The Werewolf Academy Series Boxed Set

by Cheree Alsop

  “Let her go!” Alex yelled.

  “Quiet,” Drogan growled. “Your professors will hear you.” He paused, then said, “Or will they?”

  “What do you mean?” Fear sent ice through Alex’s veins. He willed the Demon to take over. Blue tinted his vision.

  “Do it and she dies,” Drogan said in a voice that left no doubt he would follow through with his threat. “You evacuated the Academy. Smart.” His eyes narrowed. “Smarter would have been to disappear. You knew I wouldn’t give up, Alex, yet you stick around. Why can’t you just die?”

  Alex stood slowly with his hands up to show that he held no weapons. A glance behind him revealed two Demons hulking near the hallway where the rest of his pack slept. The werewolves had been exhausted after the full moon run; Alex doubted any of them had awoken yet. If the Demons went on a rampage, everyone would die. “Then kill me, Drogan. Kill me and let Siale go. You don’t have to hurt anyone else.”

  Drogan’s mouth twisted in a smile that scared Alex more than any glare.

  “If only it was that easy,” the Extremist said. He motioned with his bladed hand. “Let’s move.”

  To Alex’s dismay, Drogan pushed the hidden panel with his shoulder and slid it to the side to reveal the tunnel. Alex had no choice but to walk in front of Drogan and one of his Demons down the walkway. The fact that the other Demon stayed in his quarters wasn’t lost on him.

  “I’m the one you want,” Alex said. “You don’t need to hurt anyone else.”

  Drogan’s silence followed him down. His brother’s demeanor terrified him. Usually, Drogan was prone to talking about how much he hated Alex and wanted to kill him. The silent, impassive Extremist was another story.

  Drogan paused near the entrance to the Wolf Den. The door was shut. Drogan didn’t bother to push the panel.

  “Let us in,” he growled.

  The door slid open.

  Alex’s chest tightened at the sight of all of the professors standing below Brock’s station with four of Drogan’s Demons guarding them. Tears escaped down Meredith’s cheeks when he met his mother’s gaze. The professors looked the worse for the wear, bruised and bleeding. Chet sat on the floor with blood on his shirt while Grace applied pressure to a wound on Kaynan’s back. Dray tried to smile at Alex, but the combat professor’s lips twisted into a grimace when Gem tightened the bandage on his arm.

  Alex paused at the sight of Jaze chained to a chair in the middle of Brock’s command center. There was a poorly-tied bandage around the dean’s forehead and dried blood showed at the corner of his mouth. Little William sat on the floor at his father’s feet with baby Vicki sleeping in his lap. The usually calm and hungry Brock sat at his computers, his face pale and gaze worried.

  “How did this happen?” Alex asked quietly.

  Drogan glanced back at him. “Unlucky for you, werewolves are slaves to the full moon. After gaining access to the Academy, all we had to do was wait it out until everyone returned exhausted and fell asleep. A few put up a fight, but my Demons convinced them it wasn’t a good idea. You’re lucky I didn’t just kill them all in their beds.”

  Alex felt the gaze of every person and Demon in the room on him as he followed Drogan and Siale to the stairs.

  “Why didn’t you?” Alex forced himself to ask.

  Drogan didn’t answer.

  Alex tried another question. “How did you get inside the walls?”

  Drogan looked up the stairs. Alex followed his gaze to Brock.

  Alex shook his head. “There’s no way. Brock would never betray Jaze.”

  Brock hung his head, unable to meet Alex’s gaze.

  Drogan merely replied, “It helps to have the right leverage.”

  Brock turned away from Alex and touched his fingers to the screen on his right. Alex’s heart fell at the sight of Jennifer Stauffer, the girl Brock had taken to dinner in Greyton City, bound and gagged. A man in a mask stood behind her chair with a knife to her throat. Tears and a bruise on the woman’s cheek were enough to set Alex’s teeth on edge.

  “You’re going to pay, Drogan,” Alex growled.

  Drogan’s mismatched eyes met Alex’s. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he replied. “I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”

  Alex had reached the end of his frayed patience. “Every second of what?” he demanded, his voice rising. “What can you possibly want? Money? Fear? Power? There’s nothing you can gain by taking over an Academy the world already knows about!”

