Page 37 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)

THIRTY-SEVEN

AVA

A va’s breath came in short bursts, the acrid tang of sweat and blood still clinging to her skin.

The moon was just a sliver overhead, but court guards lit the courtyard with flickering torches.

Bodies lay motionless in the weak light—some shifters, some Sons.

Rain from earlier left the stones slick, reflecting every figure in the space between chaos and calm.

She forced herself not to look at the bound shape of Roman, slumped in his chains, muscles still twitching with spite even in defeat.

Silas was nearby, quieter now, his wolf-scent soft in the air, eyes constantly scanning. He glanced at her once with something heavy in his gaze but said nothing. Ava swallowed, letting the damp air soothe her lungs.

“Commander Monroe,” a voice said from the shadows near the carriage where Roman had been secured. A tall figure stepped forward in PEACE-issued black tactical gear. Lieutenant Jenson––official liaison, official wolf in the fold. Maybe.

She tensed, jaw tight. Jenson’s eyes gleamed under the hood. “We’re ready to move him.”

“You’re not moving him,” Ava said, stepping forward. Her voice sounded louder than she’d intended. “He stays here until trial.”

Jenson shrugged. “He’s wounded. Can’t stay in the open. We’re transporting him to secure holding—protocol, Commander.”

Commander. The title felt odd in her mouth. She raised her chin. “No.”

He spaced himself neatly, positions. “This is land your Alpha King gave me. He asked me to handle the transfer tonight. You wouldn’t want to cross Landon Graves.”

Her stomach twisted. “He didn’t ask you.”

Jenson hesitated, blinking once under the torchlight. “He did. You weren’t there.”

“Neither was he.” She said it slowly, certain. “He stayed to oversee Roman’s chains. He wants answers before he moves him.”

Jenson’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll do this quietly.”

Ava stepped closer, hands clenching at her sides. “You’re freeing a war criminal under the guise of security.”

“Look, I’m not your enemy.” He smirked, lifting his palms. “Just following orders.”

She reached inside her jacket at her hip for her blade. “Not my concern. I don’t see orders here. Just a plan to ruin any chance at justice.”

He scoffed. “Justice don’t matter if he’s out.”

Silence pressed in, only torch flames dancing between them.

“We’re sovereign,” Jenson hissed. “PEACE owns this mission. Graves has to play politics.”

Ava met his eyes, storm green and hell-bent. “Not my problem. If you touch Roman, you cross a line. I will stop you.”

He laughed low. Do you want to fight me, human? The threat hovered. This wasn’t a rogue King. This was PEACE security—guns, protocol, backup.

But she did want to fight. Wanted to show him.

She pivoted, fists up. He lunged, flashy knife in hand. Ava ducked under his arm and struck his wrist with a slash. Flesh sizzled as he hissed, dropped the blade, stumbled back.

Torchlight reflected off his uniform, splashing across the stone. He lunged again, charging, advantage swift.

Ava sidestepped. She jabbed an elbow to his ribs, then a sweep to knock him down. Hard. He hit stones, knees splintered. He groaned, face twisting with rage and surprise.

Ava straddled him, blade pressed to his throat. He choked, eyes wide.

“Why?” she demanded. “Why free him?”

He coughed. “People need their gossip. Fear’s a tool.”

Ava tightened her grip. “Don’t lecture me.” She pressed harder. “You get in my way, I drop you.”

He shook free a little, lashes wet. “You don’t get it. I’ve done more than you ever will.”

She let the blade fall across his cheek letting blood spill. “What have you done?” she asked low.

He stared at her. “You’ve earned this.” He spat. “He’s staying.”

Ava stood slowly, wiping blood from her lip with the back of her hand. “And don’t you forget.”

She kicked him toward the carriage. “Sit. Wait. Don’t even think about running.”

He stared at her, jaw tight, too quiet. Too still. And then she saw it.

The flick of his eyes. The shift in his spine.

He moved fast—bones cracking, skin ripping—fur tearing through muscle as his jaw elongated into something feral and snarling. His claws exploded from his fingers mid-lunge.

Ava reacted on instinct. She dropped low and pulled the blade still smeared with dried blood and truth. She let the motion carry through her arm in one clean arc.

Steel met flesh.

The wolf never landed the strike.

He collapsed mid-shift, a wet gurgle escaping his throat as he thrashed in the dirt, eyes wide with betrayal, foam laced with red spilling from his mouth.

Ava dropped to one knee, breath ragged, arm slick with his blood. Her grip trembled around the hilt.

Silas came skidding across the courtyard, breath loud in the hush, his wolf eyes flaring in the dark.

“Ava!” he barked.

She didn’t look away from the body as it stopped twitching. “He was going to kill me.”

Silas crouched beside her, hands gentle, searching her for wounds. “What happened?”

“He was Roman’s. Tried to shift. Said just enough to make it clear,” she rasped. “I didn’t hesitate.”

Silas growled low, a sound that shook her bones. “You did what you had to.”

She nodded, eyes burning but dry. “Get Landon. Get PEACE. This needs to be seen, not just heard.”

“I’ll go,” Silas said, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. “Stay here. Don’t let anyone touch him until I get back.”

She stood slowly, still gripping the blade. “I won’t.”

And as Silas disappeared into the dark toward the court hall, she stared down at the dead man who’d underestimated her.

This was her war too and she wasn’t done yet.

Landon and the liaison came quickly as Ava gave a rundown of what happened. They told her they will debrief again in detail later as they grabbed the man and Landon ordered Caz to take Roman.

Silas and Ava walked forward together, past bodies and weapons and flickering light as he led her to get a well deserved drink. Their steps fell in sync again, that old rhythm.

Water pooled underfoot. Rain was coming.

Silas whispered, “You’re vital.”

She blinked. His gaze was locked. “I am?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “Without you tonight—we lost him.”

She scoffed. “I’m not a hero.”

“No, but then again, right now, you are.”

She touched his face softly, fingers brushing wet cheek. He leaned in.

And she let him kiss her hard, refusing to pull away.

Under torchlight, they held each other while the court cleaned the mess. Justice wasn’t over. But they fought to make sure it was real.