Page 63 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)

Zak

Without hesitation, we all followed Rowan from the throne room, tearing through the pack house with single-minded determination. The scents of battle, blood, magic, and fear hung in the air, but beneath it all was a distinctive masculine scent that made my packmates’ fur bristle with recognition.

Heath’s father. The traitor who’d sold out his own kind to witches.

Rowan led us through winding corridors, past signs of hasty departure — overturned furniture, scattered papers, a dropped pendant that reeked of witch magic. The trail led us outside, where it faded to my nostrils, but not to Rowan’s keen snout. He led us to the alpha residence.

When Gage realized Dryden had been holed up in his family’s old home he growled, “That fucker.”

“Should we shift back?” Flint asked as Rowan led us through the front door, which stood ajar.

“Dryden’s disrespected this house just by setting foot in it,” Gage growled. “Don’t worry about your pawprints.”

Rowan paused outside a partially open door where the scent was strongest. Gage called for caution as we approached. I hung back slightly, still unaccustomed to the pack’s hunting style, but ready to provide support if needed.

Rowan pushed the door open with his snout, revealing what had been someone’s personal quarters. The room had been ransacked, bed disheveled and furniture overturned. But Dryden himself was gone.

“Damn it.” Gage snapped the leg of a fallen chair in his jaws. “He cleared out.”

Rowan prowled the room, his movements predatory as he examined the empty space. “Not long ago,” he noted. “The scent is fresh.”

I was about to suggest we continue our search when a soft sound from an adjoining room caught my attention. My wolf’s hearing picked up the subtle rustle of fabric.

“Someone’s here,” I warned quietly.

“I know that scent,” Rowan growled.

Flint got there first, crossing to another door that was already ajar. He slipped through, his large alpha body forcing the door open wider to reveal what appeared to be a sitting room. And there, bound to a chair with ropes cutting into his wrists, was a familiar face — Tork.

Heath’s former lover looked terrible — bruised, bloodied, and clearly left behind as a sacrifice to slow us down. But despite his condition, his eyes held defiance as he looked at us.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice hoarse but still carrying that smug undertone I remembered from our brief encounter at Frost Fang. “The cavalry arrives, but too late as usual.”

Gage’s reaction was immediate and visceral — a growl tore from his throat as he stalked forward, his intent clear in every line of his body. After what Tork had done, Gage meant to end him.

“Wait.” Flint’s voice cut through the tension. “It would be dishonorable to kill him like this, bound and helpless.”

Gage paused, conflict evident in his expression.

Through our bond, I felt his struggle — the alpha’s need for justice warring with his deeply ingrained sense of honor.

I understood his hesitance all too well.

I’d only seen Tork once before, when he was busy stirring up trouble during the pack meeting.

He’d been trouble then, and then Heath had gone silent after shouting Tork’s name down the Bonded link.

He was the cause of what had happened to Heath, I felt sure of it.

All because he felt spurned when Heath chose Freya and the pack over Tork?

Rowan solved our dilemma by shifting back.

I felt everyone’s surprise through the bond until he reached into his sling bag to pull out a knife.

With swift, brutal motions, he slashed the ropes binding Tork, not bothering to get dressed first. Tork stumbled to his feet, rubbing his wrists as he eyed us warily.

“There,” Rowan said coldly. “Now he can die with dignity.”

Gage stepped forward with a growl, and Tork stumbled back, eyes wide.

Something about this still felt wrong to me, though.

I didn’t disagree that he deserved what was coming to him for betraying his own kind.

Plus, he’d betrayed Heath, his own former lover, and my packmate, my friend, my future mate.

My wolf, so recently freed from his own prison, howled with the need for retribution, and everyone paused at the sound. Before I fully realized what I was doing, I stepped between Gage and Tork.

“Let me,” I said across the bond.

Surprise rippled through our bond, but I kept my eyes on Tork, who was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and contempt.

I hoped Heath wouldn’t mind me offering myself as his champion in his place.

After all, he was still too weak from the cursed stone’s effects.

Even if he could fight, having a dominant alpha battle a subordinate beta would only fuel the anti-alpha sentiment that had torn Frost Fang apart in the first place.

“I’m a beta and so is he,” I pointed out to Gage. “A fair fight.”

