Page 179

Story: May the Wolf Die

He lifted his hand, the intention to bring it across her face plain in his cruel expression, but Ezra grabbed his wrist and held it steady. “I would advise against striking my sister.”

Their eyes locked, shock coloring the king’s features. He tried to take his hand back, but Ezra held it firm.

I could hear my heart beating in my chest, my fingers trembling in anticipation of my next move. Could the king hear it, too?

If he could, at least Ezra’s defiance was distracting him. He narrowed his gaze, focusing all his attention on the huge alpha. “Has someone been rooting around in that doggy brain of yours?”

Ezra smiled coolly. “Now, why would you think that, Your Majesty?”

A thick blanket of tension fell over us, and I held my breath out of fear I’d give myself away before it was time.

Any second now…

“Ezra…” the king said slowly, his wrist still locked in the alpha’s grip. “Let. Go.”

“I’ll let go once you promise not to touch my sister.”

A series of explosions rocked the ground, bringing down large portions of the walls to the haven.

The king sneered, his expression becoming crazed. “Ezra, what have you done?”

Panicked shouts filled the air, and the alpha army readied themselves behind us, waiting for orders as the beta shifters poured out of the gaps the pack had made in their coordinated attack. They ran in all directions, pursued by the fae soldiers who cut them down mercilessly.

“Now!” Marlowe cried.

I released the magic shrouds from the rest of us, helping Marlowe onto her vryscral and joining her as we took to the skies. Ezra launched himself towards the king, engaging him in hand-to-hand combat while Cam ran to the army.

Even from up high, where Marlowe and I began an onslaught of aerial attacks against the fae, I could hear Cam’s speech and commanding barks, taking control of the king’s shifter soldiers.

“Look at you.” His voice was raw, edged with the snarl of his beast, barely contained. He spread his arms, gesturing to the males in front of him. “Look at what he has made you.”

I sent a cloud of darkness to bind a fae soldier before he could descend on a fleeing mother with her children, forcing a tendril down his throat to coat his lungs and seize his heart.

“You were born to run. To hunt. To fight as a pack. And yet, he’s caged you like dogs and shackled you in silver. Made you kneel before a male who does not bleed like we do, who does not fight like we do. A male who makes a mockery of our designations, forcing omegas into his bed while denying you the right to form families and packs, to bear pups. And now he sends you to kill your own kind in a war that was never yours to begin with.”

A bow and arrow of light formed in Marlowe’s hands, and from the winged vryscral, she shot down guard after guard with deadly accuracy. Her hair blew wildly behind her, and she looked every bit like Diana, the ancient Roman goddess of the hunt, wild animals, and the moon.

The Moon Goddess incarnate.

“You know what I am. You feel it in your blood, in the pull of your instincts. I am no king’s commander. I am no servant to a throne built on the backs of our kind. I am youralpha.”

His voice sent echoes throughout the air, the dominance powerful enough to cause even me to pause and listen.

“The strongest among you fell to me, because strength is earned, not given. Loyalty is claimed, not commanded. And now you stand at a crossroads.”

The rest of the pack had shifted into wolves. Archer and Nolan led betas to safety, while Julian and Elias stayed behind to attack the soldiers, bringing them down before they could hurt the escaping shifters.

“You can return to your cages. You can lick the boots of a king who will never see you as more than beasts. Or…” He stopped, letting the silence stretch, thick and heavy. “Or you can fight. Not for him. Not for me. But forus. For our kind, for our brothers and sisters rotting behind these walls. For the right to run free under the moons, the wind in your fur and the earth under your paws.”

A growl started in the ranks, low, rolling through them like thunder. Marlowe directed the vryscral towards the army, watching Cam in awe.

“You were never meant to fight alone. You were never meant to bow.” His voice and hands rose. “Fight for your freedom, and I will fight beside you. Stand with me, and we will tear down this kingdom that has wronged you—brick by brick, bone by bone.”

The growls swelled into a roar, something old and primal breaking free from the crowd. They were his now.

I smiled to myself.

The king didn’t stand a chance.

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