Alpha's Strength (Fallen Alpha) (13 page)

“Where is Jensen?” She turned to Kyra. “Shouldn’t he busting through the door?”

The hordes of humans in the bar rushed forward, and the knife-wielding woman let them out, the whole time glaring at the group of werewolves.

“I don’t know. But we’re not got going to sit here and let these knife-wielding psychos hurt us. Stay behind me.”

As Kyra spoke, a strange sensation took over Betsy’s brain. Her vision tunneled. All she could see was the woman with the knife. How dare she threaten them? How dare she put any members of her pack in danger?

No, she wasn’t going to tolerate this anymore. She pulled out her shaking hands and stared at them. What she really needed was a weapon, and she had one. Or two, to be exact.

Betsy knew exactly what she had to do, and it was so damn simple. Even though she had never done it before, she had no doubt about how she could accomplish her task. All she had to do was will it.

Her hands shifted into hairy claws, which might have disturbed her if they hadn’t been so completely what she needed at that moment.

Kyra gasped, staring down at her. “How did you do that?”

“Can’t you?” She shook her head. “We’ll work it out later. I’m getting rid of her.”

“No.” Kyra held onto her. “Please don’t do that. I can’t let you get hurt.’

But she wanted to take care of this situation. She craved retribution for the threat.

Growls sounded around her. She didn’t know which werewolves had made the noise, but she joined in on the sound. These humans should be cowering. They should be on their knees hoping they didn’t get torn to bits.

Whether she wanted to fight or not, the option had been taken the moment the woman had issued her challenge. The knife-wielding humans rushed at them, and all Betsy saw was red.

****

“Betsy.” Liana shook her, and she stared down at the other woman. There were screams deafening her, and blood dripped from her hands. What had happened? She sucked in her breath. She’d seen red, and then she had no idea what happened.

“Liana.” She said the other woman’s name as though it were a lifeline because, in that moment, it was.

“That’s right. You’ve been in battle haze. It’s normal.” Liana shook her again gently. “Happens to all the new werewolves. But, listen to me, we have to get out of here.”

“What happened? What did I do? Where is Kyra?”

Liana’s face fell. “Let’s not worry about that now. You were remarkable. I can’t keep you safe here any longer.”

Just then the door flew open, and a large group of werewolves pushed through the door howling. She briefly saw Jensen, Mitchell, and some of the others she had met briefly, but she had eyes only for the man who led the charge.

Her Alpha.

Cyrus.

He rushed through the door, slamming into one of the humans holding a weapon. The man went down to the floor and was immediately picked by up by Mitchell, who twisted his neck into an unnatural position.

Cyrus was here. He was coming to her. She stared down at her claws. There was blood on them.
Whose blood is that? What has happened?

Her gaze flew to the door where the gray-haired woman lay with her throat slit. Had she done that? Where was Kyra? Something was in the back of her mind, something she should know.

Cyrus’ arms came around her, pulling her against him. “Are you okay? Betsy, are you okay? Look at me.”

She forced her eyes upward. “My hands.”

Betsy held up her hands to show him the claws. Cyrus took them in for a second. “Okay. It’s rare. Not all of us can do that. I can’t. I don’t partially shift. I’m really glad, in this case, that you can. Are you okay? Shit, I’ve never been so afraid. When I heard—”

Behind her came a sound she’d never heard before and hoped she never would again. A howl of pure and total pain filled the air, and everyone in the room went silent.

Betsy twisted in Cyrus’ arms. She had to see, had to know what could have caused such pain. It was a werewolf crying out. It had to be. But why?

Cyrus let go of her and moved toward the sound of the pain. She stared toward where he walked. Jensen was on his knees on the floor, his face a contorted version of his strong, tense features. Tears streamed down his face.

Only one thing could have done that to him.
Kyra. No.
The woman had been with her when it had all gone red. Was this her fault? She had no memory, no idea of what happened.
No. No. No
. This couldn’t be happening.

She rushed to Cyrus’ side. Kyra lay in Jensen’s lap, her eyes open and staring lifeless at the ceiling. Jensen rocked her back and forth, howling at the ceiling, and next to him, Lake wept openly.

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help.” Lake covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. It’s not working.”

It was the alcohol. Lake hadn’t been able to smell the perfume. She’d been out of it. None of them should have been drinking like they had, and Betsy couldn’t consider herself blameless. She’d known something was wrong. How could this be happening? Kyra had been talking about true mating, and now she was dead. Betsy couldn’t even remember how it had happened.

