Gypsy Freak

Damien removes his longer coat that looks refined and elegant, but feels like a small oven when he puts it on me and takes Arion’s jacket for himself.

I don’t argue. The trade is much better, since my legs get a lot of wind blockage.

Vance glares at Arion, and I get worried they’re about to fight, but that’s when the wolves start pacing restlessly, both in fur and in flesh.

“Calm your fucking selves. You’re stirring them,” Damien says quietly.

“That’s not because of us,” Vance says, eyebrows furrowing as the salt around the barn starts flitting away in the wind, and all three of them sniff the air.

No one says anything as those barn doors push open, two wolves using their heads to do so.

“He’s going to say he killed enough and spared Ian if he’s bringing us here to see that,” Arion states with a very chilling tone.

But I lose interest in their words when I have to lock my knees in place to stay upright, my eyes glued to the gory scene ahead of me.

“Would you kill Shera or Isiah?” Damien asks.

“For this level of betrayal? Yes, I would. And I wouldn’t hesitate,” Arion grinds out somewhere over my head as I continue to gape at all the blood and death caused by me.

The wolves below all whimper and whine, and my stomach twists as tears fill up in my eyes.

Emit’s going to tell them. He’s going to tell them all I’m a monster. They’ll all hunt me after that.

“Fucking hell, he really did rip them to shreds,” Damien says under his breath when more light is shed, illuminating the barn in full.

The front row take a big step back from the entrance up ahead.

I turn quickly, burying my face in Damien’s chest, but he makes no move to hug me or shield me in any way.

“It isn’t enough. Ian orchestrated this. You know it, and I know it. He’s likely been itching to pull the trigger since before I even rose,” Arion snaps.

“If he says it’s enough, you’ll have no choice but to walk away. Just as they had to do when he said it was enough punishment for you,” Vance is arguing, even as he pulls me out of Damien’s arms, and drags me against his chest in an unusual show of affection.

Not allowing myself to fall into that trap again—the one where I think we’re friends—I turn back just as everything below us grows into a hushed silence.

My eyes dart over as naked Emit steps out of the barn, and behind him he drags two bodies too intact for me to have killed. He drops them as everyone remains silent.

“Things are about to change,” Emit says coldly.

“Those are the wolves I found for him. He found Ian before I could,” Vance says very quietly.

“It’s still not eno—”

Arion’s words cut off when Emit looks over at Ian. “Shift,” he bites out.

He gestures to two men just as Ian starts shaking, like he’s been somehow forced to comply with the order. They quickly cut away the bindings on his hands and feet, as his clothes begin shredding with the change.

The gag on his mouth snaps when his snout grows. Emit drops to the ground, fur bursting forth as he shifts like it’s as easy as pulling off a shirt. Normally, I’d be a little more awed. Right now, I feel like an angsty teenager.

It takes Ian longer, and it sounds more painful as he cries out in an animalistic tone.

The peanut gallery around me has stopped giving any commentary, so I have no idea what is going on.

“It’s been a while since there was a demonstration for these overly aggressive pups,” another man says from the ground far below, naked and casually lounging next to several other men, none of whom look old, but I’m not sure who’s what age around here.

“This looks like a good un’,” another says around a yawn. “That’s what they get for trying to put him under. Ian won’t make that mistake again now. Still, this is the maddest I’ve seen Alpha since the dark days.”

“An ass kicking to put the pups in line isn’t enough either,” Arion says before disappearing, talking over whatever the other man says in return.

I was already straining to hear, since they’re so far below.

Vance curses, looking around as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair and holds me tighter to him.

I sink against his chest as a tear rolls down my cheek, the suspense killing me.

What if Ian saw me?

My eyes thoroughly assess as much as I can see of the scene ahead. Emit’s wolf is huge in comparison to Ian’s, and Ian’s wolf is much bigger than the fox-size wolves most of the omegas I know turn into.

“You okay?” Vance asks me as he cups the back of my head.

“No, she’s not okay, and she really shouldn’t be here,” Damien says in an annoyed tone.

“Why? Because you’re siding with Arion on this and you want to kill every wolf in attendance?” Vance asks in such a muted tone that I barely hear it.

My eyes swing toward Damien, who just glares at Vance before looking away without answering.

Ian’s canines extend, and his lips curl back to make them even bigger, as he growls at Emit’s wolf. My attention doesn’t stray again.

The large, dark, beautiful wolf that is Emit just stands there, not making any move at first.

The second Ian lunges, the crowd scatters to the sides, because Emit moves quickly, slamming into the gray wolf before Ian even lands.

