by Noah Harris
He was in the eye of the storm. Composed, collected, and focused. His rage swirled around him, just out of reach, ready if and when he needed it, but not clouding his thoughts.
He was Alpha, and he was getting his mate back.
He opened the door calmly, stepping out onto the roof with slow, calculated steps. He felt his whole body roll with them, a predator stalking its prey, knowing it was in danger but thriving on it. Each movement had the potential to be more, clearly holding back the strength and speed he possessed.
The first thing he was hit by was the wind, a slow roll, cold at its core and cooling off his heated skin. The second thing was their old pack scent, riding on the wind, strong and achingly familiar, but no longer bringing with it a sense of contentment. The third thing he was hit by was the sight of his old pack postured against them.
The roof of the building was huge, flat, and open. The stairwell let them out on one side, and their pack was waiting for them halfway across the roof. Adam stalked forward, muscles coiling and tensing, rolling beneath his skin. It felt too tight with the wolf pacing just below the surface. He could feel the presence of Karen, Tom, and Ben at his back, fanning out behind him. They stopped several yards away from the other group.
It wasn’t their whole pack, for which Adam was thankful for, but they were still greatly outnumbered.
They spread out in an arch, some of them standing and some crouched. Their auras and scents bled with their outrage, aggressively intent, loud and clear. He saw Levi and Neil, Lily and Alice. They weren’t surprising, seeing as they were some of the biggest instigators of the whole ordeal. He saw others, too, all alphas from his former pack, all posturing and pulsing with adrenaline and anticipation. He’d seen them all at the club and at the pack house. He’d played with some of their kids, and he’d helped a few fix up their cars. He’d laughed with them and mourned with them. He’d led them. And now they stood against him.
Millie stood at the center of it all, tall and proud. Her hair whipped in the wind behind her. She pulsed the strongest, her scent bleeding out over them in a way that was almost possessive. She was telling him silently, and in a way that was crystal clear, that they were her pack now. She was Alpha. She had done it. She had managed to use the whole situation to finally usurp him, to claw her way to the top despite being a woman.
In another life, he might have been proud of her for achieving that. Years ago, when they had sat on this very roof and watched the sunset sky bleed, when she had told him of her dreams to become the first female Alpha, he’d admired her strength and determination. He knew about facing adversary with a conventionally-minded pack, and her success should have been celebrated.
He only wished her rise hadn’t come at the cost of his fall.
Josh was at Millie’s feet, on his knees with his hands bound behind his back and a gag tied around his mouth.
He looked up at Adam’s approach, hair flying wild and eyes wide and fearful, even as his body sagged from relief.
A snarl rip from Adam’s throat as his inner wolf clawed at his skin at the sight of his mate prone at the feet of his enemy. They stood still and stared as the seconds ticked by, counted by the beat of his heart. No one moved. Wind tugged innocently at hair and clothes, but their bodies were immobile. Adam kept his eyes on Millie, and she held his gaze steadily.
Finally, slowly, her lips curled into a small, amused smirk. “Adam,” she said, far too kind, far too polite—the sharp edge of a blade. She held her arms out wide in a mockery of welcome. “So nice of you to join us.”
“Millie,” he said, voice coiling with underlying threat.
She cocked her head, smirk in place. “What? Not one for small talk? But Adam, dear, we used to talk here all the time.”
“In another lifetime.”
“So it seems.” Her smirk finally fell, her arms crossing over her chest. She scanned over the three behind him. “I see you brought some of our traitors with you.”
“It’s not a crime to leave the pack.”
“No, but it is to harbor a criminal.”
“Is that what I am now?” His voice was dry and bitter.
“Your crimes are clear. You know what you’ve done, and you know why it’s an offense to the pack.”
“I don’t see how falling in love—”
“It’s not about love,” she said, snarling. “Our kind operates by its own laws. You know that. Our laws are based on loyalty and tradition.”
“Tradition, like having a female Alpha?” he snapped, knowing his shot was cheap.