They were supposed to be going to the movies. She was supposed to be making friends.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Jensen put his head down on his dead mate’s body. “I couldn’t get through the door. There were too many of them outside. I’m so sorry. Take me with you. Don’t leave me here to do this alone. Don’t go, Kyra. Please, Lake, I’ll do anything you ask for. Bring her back. Anything you want.”

Cyrus squatted down next to Jensen. Her mate had yet to utter a word. Jensen was covered in blood and not all of it was Kyra’s. How long had the werewolf fought on the street?
Oh no.
They’d been on the street.

“Cyrus.” She could barely think, barely speak. “We have to go. The humans. I hear sirens.”

“They’re being kept back.” He didn’t look at her, his eyes on Jensen. “We have procedures, but they won’t work forever.”

Jensen’s voice hitched. “Cyrus, we can’t do this. We can’t let Kyra die here, my Alpha. Not like this. Not by the hands of the true believers. Not when it’s my fault for not getting in.”

“It’s not your fault.” The voice behind her startled her, and she whirled around. When had Alexei gotten here? Had he been with them the whole time? Like the other males in the room, he was covered in blood that wasn’t his. “The question is, what are you going to do about it, Cyrus?”

“War.” Finally, Cyrus raised his head finally and stared straight at Alexei. “I’m going to war, and God help anyone who gets in my way.”

Her mate threw his arms around Jensen. The strong warrior sobbed, large heaving gasps into his Alpha’s arms. A howl started somewhere, and it wasn’t from Jensen. She had no idea who had begun it, but before she could question it, they were all howling, even her. They’d lost someone tonight, a woman she hadn’t known long but had connected to, had belonged with even for the short time they’d been together.

This was goodbye. It was only fitting.

Someone had to tell her what she’d done.

There were five true believers still alive. They’d all been part of the group that attacked Jensen, and then the rest, on the street. None of them inside the bar had taken a breath again.

Cyrus stared at them in the darkness. He wasn’t certain all of them would make it to morning. Some of them would bleed out before the new day. There wasn’t a thing Cyrus was willing to do for them. They had done what no one should have been able to do, what had never happened since he’d taken over as Alpha. The humans he held captive had hurt his pack in such a way that it might never recover.

Jensen would never be the same. Cyrus couldn’t imagine how the other man would even get through the night. Cyrus had known Betsy for only two days, but if anything happened to her, he’d stop breathing. Life would be over. Jensen had lived ten years with Kyra. How could he face even a day without her?

Cyrus shook his head. Jensen had children. He’d find a way. The warrior werewolf would never leave them to suffer without both parents. Cyrus would see the kids at the goodbye ceremony. He would forever be in their memory as the werewolf who sent their mother back to the moon. Shepherd would forever live in his own memory that way.

“Two of them are goners for sure.” Alexei leaned against the wall next to him. “I know Lake is out of commission for the night. Do you want me to get my Healer here? I could put her on the plane and have her here in no time.”

“No. Thank you.” Cyrus didn’t care if they all dropped dead.

Nathan, who rocked back and forth in his cage, mumbling to himself, was all the collateral he needed at this point. “You’re going to have to keep feeding Nathan for me a few more days. Restrain yourself from killing him for a bit longer.”

The trip to Montana would have to be delayed until after they laid Kyra to rest. Then they would go.

“I will, of course.” Alexei nodded. “Because he is involved in whatever is going on with Betsy’s parents that you won’t be more detailed about.”

“Exactly.”

His negotiations with Alexei had gone well and had ended with a blood oath of non-aggression minutes before the call had come in about the problem with the women. He hadn’t asked the other man to come help them, but the other Alpha had fought beside him as if it were the most natural thing to do so.

“Are you okay?” He turned to Alexei. “Hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Then I’m going to go home.”

“These moments… when there’s nothing more to do for anyone, but it feels like there should be something… they’re the most frustrating because of how ineffectual it makes us.” Alexei yawned. “If anyone really knew what it was to be an Alpha before they took on the challenge, no one would do it.”

Cyrus didn’t want to talk to about his feelings, not with Alexei. He wouldn’t attack the other man’s territory, and his people would be safe from Alexei’s pack. That was enough. Nathan had been given as part of the deal. That was enough.