The dirt sprays into the air, and Ian flops around before leaping back up. The air is filled with snarls, the sound of gnashing teeth, and yelps of pain as the two tumble all over each other, snapping hard and moving too fast for me to see what’s really going on.

I’m not sure how long it goes on, but I do know those yelps of pain never come from Emit. Ian is taking a brutal version of a wolf ass-kicking.

The blood is everywhere, making me queasy, even though it’s so hypocritical to say, given the obvious.

Now, from the pieces of their conversations around me, I’ve gathered they were planning to bury Emit alive and leave him to rot for all eternity, and I was collateral damage. It makes me feel less inclined to worry as much, but they also make it sound like he forgives his wolves of everything, and I may have really made him hate me.

The battle ends when Ian can’t push himself back up, even as Emit stands easily.

“Damn pups see him absent from the fights and assume he’s too weak to show up. Fools,” one of the men below mutters as Ian whimpers and grudgingly exposes his neck.

I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen, but judging by the shock in the reactions and audible breaths all throughout the crowd, no one even considered Emit latching onto that throat and ripping into it.

But…that’s what happens.

He turns, and all the wolves, even the older, desensitized group below us, rustle restlessly, and the ones below us even dart to bow, eyes on the ground.

A wave of wolves drop to do the same, like they’re looking to the oldest to show them what to do next in a situation they haven’t faced before.

No one makes a sound as they continue to bow before him.

Emit shifts so effortlessly back to skin, standing to his full, intimidating height, as he wipes the blood from his mouth and beard.

“I think we’ve forgotten that my orders aren’t optional. If someone has my protection, no sane wolf touches them,” he says as he looks up at me like he’s caught a whiff of my scent.

His gaze moves before I can really be certain if he was actually staring at me.

“I put down the rabid,” he goes on. “Killing me is one thing. Torturing me is slightly more offensive,” he goes on in an idle tone that makes some visibly shudder, as though they’d considered being here tonight too and hope he doesn’t realize it.

Or they’re just pissing-themselves scared.

“Stepping on my word and involving an outsider—who is under my protection—in wolf vendettas to spit in my face?” Emit goes on as though he’s asking a rhetorical question.

Arion reappears at our side, his lips curved in a devilish grin that draws a narrowed look from Damien.

“Well, this just got a lot more interesting,” Arion says as he props up on a tree like he’s pleased with the world and all is right.

Vance’s grip tightens on me as he pulls me slightly away from Arion, whose gaze has moved to me.

I pretend not to notice as I stare at Emit, who gives me a subtle nod, as if to say, “We’ll be speaking soon.”

“Light it up,” Emit says to someone, and exploding bottles of fire are launched at the barn by ten or so different men dressed in tactical gear.

The fire burns hot and fast behind Emit, as he towers over most everyone, and stares at them all a minute longer.

“Make sure to tell the wolves who couldn’t make it out tonight,” he adds before he walks away.

Damien is missing when I turn back around.

Chapter 28

EMIT

“Not now. I have something really important to do,” I tell Damien.

“More wolves to kill that you wouldn’t normally kill?” he drawls as he strolls in.

“I already dealt with Vance’s inquisition on the matter last night. I don’t have to deal with yours tonight,” I tell him.

“You wouldn’t see me last night because you were busy then too,” he goes on, glancing around as he sniffs the air.

There’s too much wolf scent in here with all the betas who’ve been coming in and out all day, dropping off their gifts to the alpha today, reminding me who’s loyal and whatever. He won’t even smell the basket of oranges in the very next room.

I’ve spent the day staring at a computer until my eyes blurred.

I look over a few of the pages I printed out, discreetly keeping them out of his view.

“I want to know what really happened,” he tells me as he takes a seat and stares over at me.

“What do you mean?” I ask absently.

“Why did you, the alpha who spares as many wolves as possible and deals with the occasional mutinies, kill Ian and the rest of those wolves?”

“Wolf got unleashed,” I say like I’m explaining myself. “There were too many of my commands getting broken—”

“Feed that bullshit to Vance or Arion, since they lap it up. But I want to know what part Violet truly played in all that,” he tells me, drawing my full, confused attention at last.

He stares at me like he knows something, and I sit up a little taller. He notices the change and a knowing gleam crosses his eyes. But how much does he know?

“What do you think you know?” I ask him, deciding to lead him.

“There’s something to know, so that means you know too,” he says vaguely. “You start.”

“No, you start,” I volley.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Violet told me she couldn’t die before I passed out after…well, after I popped a cork,” he explains, a sour expression on his face.