Lorne’s disgusting remark is met with more laughter. He reaches for me. I veer away, his scent growing so offensive I nearly gag. His touch is wrong, too.

“No!” Caden roars.

The wild growl that tears from him is forbidding and possessive. It sends half of the pack crashing to their knees.

Lorne remains on his feet with some effort, fingers digging into my arm. “What’s wrong, cousin? You rejected her. I’m glad to have your scraps, as always.”

I whimper.

And Caden’s composure snaps.

7CADEN

The sight of another male touching Avery drives my wolf wild. Lorne’s boasting of taking her for himself because I don’t want her breaks the fragile restraint I managed to gain to refuse this bond.

My vision goes red.

I act without thinking. One minute I’m putting some needed distance between us, the next I’m wrenching Lorne away from her.

He grunts, struggling with me. My muscles bulge with the power of my wolf. He’s pressed close, moments from taking my skin.

Threat. That’s what’s driven me to the breaking point. I sense that this male is a threat. He’s trying to take from me.

Bloodlust pumps through my veins. It’s not enough to get Lorne off her. The things he said loop through my mind and my fangs descend so fast they cut my lip. He fucking laughs.

“What are you losing control over?” he taunts. “Over that pathetic Wolfless who’s nothing more than a cunt to use? The one you refused?”

I want to rip his tongue out and chew it up.

Then the sinews of his vocal chords.

I want his blood soaking the lawn for days so everyone knows not to go near her.

My body isn’t my own. Reason has left me, along with my carefully maintained control.

Lorne’s arrogant grin, his suggestion to use Avery, his hands all over her—I growl fiercely, my wolf making himself known. His shoulder pops from its socket when I twist his arm behind his back. He grits his teeth, aiming an elbow at my gut. I crush his arm in my powerful grip and the bones snap beneath the full strength I put into it.

He screams in fury, shoving at me. “You attack your packmate—your own blood? Over her? She’s not one of us. Probably lying about being your fated, too. Your father should’ve killed every Morgan left after he won that challenge. Wipe out the whole rotten bloodline.”

“Shut up,” I snarl, my voice all wolf.

I lose him for a second when he breaks away, then I’m back on him immediately, harshly grabbing him by the injured part above his elbow to keep his accelerated healing from knitting the broken bones together. I’m not finished yet.

It’s not enough. I could tear his damn arm off and burn it in front of her, and it would never be enough to erase his touch on what’s mine.

My attention moves to Avery. She’s breathing heavily, arms wrapped around herself. Her focus is locked on me. Tears fill her eyes, but there’s an intent gleam to them when I drive my fist into Lorne’s gut.

She likes this. My chest puffs out and fur sprouts down my arms. The material of my shirt strains over my body as it expands to contain the beast within. It tears at the seams, hanging from me in scraps of fabric when I punch him again and again until he doubles over.

Yes. See how strong we are? How we protect you?

I shake my head, ripping my gaze from her. Gripping Lorne’s throat and a fistful of his shirt, I take him to the ground, pinning him on his back.

He’s not laughing now, staring up at me with outrage. With challenge. Still meeting my fucking eyes when he should be submitting to his alpha.

Lips peeled back, I squeeze his throat, watching his face turn purple. He jerks, holding my gaze with open defiance. My fingers curl tighter, feeling his rapid pulse hammering.

“Submit,” I roar in his face.

A choked-off wail from the nearby crowd filters through the red haze consuming me. Sylvie, Lorne’s mother. I spare her a glance, finding my uncle’s fist clamped on her nape to keep her quiet.

“Don’t interfere. You’ll make him look weak,” Cormac corrects angrily.

My uncle was never much of a problem when my father was alpha, but once his older brother passed, Cormac has never missed an opportunity to make it known what he thinks of my choices in leading the pack. Everyone measures me against Dempsey Blackburn’s great reign, but he actively works to see his sons undermine me without any of them facing me in a challenge.

I fight with my wolf for control. I never let myself break like this. Cormac’s going to use this against me. He’ll probably whisper with the elders who waver between begrudging me their respect and griping about how things were in their day. I’m losing ground.

My wolf isn’t listening. His hackles are raised, growling nonstop. He won’t be satisfied, not by submission alone.

I’m on the verge of doing much worse to Lorne than breaking his arm and choking him out. My wolf wants to tear him limb from limb, death the only acceptable outcome to the challenge.

“That’s enough,” I seethe. “It’s over. I have you pinned. Drop your fucking eyes and submit.”

Lorne’s eye twitches. Movement in the grass drags my focus from him.

Sweet notes of honey wash over me. Warm sunshine breaking through after a summer rain. I whip my head in Avery’s direction.

She’s edging closer. I lose what little thread of my control I’ve regained all over again with her near.

This is why I know fate is wrong. Look how quickly I almost destroyed the fragile balance of order I maintain over the pack because of her.

Pain flares in my sternum, jarring me with a sharp lance before fading. My wolf fights me for our skin, scratching at my restraint. He barrels against the barrier keeping him at bay. If she comes over to me, if she touches me again, I know he’ll break through.

I snarl at her, battling between reason and my crazed wolf wanting the taste of Lorne’s blood on my tongue when I rip his throat out. Everything I’ve worked to build in this pack is seconds from slipping through my fingers if I give in to what the beast within me wants, no, demands—to tear my packmate to shreds for daring to go near his mate.

The very mate I just rejected because this bond is wrong. She can’t be mine. Fate is fucked up for thinking she’s my destined match.

Avery is a Morgan. My enemy. I’ll never trust her.

“Go!” I shout. “Get the hell away from here!”

She flinches, stumbling back another step with hunched shoulders. I grit my teeth, ceasing Lorne’s struggle against my grip pinning him to the ground. My claws dig into his jugular, ready to pierce his skin and soak the ground with his blood.

“Now, Avery!” I order fiercely.

The powerful Alpha command infused in my words booms through the clearing, bringing anyone left standing to their knees in submission. Everyone except Avery.

She remains defiant on her feet, somehow unaffected by the strength of my dominant rule.

Impossible. No one should be able to ignore an order of a pack alpha with that much force behind the shifter magic.

A rumbling growl vibrates in my chest. My wolf is pleased with her. Proud.

8AVERY

My ears pop and my gut twists when Caden issues his order for me to leave, but it doesn’t feel the way it should. Not even the way the Alpha’s command tried to influence me earlier when we crossed paths.

It’s painful, but it’s more from him doubling down on rejecting me as his mate. There’s no spark running through my soul to demand my loyalty to his word.

A few packmates’ whimpers and distressed whining reaches me through the blood rushing in my ears. Some have pissed themselves, faces pressed into the dirt, quivering in fear. Focusing on them becomes difficult, my attention returning inward to the storm battering my psyche.