jar as hard as I can, trying to give them as quick a death as possible. They’re dying for the greater good, but they don’t know that, and even if they did, I bet they wouldn’t have volunteered.I hate playing Fate.After two minutes of shaking, I let the jar sit for the requisite two additional minutes. While the last of the bees give up the ghost, I survey our little kingdom.Abertha is off on her travels, so her cottage windows are shut despite the warm weather. There’s no one around except her cat Appollonia, although she’s nowhere to be found at the moment.These days, Una works down at the new
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421

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
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422

Run. Home. Now.The voice brays at the top of her lungs, but where’s my wolf? She’s quiet. Watchful.Expectant.She’s on her feet, nose pressed to the border between us. Staring at the river.Don’t look up. Run.My wolf whines. Softly.I glance up. My feet sputter to a halt.Run, the voice screams. A fresh surge of adrenaline crashes through my veins, sending my heart thumping into my breastbone. I moan.He’s there.My hands clutch my skirt, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.My mate is standing on the other side of the river.Glaring at me.My wolf is afraid to move. She plays a statue, her tail motionless in mid-air. Watching me.I let go of my skirt, letting my shirt cuffs fall over my fisted hands. I should run.Why am I not running?Justus’s long brown hair is snarled, but loose strands still fly when the wind picks up. His gnawed ears poke from his tangled mane, pointed and furry. Wolf ears.His face is hard, every angle sharp, every plane spare. His beard hides his mouth. He’s
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423

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
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424

My mate is never going to have to trade anything to eat, but when I teach her to hunt, I’m going to have to catch the critters beforehand and hobble them. Slice an ankle tendon or something. She’ll never catch them otherwise. She has the shortest legs I’ve ever seen on a full-grown female wolf.I can’t wait to run beside her. I’ll have to trot. She won’t be able to keep up. She’s so low to the ground, I don’t think she’ll be able to see over the meadow grass we have to pass through at the base of the evergreen camp.I won’t mind going slow for her. Inside my chest, my wolf howls in agreement. He wants out, and he’ll walk if he has to, even though he longs to chase her.Catch her.Take her.I can’t let him out. He’s waited so long, and she smells so good. If I let him take our body, he’d be on her in a second. Annie would hate us even more, then, even though I don’t think her wolf would mind—not with the way she’s draped over my forearm, her tail swishing lazily across my abs as she sn
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425

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
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426

Shit. Did I shout or growl at her back then? Maybe, yes, maybe I did. Afterward. When she told me she didn’t really want me, and I was disgusted at myself and angry at her. What did I say?Horrible things. I can’t remember my exact words, but I wanted to hurt her, and after I swore I wouldn’t.I feel sick and wrong, the happiness I felt in her presence snuffed like a candle, replaced with gnawing guilt.What have I done?I hold her wolf in the air, so we’re eye to eye. Her little legs dangle and her tail swishes as she cocks her head, patiently waiting.“Who hurt you?” I ask.Her sweet face falls. She glances down and away.“What happened? Were you attacked?” I try to keep my voice even. I wish it wasn’t so gruff and rusty.Her wolf growls low in the back of her throat, and wriggles in my hands. She wants down. She won’t look me in the eye. My stomach sinks.I set her gently on her paws, and she promptly turns her back on me and trots off down the creek bed trail.That’s a yes. Someth
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427

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
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428

Thank goodness she’s squeamish. Quarry Pack males and their mates hunt and eat in their fur during full moon hunts, but I never have, since I’ve never gone on a run. The meat I eat comes wrapped in brown paper.Her stomach rumbles at the thought, the memory of the squirrel swiftly losing its ick factor as she stretches her jaw and gently locks it around Justus’s muscular upper arm. His bicep flexes, almost imperceptibly, while his breath remains slow and even. He’s pretending to be asleep.It’s a trap!I focus with all my power on dragging my wolf away, but she’s in full control, and she’s lost all sense of self-preservation. There’s meat in her mouth, and she’s not letting go. She slowly sinks her teeth down, but not enough to puncture his flesh. She’s just—playing. She knows he’s awake.My wolf doesn’t play. She never has, not even when we were very little. She stays quiet and keeps her head down.But now she’s closing her jaw on Justus’s arm, slowly shaking her head back and forth,
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