Her eyes narrowed. “Times are changing, and we must change with them. Perhaps, in time, we might have come to accept him as your mate. But not as Alpha. You should have stepped down if he were your choice. But you know this is more than that. This is about who you chose. You chose a member of the New Moon Pack. The very pack that murdered our last Alpha.” She spat the words, pausing as his former pack—her pack—began to shift restlessly, growling under their breath. “You chose one of them, and then you were going to break him into our pack.”
“He chose us over them!”
“He might be a spy!”
“He’s not a spy!”
“You don’t know that, and neither do we. And we can’t be sure. By laws of our people, we would be full within our rights to execute him.”
Adam sucked in a breath, jaw clenched tight as he glared. “If you hurt him—”
“We can’t even be sure we can trust you,” she continued, speaking over him.
“Millie...” He tried sounding reproachful. He took a step forward but froze when all of them growled. It was a deep and primal chorus, barely human. They were just as close to the shift as he was. He kept his eyes on Millie. “You know me. You know I wouldn’t betray the pack.”
She looked him over for a long moment, lifting her chin and saying coldly, “I used to know you, Adam. Now, I don’t know what I know.” She threw her arms out to indicate the others, raising her voice. “The pack has decided. If you want to remain with us, not as Alpha but with us, you must prove your loyalty.” She lifted a foot, putting it on Josh’s back and shoving until he fell forward with a soft, muffled yelp.
Adam snarled, taking a step forward. He could hear the shuffle of his friends behind him, moving forward, growls in their throats. The scent on the roof smelled of wolf. “Don’t touch him!”
“You,” she shouted, “are in no position to be making orders. I am Alpha now. You may prove your loyalty and execute him. Or you can die with him. Choose.”
Adam held her gaze for a long moment, seeing barely a shadow of the woman he used to know. His gaze roamed over the other alphas, seeing nothing but ghosts. Familiar faces were twisted into something unfamiliar and monstrous. He looked behind him, meeting the eyes of his friends, seeing the way they stood strong and ready, hands out at their sides and fingers coiled like claws.
Then he saw Josh, sprawled out on the ground and head tilted so he could look at Adam. There was fear there. Fear and hope, and a spark of outrage that mirrored his own. He could see the rage in his body, the tension beneath Millie’s foot. He saw the determined fire, embers burning in the depths of his eyes.
His omega was submissive. His omega was quiet and shy. His omega was awkward and stuttered when nervous and had a small smile for everyone. But his omega was not weak. That kind of unrelenting kindness took strength.
He was afraid, but he was not weak.
Adam’s gazed back up at Millie.
“Choose,” she repeated.
“You are not my Alpha,” he said, voice sounding guttural and inhuman. He took a step back, turning sideways as he crouched low, arms held out at his sides and fingers curled. He bared his teeth. “You are not my pack.”
She mirrored his stance, falling into it gracefully and slowly, body moving with predatory rolls. “So be it,” she said softly, yet her words carried on the wind.
Time seemed to slow. His senses heightened, making him extremely aware of ev
erything. He smelled everything, heard everything, saw everything. He could feel the clothes against his skin and the brush of the breeze. He could taste the air with startling clarity.
Seconds slowed to minutes in this awareness, moments lengthened into hours. There was the shift of feet against the gravel on the rooftop. There was the harsh hiss of breathing between clenched teeth, the soft snarls, and the rumbling growls. The air was thick and heavy with their scents. The adrenaline, fear, rage, and anticipation of a fight were suffocating. Alpha pheromones drifted on the wind, no doubt carrying out across the city. Anyone with heightened senses would know there was a werewolf fight going down.
He felt the ripple beneath his skin, his inner wolf pacing and posturing. His hackles were raised, hair standing on end. He could feel his muscles bulging, bones creaking as they itched to crack and reform.
