Page 20 of Alpha Unchained (Wolves of Wild Hollow #2)

He circles, wary now, but there’s nothing left but fury in him.

He hurls himself at me, slamming into my side, rolling us both over and over.

His teeth catch my ear, tearing a bloody chunk.

Pain flashes red in my vision, but I fight through it, circling, snapping at his hind leg, dragging him down.

He rolls, twisting beneath me, and for a moment his teeth close around my throat—not deep, but enough to send a thrill of panic through me.

I remember my father’s voice: Don’t fight the wolf. Become it. I let instinct drive me—twisting, kicking, slamming my head back into his snout. He yelps and loosens his grip. The crowd’s howls become a frenzy, echoes ricocheting off the stones.

For a heartbeat, Waylon has me pinned, claws raking my side. He bears down, his breath hot and foul in my face. I can see the moon reflected in his eyes. The world is nothing but fur, teeth, blood.

But my wolf refuses to yield. With a surge of desperate strength, I roll us over, sinking my fangs deep into his foreleg. He howls, jerking away, limping. I leap for his throat, teeth grazing fur and skin, tasting the salt and wildness of his fear.

His fury surges like wildfire—reckless and all-consuming.

He slams into me, but I meet it with equal force.

The clearing becomes a storm of fur, blood, and motion, each blow a choice, each bite a promise.

He catches my side, pinning me to the earth.

The pack howls, the sound wild and urgent.

I dig my claws in, twist, and launch him off me, sending him crashing into one of the standing stones.

He stumbles, dazed. I don’t wait. I leap, jaws closing around his throat.

For a heartbeat, I hold him there, all my weight pressing down.

He struggles, then goes still. Submits. The wolf in me wants to finish it—to end the threat, to prove once and for all who leads. But something in me—human and wolf both—hesitates. I loosen my grip. Waylon’s eyes are wide, white-rimmed with fear and something that might be respect.

I release him. He collapses, panting, defeated. The pack surges forward, howling their approval—or maybe their relief. The elder steps into the ring, hand raised.

“It’s done. Luke McKinley is alpha.”

I turn back to human; the mist swirling around me, revealing skin, bone, and battered flesh. Someone tosses me a blanket, and I pull it over my shoulders. The pack stares—some hopeful, some wary, all of them waiting for my next move.

Waylon kneels, bloodied and beaten. I meet his gaze. “You’re finished. Your rule ends tonight, and so does your place among us. By sunrise, you’re off McKinley land—or you’ll face the teeth of the pack you betrayed.”

Waylon staggers to his feet, glaring at me, then disappears into the darkness beyond the ring of stones. The pack watches him go, uneasy, but the threat is gone—for now.

One of the younger cousins steps up. “You may regret letting him live, Luke. Men like Waylon don’t forgive. They wait.”

I nod, never looking away from Waylon. “That’s my risk to take. I won’t lead with fear.”

I stand there, breathing hard, surveying the faces ringed around me. There are whispers—some respectful, some doubting, a few openly hostile. One of them scowls at me, but doesn’t challenge. Aunt Rose nods once, old eyes shrewd and appraising.

Another elder claps me on the shoulder, voice low. “You earned it. But the pack will test you. They always do.”

“I know.” My words sound stronger than I feel.

One of the younger men edges forward. “Alpha—what about the syndicate? What about Elena?”

I fix him with a stare. “No one touches her. Or the child. Anyone caught dealing with outsiders will answer to me. Is that clear?”

He nods, but there’s fear behind his eyes. The scent rides the cold air, mingling with blood and the wet grass. I know tonight isn’t an ending. It’s the start of a war I can’t fight alone.

The adrenaline leaves me shaky, hollowed out.

But there’s no time to rest. One of my old contacts slips from the shadows—a skinny man with nervous eyes.

He whispers quick and low, “You were right. I followed him. Waylon’s been in contact with someone from the outside—he’s been leaking details, likely for a price. He’s the reason they targeted Elena.”

Rage boils through me. “You're sure?”

He nods, eyes darting to the stones. “I followed him myself. He’s out for blood—and money.”

I turn to the pack, voice hard. “If any of you see Waylon on McKinley land after sunrise, you have my permission to treat him as rogue. And if I find out any of you are helping him, you’ll answer to me.”

No one protests. Some look relieved; a few look terrified. I stare them all down, feeling the weight of my father’s legacy settling on my shoulders, heavy and unyielding. But this is my pack now, for better or worse.

I run a hand down my chest, feeling the sting of claw marks and bruises that will bloom by morning.

It should hurt more. Maybe it will, once the adrenaline fades.

Right now, the only thing I feel is the pull toward Elena—toward home.

When the last of the pack disperses, I head toward the edge of the stones, phone already in hand.

I dial Hudson, waiting as the line rings. He picks up, voice gruff with worry.

“Luke?”

“It’s done. I won. Waylon’s out. But he’s been working with the syndicate. He’s the reason Elena was targeted. I need you to watch her—her and the baby. If anything happens to me, you look after them. That’s not a request.”

Hudson’s voice is tight. “You think he’ll come for her?”

“He’s got nothing left to lose, and nothing to keep him in check. He’s desperate and wounded, and that’s when he’s most dangerous.”

Hudson’s silence is answer enough. Finally, he says, “I’ll keep them safe. I promise.”

I end the call and look up at the moon. My blood still hums with the fight, the victory, the knowledge that nothing will ever be simple again. But I have claimed what’s mine. The pack is secure for now. Elena and the baby—my family—are safe. But the price has yet to be paid, and dawn will come.

And as the wind turns colder, some part of me keeps warning that what I’ve won tonight is only the beginning—that the real danger is still out there, closing in, and deep down, I know—the fight for the Hollow has just begun. And what’s coming next won’t be won in blood alone.