With a nod, he left the room. All the problems in his basement would still be there in the morning. Or they’d be dead. Either way, he needed to go home to his mate. His human legs wouldn’t move fast enough.

****

He passed several of his wolves on the way in. Cyrus hadn’t asked them to guard his mate, but it was nice to see they’d all done it anyway. He nodded to each of them, letting them know that they could leave. There was nothing more to say, no comforting words, nothing he could ever say to make tonight okay.

Shepherd would have given them platitudes. He’d been full of them when he and Lake had been orphaned.
Greater good. War. The life of a werewolf.
Screw all those meaningless nothings spoken to make the speaker feel better, not the person enduring the pain. Cyrus wouldn’t do that to any of them.

This was awful. They’d know he felt it too.

Finally, at his door, he saw Mitchell. He stared at the other wolf for a second before speaking. He never saw Mitchell without Jensen. They’d been the closest of friends before Jensen’s mating, and nothing had changed afterward.

“What are you doing here?” Mitchell should be with Jensen, not standing at his doorway. There were others to fulfill that duty tonight.

“I failed Kyra.” Mitchell’s voice sounded hoarse. “I won’t have your mate hurt. Not while I can be here to guard her.”

“We all failed Kyra.” Cyrus had to look away for a second, lest he give in to the urge to start howling in the hallway. “I’d never seen such a lineup of armed humans waiting for a fight. They knew we would come. They waited for us.”

“Maybe if Jensen hadn’t been alone when it started…” Mitchell fisted his hands.

“Maybe if I had stopped the bar outings when he first told me about them.” It had seemed relatively harmless. Jensen had always watched them. Cyrus had believed that as long as he kept the pregnant females out of view, then the rest of them would be safe. Kyra was dead because of his arrogance.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I appreciate the words, Mitchell.” But they didn’t absolve him. Ultimately, the responsibility fell to him. They all belonged to him, and it was his gift to be able to lead them, protect them. “This was the world I grew up in. So did you, although you were a baby. Maybe you don’t remember it.”

Outside a car honked, reminding him of the real world that would too soon make this day nothing more than a memory.

“I remember the drills. I remember my parents were afraid. They’re not anymore. Not since you.” Mitchell’s words struck Cyrus hard. The fact that he stayed upright was a miracle unto itself. All this time and it turned out that all he had been was lucky. None of the things he’d arranged had made the slightest difference. When the humans wanted to attack them, they’d been perfectly able to accomplish their task.

“I would keep you all safe if I could. If working at it day and night could accomplish true safety, that is what I would do.”

Mitchell nodded. “The blame for tonight does not fall to you.”

“It does. As it should.” Cyrus shook his head. “We’ll bury Kyra tomorrow, and then I have to leave for Montana.”

“What time should we be ready to leave?” Mitchell’s jaw was tight, and Cyrus could feel the aggression radiating from the other man’s body. He couldn’t blame him. Cyrus also craved a fight.

“You’re not coming with me.”

Mitchell’s eyes widened. “Sir? Have I done something to make you lose trust in me?”

“Just the opposite, actually. I have to leave New York and go to Montana. We’re not at war with Philadelphia or Boston. I’ve made arrangements that should secure that peace. . But I need someone to hold Manhattan in my stead. I’ve never chosen a second-in-command. It never seemed necessary. Now it’s clear to me that too much time has passed and that I’ve been remiss in not selecting one of you. Mitchell, would you be second? Would you hold Manhattan until I return and, if I don’t come back, will you lead the pack? Keep it strong and safe?”

Mitchell fell to his knees, his head facing the floor. “Sir, I don’t deserve such an honor.”

“You do.” Cyrus shifted his weight. A “yes, sir, I’ll take the job”
would have sufficed. These traditions were old and long-standing. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised by the reaction. “Stand up and take it if it’s what you want.”

Mitchell stood up. “It would be an honor. I won’t fail you. We’ll find this threat, and we’ll destroy it.”

“We will.” Because Cyrus would die before he ever let this happen again. His mate would be safe in Manhattan for the rest of her days. His people would know peace again. He’d work to make that happen until he drew his very last breath.

****

Betsy was asleep on the couch. She’d left the shades open in the living room, and the lights from the street illuminated her resting figure in colored shadows that made her look, for a moment, unreal, as though she might disappear into the darkness of the colorful display from outside if he blinked.