Still in his human form, Rowan was the one to clue in Tork. “Our beta, Zak, challenges you to combat.”

Somehow the way he said ‘our’ beta made shivers run down my spine. Something to puzzle over another time. Having delivered the only message that mattered, Rowan shifted back into his wolf form. Even my own wolf gave a chuff of relief, as though he preferred us united in this form.

“The pet mage wants to play?” Tork taunted, staring down at me as he pulled his shirt over his head. “You’re not even a full-blooded wolf. ”

“Zak… you don’t have to do this,” Freya pleaded. “He’s shifted for years. He knows how to move, how to fight.”

I rubbed my flank along hers, reassuring her without words. Through our bond, I felt Heath’s distant awareness of what was happening, his mixture of alarm and gratitude washing over me.

Gage studied me for a long moment, then stepped back, though I could feel his reluctance to cede the kill.

“He’s all yours,” he said. “Remember what we taught you.”

I turned to face Tork fully, my body remembering the brief lessons Heath and Gage had given me on wolf combat.

Having only shifted a handful of times before today, I had little practice fighting as a wolf.

But my determination burned hot and bright.

Tork deserved to pay for what he’d put Heath and the other Frost Fang wolves through.

“You’re going to regret this,” Tork warned, dropping his pants and stepping out of his clothing. His injuries were minor and gave him no trouble as he shifted.

My gray fur bristled with challenge as the other beta stood nose to nose with me.

He circled me cautiously, looking for weaknesses.

Through our bond, I felt Freya’s concern, Gage’s tense anticipation, Rowan and Flint’s readiness to intervene if necessary.

Tork wouldn’t leave here alive, a thought that pleased me.

Tork struck first, lunging for my throat with practiced precision. I barely dodged, his teeth grazing my shoulder instead. Pain flared, but I used the momentum to turn and snap at his flank. My teeth caught flesh.

We separated, both coming away bloody, circling again. The metallic taste on my tongue satisfied something primal in me while simultaneously making me want more. My wolf growled with pleasure, but I knew better than to get overconfident. Tork was dangerous, a beta with years of experience I lacked.

He feinted left, then darted right, faster than I expected. His jaws clamped around my foreleg, teeth sinking deep. I yelped in pain, trying to shake him off, but he twisted his head to try to cripple me.

Desperation surged through me. I twisted, using my slightly larger size to slam him against the wall. The impact forced him to release my leg, and I pressed my advantage, driving him backward .

But Tork was crafty. He slipped under my guard, teeth finding my throat in a move that could have ended me if I hadn’t jerked away at the last second. Still, his fangs tore a gash across my neck, and blood flowed hot and fast over my fur.

The world swam before my eyes. I staggered, suddenly aware that I might lose this fight. Tork sensed it too — his brown wolf crouched, ready for the killing lunge.

Then I felt it — a surge of power flowing through our Bonded link. Freya was pulling on her mates’ wolves, channeling their strength into me. The sensation was indescribable — like being filled with molten energy, every cell in my body suddenly vibrating with power.

“She’s healing him,” Flint whispered through the bond in awe.

“Thanks for lending your strength,” Freya murmured, her eyes fixed on my throat.

My wounds knitted together at an impossible speed. She even soothed away my witchfire burns from the earlier fight.

Tork’s eyes widened in shock as I straightened, my injured leg now bearing weight, the gash on my throat sealing shut.

I didn’t give him time to recover from his surprise. I lunged, my renewed strength carrying me forward with devastating force. My jaws closed around his throat, and this time, I didn’t let go. Shaking my head back and forth, my fangs tore into the soft flesh of his throat.

This wolf had betrayed his own kind, leading to the suffering and death of countless Frost Fang wolves.

He’d betrayed Heath, his former lover, to the witches.

He’d blamed the Howling Echo for ‘ruining’ Moonblessed, Ironwood, and Frost Fang, all while stirring up dissent himself among the Frost Fang pack.

And he’d betrayed Freya, trying to turn her over to Ironwood.

I never would have met her or any of them if he’d succeeded.

“He’s dead,” Rowan’s harsh voice brought me back to myself.

Flint headbutted me. “You can let go now.”

“You did well, little beta,” Gage said, towering over me and licking the blood off my face.

My wolf basked in their pride while my human side melted into a puddle at his praise.