Все главы The Tyrant alpha: Глава 451 - Глава 460

I didn’t have my sire long, but I’m one to listen the first time I’m told, so his voice is still clear in my head. That’s why I slow my pace as our hunting band leaves the camp, so we can walk side-by-side, and Max doesn’t have to struggle to keep up.I vividly remember traveling from our summer to winter camps one year, and how the alpha at that time took the lead of our long line. My sire hung back to bring up the rear, and I was impatient. I didn’t want to be last.Of course, I whined about it, and my sire said, “Would you rather be in the front with your nose up Alpha’s ass or back here where we can actually see it if a feral snatches a straggling female?” It made sense to me then, and it makes sense to me now, although I think moving as a herd is safer than a line. Much quicker to form a defensive phalanx when you’re already bunched together.The way to the lake grows more difficult as the hours pass. At first, we travel through familiar woods, but soon enough the terrain gets st

For a long time, Quarry Pack kept to many of the old ways. Some even lived in dens, and we still ran with them then during full moons. And then, when my parents were young, Declan Kelly came from nowhere, killed their alpha, and took over, in part by convincing them that we were the enemy.Obviously, there were no more runs after that, but until the wasting sickness decimated our numbers, our males would still risk occasional incursions onto their territory. Twice they found runts left to die in the forest, and once, they rescued a female beaten and left for dead in a gulch. One of the runts died, but the other lived, and the female happened to mate the male who carried her back to camp and birthed Alroy before she was taken by the sickness.I love my pack, but I know them. They’re as susceptible as anyone to the lure of a strong male who promises to keep the bad wolves away. They want to believe that someone has the power to keep them safe, and if they were weak and scared again, lik

I’m not too mad about it. Or hurt. I just can’t settle. The breeze is sweet, and the yipping and shouting of the pups as they swarm the sycamore are soothing in their own way, but as the hours wear on, it’s getting to be too much. I’m homesick. I want to lie on my bed with my fan blowing straight on me from my night table and take a few months to work through everything that’s happened in the past two days.The Last Pack females keep trying to be polite and include me, but my calm is wearing thin, and every time they preface a comment with, “Annie,” I jolt and drop a stitch. Being with them is nothing like being with Una, Kennedy, and Mari. They know how I am, and I don’t ever have to worry about offending them with my startles or my silence.My stomach aches with missing them, and it’s not a new feeling. I’ve been missing them a while now. If I were home, they wouldn’t be there. Una and Mari would be with their mates, and Kennedy would be out, training or scouting or hunting. She’s g

Diantha continues, “He freed Nessa, told her to hide, and went after her brother. He tried his best, but he was on four legs, and the hunters had a huge lead and guns and numbers.”Nessa takes over. “I found a place I could fit between the roots of an old oak by a dried-up stream. It felt like I was there for hours. Every so often, there would be a gunshot, and I would pray so hard for another one because as long as they were shooting, Bowen might still be alive.”The wolf on Lelia’s lap jumps down and pads over to Nessa, winding between her calves. Nessa’s fingers float down to trail through the fur on the top of the wolf’s head.“Eventually, there weren’t any more shots. And then Justus came back, covered in blood. Weeping.” Tears stream down Nessa’s cheeks. “He said he was too late.”“He killed every single one of those bastards, though.” There’s a fierce light in Diantha’s wolfish eyes.“I wanted to see Bowen. I made Justus take me to him. There was a North Border wolf in the dirt

She flashes her plans into my head. It’s a picture of him on his knees, his palms raised in surrender, as she sinks her fangs into his neck.Well. We’re not going to do that. Mostly because in her imagination, she’s about five times her actual size.When we get to the back of the gathering, my feet slow and then stick in place. Efa strains against my hand, but I can’t go farther. I’d have to weave through the males, and I can ignore the voice’s incessant shrieks, but I can’t do that.Turn around now!All of a sudden, Efa makes herself dead weight, trying to move me another step forward. She ends up dangling from my hand, parallel to the ground like an ice dancer. She whines. I get it. I want to see what’s happening, too.Danger. Better run now. Before it’s too late.The pack is excited, almost raucous.“They must’ve got something good,” Elspeth observes, rising on her tiptoes to try to see between the males’ shoulders.Efa wriggles her hand free from mine—my palms are weirdly slick, p