  Drogan shoved Siale to a sitting position on the stairs. When she tried to move, the tip of his bladed hand was enough to still her attempt.

  “After all this time, I thought we understood each other,” Drogan said, his voice casual while his eyes held Alex like shards of green and blue ice. “I don’t want money, power, or fear.”

  With four Demons guarding the professors, another in his pack quarters, two more at the door, and another unaccounted for, Alex couldn’t think of a way to gain the upper hand. The scent that flowed from his brother revealed the insanity in the Extremist’s actions. Alex had no doubt whatever Drogan’s goals were, his brother intended to carry them out completely.

  Alex’s voice was quiet when he asked the question, “Then what do you want?”

  Drogan grabbed Siale’s arm and pressed his blade to it. She winced. Alex took a step forward, but the Demon closest to his mother put his claws around her neck. Alex froze.

  Drogan drew his blade down Siale’s arm. The skin parted in a line of red. Drogan watched the blood pool. “The only thing I want is for you to suffer, Alex,” he said, his voice calm. “I don’t care about anything else other than making sure that my brother takes his last remaining breaths with the utmost pain possible.” His voice darkened. “The world can rot for all I care. You took everything from me; now I get to make you suffer until you take your last breath at the point of this blade.”

  “Then do it!” Alex commanded. He held out his arms, willing Drogan to carve them instead of his love’s. He couldn’t take the sight of her in pain steps away from him and him unable to do anything about it. It was the worst form of torture he could think of. “Take your vengeance out on me. I’m here, right now, standing in front of you.” His voice tightened with hopeless frustration when he concluded, “Take me instead. Please.”

  Drogan paused, his blade still in Siale’s arm. Tears trickled down her cheeks and her lips trembled with the effort it took to stay silent. Alex wanted to hold her so badly his arms ached, but he didn’t dare take a step forward for fear that his mother would pay for his actions as well as his fiancé.

  “I will kill you,” Drogan said. Before Alex could feel any hope that his friends and family would be safe, the Extremist continued, “But first, I will knock you from the platform of glory you have built for yourself. The world worships you. I will make them fear and loath you. Your professors care about you; I will make them regret the day they ever let you set one foot in this Academy.” He met Alex’s gaze. “Your fiancé loves you? I will slice her to pieces in your name until she curses the day you pulled her from my pit.”

  Siale’s head jerked up.

  Drogan looked down at her with a cruel smile that darkened his gaze. “Oh, you thought I didn’t remember you?”

  Siale ducked her head.

  Drogan pulled the blade from her arm and used it to raise her face back up so that she would look at him. Red blood coated her chin.

  “I remember everything,” Drogan said, his voice soft and taunting. “I remember how your skin was like satin beneath my fingertips. I remember how you begged me to stop.”

  Alex’s hands tightened into fists.

  Siale tried to glance away, but Drogan grabbed her hair with his good hand, forcing her to look at him again.

  “I remember how much stronger you were than your mother,” Drogan continued. “I loved watching your pain, the way you tried to stay silent.” He tipped his head closer to her and whispered loudly, “But in the end, you cou
ldn’t.”

  Siale slammed her forehead against his face.

  Drogan cupped his nose as bright red blood flowed through his fingers. He laughed and dropped his hand. Red stained his lips and mouth when he said, “I should have remembered that, too.” He shook his head and glanced at Alex. “You have your hands full with this one, just like I did.”

  Alex took another step. Meredith cried out in pain. Guilt flooded Alex when he saw the deep claw marks along her shoulder from the Demon. Alex’s hands clenched and unclenched. He couldn’t win. If he tried to protect Siale, his mother got hurt. If he stood by and did nothing, everyone was in danger; Drogan had him hedged in on every side. It was a lose-lose situation no matter how he looked at it.

  The only thing he could think of was to distract the Extremist from his attention to Siale.

  “What are you going to do, kill me in front of the nation?” he asked.

  Drogan turned away from Alex’s fiancé and faced him again. “We’re going to have a wedding.”