Time stretched, pulled taut like a rubber band, tighter and tighter, stretching until the strain was too far wound and threatened to snap. When it reached the point where it couldn’t stretch any further, they all froze. It was an unspoken moment. Everyone acted in unison, freezing and stilling, barely daring to breathe. Bodies were suspended in motion, muscles wound and ready to release.
A breath passed. Then two.
Adam’s eyes were on Millie, sharp and alert, and hers were on him.
He wasn’t sure who moved first. It could have been the shifting of Millie’s weight or the tilting of her head. It could have been the curling of Adam’s fist or it could have been how he bent his knees.
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The moment shattered all at once, the tension snapping dynamically and tangibly. Everyone, one moment suspended in time, was suddenly moving all at once, together, springing forward as the tension released, propelling them forward.
Adam and Millie moved first, but the others were only seconds behind.
They met in the middle, clashing at full force. While their speed was no doubt similar, his weight was more. He tackled her to the roof, and she clawed at his face as she went down. She didn’t stay down. As soon as they hit, she was thrashing, rolling them over. It was all limbs and nails, fists against flesh. They sprung apart, landing on toes and hands, snarling at each other.
He felt the shift take root at the same time he saw it spark in her eyes, a yellow sheen flashing in her otherwise perfectly-blue eyes.
He barely had time to rip off his clothes. Time and practice were the only thing that enabled him to get them off in time, but even then, he ripped several seams.
The change took him quickly. The wolf had been too close to the surface for too long. The adrenaline coursing through his veins combined with the thrill of the fight, the thirst for blood, was too much. It tipped him over the edge. His back arched, head thrashing as he grit his teeth, biting back the pain as his bones popped.
The wash of pain was immense, the feeling of his muscles and bones and body shifting outside the full moon always was. But the release was the same. The relief and endorphins that surged through his bloodstream as the change completed made him feel invincible, made him feel strong and fearless. He was drunk on it, intoxicated by power and driven by the desire to protect his own and rip apart any who dared to get in his way.
He was Alpha.
He was wolf.
He snapped his head up, lips curled in a toothy snarl. He was big for a wolf, and he knew it. Alpha ran through his veins. His fur was rich mahogany, eyes the same stormy gray they were in his human form. His hair stood on end, rippling down his back as he pawed the ground.
Millie shifted just as quickly as he had. She was smaller, as females often were, but made up for in speed, agility, and cunning. He had seen her fight for dominance on many full moons. She easily dominated other alpha females, and he knew she could take down most alpha males. He wouldn’t do her the disservice of underestimating her.
Her fur was light in color, eyes a dazzling blue. She was just as beautiful in this form as the other. She mirrored his stance, and the two of them paced. Around them, he could hear his howls as the others shifted as well, smelled the wolves on the wind. He kept his eyes on Millie, knowing that the others wouldn’t interfere with the fighting Alphas. His friends were on their own, but he trusted them to stand their ground.
They clashed again, teeth and claws. Adam was stronger, and he was quick, but Millie was faster. She knew if she was pinned she would lose, so she never stayed still for long. They dove together, clawed until they pushed apart. They circled, catching their breath, snarling and growling, before coming together again. She tackled him from the side and knocked him over, but he got his powerful legs up and thrashed at her underside until she leapt away.
He managed to force her onto her back and get his teeth around her neck, but she didn’t still. She continue to thrash, sharp nails digging into his underbelly until he used his weight to help hold her down. Anyone else would have submitted in her place. She didn’t. She was too much of a spitfire, too close to achieving her dream to be shut down now. She struggled until the bitter taste of blood hit his tongue. He tightened his grip, showing her that he meant it.
A whine of pain escaped her, and she stilled. He held her for a moment more before relaxing his grip.
She was in motion the moment he let his guard down, twisting her body out of his grip and knocking his legs out from under him in her scramble to get away. She backed up, regrouping, circling, unconcerned by the blood soaking the fur at her neck.
