Page 74
Story: May the Wolf Die
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, watching as my pack struggled to reach me.
“I’m not leaving here without you,” he replied. “Ideserve an omega,I’mthe strongest alpha. This fight determines nothing, you belong tome.”
He opened his mouth to bark at the crowd when the doors to the temple hall burst open and revealed a large, familiar figure, surveying the chaos with amusement in his eyes.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. His timing was either perfect or dog shit.
“I hereby enter the Rite of Dominion for the omega!” he cried.
Roland snapped his attention to the naked alpha who now sauntered slowly to the ring, eyeing him warily. “And who the hell are you?” he yelled.
He smiled. “Ezra Linden, representing King Alaroth’s claim of my sister.”
So his plan was to take me from the asshole frying pan and into the asshole fire?
“No, you don’t!” I yelled. “You can’t take me anyway, it’s too late! Julian won!”
My pack circled around Julian and blocked Ezra’s path, growling and starting to crouch in preparation to attack.
Roland barked, “Quiet!”
The room went silent, but then Ezra started to laugh and shake his head. “You call that a bark?”
I felt Roland tense behind me. “I am the leader of the Conclave, I am the strongest…”
“Silence,” Ezra whispered.
Roland’s voice disappeared, and his mouth opened in shockas he clutched his throat in confusion.
Was I happy my brother was about to steal Julian’s victory? No. Was I happy he was here to finally take me to his magical faerie land? Of course not.
But watching him dominate Roland with a single word had been an absolute delight.
Ezra approached my pack and gave them a terse, apologetic nod. “Come, I don’t want to hurt you, so let’s make this quick.”
Cam looked over at the priestess and she averted her gaze in shame. “He registered before Eamon Frost’s defeat. He is allowed to compete.”
My chest tightened and I finally wriggled out of Roland’s grasp. I ran straight to Ezra and grabbed his arm. “Please, Ezra, don’t do this!”
He cupped my face in his large hands and sighed. “Marlowe, it’s time. We can’t put it off any longer. Either I beat Julian in this ring fair and square, or I’m going to have to kill your pack. Which is it?”
The room around me disappeared, the only sound in my ears the frantic beating of my own heart. “Ezra, no…”
Julian roared back to life, taking out his mouth guard to spit blood on the floor, then popping it back in. “Let’s get this over with,” he growled.
There was no way Julian had one more fight in him. He’d barely beaten Eamon. I stood in between them, arms spread to protect my pack mate. “No, Ezra. I’m not allowing this. It’s not fair. Julian won and I’m leaving with them.”
Roland finally found his voice again and yelled into the chaos. “If you’re her brother, you can’t fight. The Rite of Dominion is for mating bonds!”
I gagged slightly at the thought of my womb also being one of the prizes tonight, and thankfully Ezra seemed to agree, his mouth contorting with disgust. But then again, he was here to apparently collect me for some other guy, so I guess he didn’t really see me as more than an object at the moment, either.
My own brother. God, this was messed up.
He walked slowly towards the Conclave leader, sneering and looking down at him. “You call yourself an alpha?” Then he turned around and addressed the whole crowd. “And you call yourselves shifters? You are allpathetic!” he shouted.
The insult caused everyone to wince in submission, including Roland. “You’re nothing but watered down mongrels. The idea thatanyof you would be worthy of my sister is laughable!”
Julian swayed on his feet, shaking his head to clear his vision as he prepared for the final battle of the Rite. “Marlowe chose me, she chose our pack. Who the hell are you to say you know better?”
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