Page 181
Story: May the Wolf Die
The air shifted, and the scent of dominance crashed over me like a tidal wave, swallowing up the king’s commands and bringing them back out to sea. My mind returned and my body was mine again.
I gasped, my lungs filling painlessly as my eyes snapped open.
Alaroth reeled back, stunned. I smiled as the cracks in his perfect mask began to show, the disbelief clear in his cold, aqua eyes.
His lips parted, struggling to find the words. “That’s—”
He couldn’t finish the sentence, the understanding hitting him.
I was no longer the alpha of alphas.
The presence behind me—heavy, absolute—was.
I forced myself to my feet, trembling but free, and turned towards the figure standing in front of the shifter army.
Camden.
His blue eyes burned with authority, his stance unyielding. He emitted pure power from his frame in a way I don’t think it ever had with me.
“Surprise, asshole,” Camden said, his voice edged with fury.
Alaroth fumed, unable to speak as he recalculated his plans. How could he fulfill the prophecy to his heart’s content if it was no longer true?
I breathed in, feeling my magic surge back to life.
My fists clenched, and I prepared myself for round two when the king threw his head back and laughed. Alpha shifters moved around us, like river water parting over rocks. They poured into the haven, ripping the fae guards apart with their bare hands.
“Oh Ezra, do you know what this means?” the king finally said.
I didn’t reply.
“If you’re no longer the alpha from the prophecy, it means I have no use for you.”
He snapped his fingers, the bars keeping the Berserkers contained disappearing, and they headed straight towards Camden, snarling and foaming at the mouth.
Then he held out his hand and a deep shot of pain hit me right in the chest, radiating out and causing me to fall once more.
“It means I can kill you.”
77
MARLOWE
Beta shifters rushed out of the gaps in the outer wall that my pack had made, fleeing towards the safety of the trees in the distance.
“We have to cover them, Wasabi,” I said to the vryscral, who trilled in agreement.
I pulled magic into my hands, shaping it into a bow and arrow. If I was supposed to be the “arrow that will pierce the hearts of men and fae alike,” I might as well take my prophecy literally.
Had I ever shot a bow and arrow before? Just in gym class in high school. But trying to remember the mechanics of it all only brought forth memories of my creepy gym teacher who had insisted on “helping” all the girls by grabbing them from behind to adjust their postures.
Gross.
I looked down, searching for my first target, when I spotted him—a fae soldier, using a whip of magic to wrap around the leg of an escaping beta. I allowed my instinct to take over, letting the magical arrow loose and praying it didn’t just fall pathetically three feet in front of me.
Much to my delighted surprise, it found its target perfectly, piercing straight through the fae’s armor into his heart.
Wow, maybe the prophecyhadbeen literal.
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