  Alex watched him closely. “What do you mean?”

  Drogan gave a chilling smile. “The world loves you.” He looked down at Siale. “You two are the werewolf sweethearts who have captured the nation’s attention. Everyone wants to see true love between their Demon,” he twisted the word, “And the love of his life.” His smile deepened. “They’ll get their precious wedding and so much more when you decapitate the mayor of Greyton City in front of your beloved humans, and then give the order for my Demons to slaughter the rest of them like livestock.”

  “Drogan, you’re a sick, twisted monster,” Chet growled.

  “You can’t make Alex do that,” Meredith protested.

  Ice was coursing through Alex’s veins. “I won’t do it.”

  “You’ll do it,” Drogan replied. He tipped his head toward Jaze. “I have the leverage, and as we’ve seen with Brook, leverage truly is power.”

  “It’s Brock,” Brock muttered without taking his eyes off the screen showing Jennifer.

  Alex thought quickly. “If I’m going to have a wedding, I’ll need my family there and witnesses from the Academy. It’ll look strange otherwise.”

  Drogan nodded. “Of course. You’ll have your beloved professors, your mom, and your fiancé.” He ran his tongue across his lips when he looked at her. Siale shivered and stared at the floor. Drogan grinned as if he enjoyed her discomfort and continued, “Thanks to your careful planning, you’ll also have your sister and her fiancé there as well. However,” he looked up at Jaze. “If the prestigious Dean of the Werewolf Academy is absent after his wife’s not too distant death, I don’t think anyone will think twice. He is in mourning, and it isn’t too farfetched to believe a wedding is just too much to handle after such a loss.”

  Alex locked gazes with Jaze. The dean didn’t look surprised at Drogan’s words, but worry showed beneath the Alpha’s calm demeanor.

  “He needs to be there,” Alex protested. “He’s family and his presence will be just as important as the mayor’s.”

  Drogan shook his head. “Werewolves are pack creatures, Alex.” His lips tightened for the briefest moment. “I’ve gotten over that fact, thanks to you destroying anyone I even remotely considered part of my pack. Now, with infusions of human blood—”

  “Infusions?” Alex repeated.

  Drogan sighed as if Alex’s attempt to stall him in order to create a plan were mere annoyances. “Yes, Alex. Human blood has been highly effective in turning away the undesired effects of being a werewolf, like the control of the full moon. It was the perfect time to hit the Academy with pretty much everyone out of commission after the predictable run. The human blood has also thankfully wiped out any sympathies I might have toward the fact that we share the same bloodline, or at least half. Your other half is a little lacking.” He looked at Meredith meaningfully.

  Alex bristled. “Using humans for blood is disgusting. It’s something your father would have done.”

  “Our father,” Drogan reminded him, “Which gets me back to the discussion of packs. Werewolves will do anything to save their pack, and I know you well enough to understand that Jaze has been your Alpha from the day I sliced your adopted parents’ throats. If you don’t kill the mayor with all the world watching, I will slice his stomach with the same blade and watch him die in front of his children, then I’ll let you hear them scream when I do the same to them.” His gaze sharpened with his threat. “You will kill the mayor, sic my Demons on the crowd, and watch the acceptance you have been trying to build for werewolves fall down in blood and ashes at your feet. If you don’t, Jaze and his kids will die.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Alex fought back the urge to tug at the neck of his tuxedo. The cameras broadcasting the wedding to the nation were no doubt recording his every move. He glanced at Siale. She gave her father a weak smile. Red grinned proudly back at her while he fiddled with his cufflink for what had to be the twentieth time.

  Alex couldn’t see how beautiful Siale looked in the wedding dress Jericho’s mother had tailored for her. He wasn’t able to enjoy standing next to Cassie and Tennison as they all prepared to say their vows. Worst of all, he couldn’t look the mayor in the eyes while the man read from the book he held and smiled at the young couples in front of him with the innocence of someone who didn’t know he was about to die.

  “Stay calm, Alex,” Drogan said into his earpiece.