There were sounds of a fight all around them. He saw flashes of fur and teeth. The night was growing dark, the horizon marred with crimson, but they could see easily in the shadows. He heard the snarls of the others, heard the yelps and whimpers. Yet he and Millie existed in a bubble of their own, untouched and unworried about those around them. Neither of them could turn their attention to their surroundings or else risk an attack from the other.
Then they charged each other again, and again, and again.
Time lost all meaning. Time was told in the darkening of the sky. Time was counted in heartbeats. Time was found in the increasing raggedness of his breath. Time passed with each wound he got, every drop of blood spilled, every ache in his muscles, and every wince of pain.
Time had no consequence. It was simply a matter of whose body would fail them first. Each wound, each harsh breath, was a step toward the end, both of them fighting to be the last one standing. They were both weakening, and they knew it. But they were both stubborn, and they both had their reasons to keep fighting. Neither would give in, and as time wore on, the knowledge that one of them might not make it out alive settled like a weight into his heart.
Acceptance. His death or Millie’s. They were Alpha. Both of them. Neither would give up. It was too late for that.
His back leg hurt where she had sunk her teeth in deep, but she had a front leg out of commission for much the same reason. His underbelly was soaked with blood from numerous scrapes, and the back of his neck ached where she had jumped onto his back and latched on with a tight jaw. He had gotten her good in the side, though, and she was constantly keeping that side away from him.
As they circled, Adam became aware of the fact that the rest of the fighting had ceased. The others prowled nearby, keeping segregated to their groups but following along with the Alpha’s fight at a distance, eyes trained, teeth bared, blood running hot.
This time, it was Millie who charged first. He stood his ground, waiting for her to get close. He crouched low, and she leapt. He dodged to the side at the last minute, digging his paws in and leaping after her injured side. She saw it coming, immediately spinning and leaping back and away as his teeth came down on open air.
She leapt at him again before he could pull back or shift his weight to dodge. So instead, he dropped, rolling onto his back. He was intent on clawing at her stomach as she landed on him, using her momentum and prone position in the air against her. She realized what he was going to do too late.
As soon as she landed on him, she crou
ched and sprung away at the same time he lashed out and spun, effectively throwing her off of him as she jumped.
Neither of them realized how close to the edge they were.
She hit the waist-high wall that served as a barrier at the edges of the roof. She yelped as her injured side hit it, and Adam turned in time to see her claws scramble as her momentum slid her across. Time slowed again, adrenaline and a sudden burst of fear in his heart letting him see every agonizing detail as she scrambled to stop herself, as her back legs went over the edge before she stopped, as her eyes widened in fear, tongue lolling as she panted. Every movement cause her to inch closer to the edge.
The realization hit him slowly, surfacing through the darkness with absolute truth and settling into his bones with a strange sense of detached numbness.
She was going to fall.
She must have realized this, too, because she squeezed her eyes shut and forced the shift. It was a bad position to shift in, with her body already in such a precarious place, but she had no choice. If she didn’t, she would fall. So she forced herself to tense, tried not to move as her body rippled back into its human form. She gritted against the pain as it slammed through her body, knowing this time it would have no pleasure of release.
He felt his body start to shift, too. As if watching her shift back to human forced it in himself, taking over while his mind could do nothing but watch numbly. He fell to his knees as he shifted, clenching his jaw against the pain but refusing to bow his head, refusing to look away from her.
It turned out, it didn’t matter what form she was in. As soon as her change was complete, her body relaxed instinctively, just a fraction, just an inch. It was enough to make her lose her tense grip. He watched her eyes widen and her mouth fall open in a silent scream. He watched as she went over the edge.
He was in motion before he even remembered moving, reflexes and speed made quicker by the high of their fight. His mind didn’t catch up to his body until he was bent over the half wall, his hand latched around Millie’s wrist.
She jerked to a stop, nearly falling out of his grip. He clenched his teeth as his body was roughly jerked against the concrete ledge but locked himself around it as an anchor. He threw his other arm over the edge, holding onto her arm with both hands, grip strong and tight as his fingers dug into the softness of her flesh.