  Alex’s jaw tightened. Having Drogan in his head every step of the way made it worse because he knew the man’s bladed hand was inches away from Jaze. The fact that Drogan had placed the same blade he had used to kill Alex and Cassie’s parents on the stump of his arm was twisted enough to let them all know just how far the Extremist would go.

  The professors sat on the chairs below pretending to enjoy the wedding while waiting for the inevitable to take place. Only Brock, Drogan, Jaze and the children remained at the Academy. Trent and Terith sat side by side, both siblings looking as though they were about to be sick. Alex wished it was Trent’s voice in his ear reminding him to be calm. It was all Alex could do to keep his composure. His whole world was about to implode no matter what he did.

  “My dad gave Jaze the same conundrum,” Drogan said, his voice irritatingly calm. “Jaze had the gall to let his own mother die to save the nation’s views of werewolves. Naming a school after her doesn’t exactly make things better, does it, Jaze?”

  Alex couldn’t hear the dean’s muffled reply, but Drogan laughed. “You can try to justify it, but you killed her. That’s what will happen to you if you fail, Alex. You’ll kill Jaze as surely as if you sliced his stomach yourself. His blood will be on your hands. Your mentor, your dean, your Alpha, will be dead because of you, and so will the kids. Don’t slip up, or you can add three bodies to the others hanging over your head.”

  Alex could see the hulking forms of the Demons hiding in the alley just beyond the courthouse. With William held at knifepoint, Jaze had been forced to tell the Black Team and the GPA to stand down. He denounced the wedding as not a threat, and told them their time would be better spent tracking down the Demons by following the false leads Drogan gave him. Alex felt the absence of the teams he trusted. He hadn’t realized how much he appreciated having them at his back until they were gone.

  “Your attention is wandering, Alex,” Drogan said. “I can just imagine how it will feel to slice the stomach of your newest little cousin. She’s awake now; should I see if she likes my new hand?”

  “Touch her and die,” Alex growled under his breath.

  The mayor paused. “Did you say something?” he asked politely.

  “Easy, Alex,” Drogan warned in his ear. “Be smart. I want you to kill him right after you say ‘I do’, not before. Step lightly or Jaze dies before you draw your next breath.”

  Alex forced a smile that felt more like a snarl on his lips. “Sorry, mayor. Something got caught in my throat.”

  “Of course,” the mayor replied with a warm smile. �
�I’ll continue.” He lifted his book and continued reading passages about love and life that rushed past the hum in Alex’s ears.

  He looked down the row of professors below him. They were his only hope, yet they were as tied as he. Drogan had made it perfectly clear that if a werewolf tipped off the mayor or police force in any way, Jaze and the children were dead. Drogan would also signal his Demons to attack the crowd and annihilate them regardless of what anyone did, so they would doubly lose.

  The expression of loss on all of their faces hit Alex hard with the realization that it was their Alpha on the line even more so than Alex’s. Jaze had been there for him in so many ways, yet they had grown up with the dean, survived incredible hardships with him, and followed him without question. The fact that they were now unable to stop their Alpha’s death if Alex slipped up showed in the frozen expressions and intense attention to the proceedings. Alex knew it wasn’t fair to expect them to step in. With Jaze’s life on the line, his pack would do all they could to save him.

  Alex’s gaze stopped on his mother. Meredith’s hands were knotted together in her lap and she looked pale in her beautiful light blue dress. She had cried on and off since Drogan made it to the Academy; now, there was a determined look on her face, her eyebrows pulled together and her jaw clenched as her gaze roamed restlessly across the beautifully decorated stage in the manicured grounds of the courthouse. Alex wished he could read her mind. He needed desperately for someone to tell him what to do. Every decision he made would mean someone’s death, and many people stood to suffer if Drogan’s plans were carried out.

  “Tell your sister to stop crying,” Drogan said. “A few tears are expected at a wedding, but if she keeps it up, she’s going to shed suspicion on the whole occasion.”

  Alex glanced at Cassie who stood across from him next to Siale. Though his sister’s face showed no expression other than a forced smile, tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “Cass, you’ve got to be strong,” he whispered while attempting to keep a smile on his face.