He took a deep breath, drawing in her scent, which confirmed to him that she was real. Cyrus walked closer, and she didn’t stir. Her mouth was slightly open, her tongue pressed against her teeth. He wished he could have been here to hold her while she cried, the scent of her distress still evident in the room. Her hair was knotted and wet. She must have showered before she changed her clothes. He’d have the bloody ones burned so she never had to look at them and remember.

Cyrus’ gaze fell to her hands. They were still shifted into semi-wolf form. It was so amazing she could do that. He couldn’t. Cyrus either shifted or he didn’t, and as an Alpha, he could manage to shift when it wasn’t a full moon, but most of the pack would never even be able to manage that. The ability to change at will showed the strength to be an Alpha. It was a rather big sign of a pup’s future.

Betsy had managed to half-shift her hands, but she was obviously not able to get shift them back. He placed his fingers on top of hers and stared at them for a second.

Turn back
.

Betsy’s hands glimmered before they shifted back to their human form. He smiled at the sight. Cyrus would never be able to do all the things he needed to do, but that, at least, he could manage.

She stirred, her lids fluttering open. “Hi.”

“Hello there.” He smoothed his hand over her forehead. She felt warm from sleep. In a kind world, he’d get to pick her up, carry her to the bed, and snuggle in for the rest of the night. But they had things to talk about before then, and he wasn’t sure he could sleep anyway. Truth was he might never rest easy again.

“I wanted to wait up for you, but I guess I crashed.”

“Perfectly normal after the adrenaline surge.”

She sat up, and he moved until he could position himself right next to her. Sleep might be out of the question, but he needed her presence. She wasn’t the only one who needed to come down from the stress of the night. His blood still boiled too hot.

“Cyrus, that’s the problem.” She rubbed her forehead. “I can’t remember any of it. Something happened. Kyra is dead. Did I do that?”

“What? No, you didn’t.” How could she even think that?

“One second she was telling me I couldn’t fight, that she would protect me, and the next thing I remember, Liana was shaking me. There was blood all over me, and Kyra was dead.”

“Not from your hand.” Cyrus wished he had known she been worried about this earlier. He could have reassured her before he sent her home. “Kyra died from a gut wound delivered to her by a sharp knife. From what you’re telling me, she was probably protecting you if she made you stay behind her.”

He’d always admired Kyra, but now she would forever hold a place of honor in his memory. The woman had gone down protecting his mate. That kind of sacrifice could never be paid back.

“But I don’t know what I did. I must have done something. My hands—claws—were covered in blood.” She sounded so forlorn that he pulled her onto his lap.

“Betsy, princess, you killed the woman who stabbed her. That’s what you did. That’s what Liana told me. And then you were lost to the haze, and, thank goodness, she brought you back from it. Most of the time, we don’t suffer the haze when we’re wearing our human skin. That’s a new werewolf problem. Teenagers suffer for years. But you’re rapidly catching up, and maybe because of your ability to shift part of your body, it triggered the response.”

“I killed the woman who killed Kyra.” She said the words into his shirt, and he stroked her back.

“How do you feel about that?” He knew how he felt—tremendous relief and pride. But Betsy still needed to adjust to all of this. Humans took the repercussions of killing very seriously. They didn’t see the necessity of it the way werewolves did. The woman had killed Kyra. Of course, she’d had to die.

“Good.” She sniffed, pulling back. “Right. Justified. Glad I did it even if I can’t remember it. Cyrus, does that make me a sociopath?”

“No.” He put his hands on the sides of her head. “It makes you one of us. You protected my people tonight. Thank you, Betsy, thank you. I’m sorry this happened to you. It never should have.”

“They’re mine too. Or at least they feel that way. Like I know them, even though I don’t.”

“That’s pack. They are yours. We all belong to each other.” He kissed the end of her nose. “But when I got the call, all I could think about was you. Getting to you. We were trapped outside. Humans everywhere. I’ve never seen them so organized in their attacks on us.”

“I knew you would come, and then when I saw you, Cyrus, all I could feel was relief. You were there. You were okay. We were all going to be okay. But it wasn’t.” The catch in her voice tore at his heart. “Kyra was dead. Lake couldn’t save her, I guess. I don’t remember.”

“My sister’s abilities were not on track. Alcohol does that to us. I should have forbidden it, I knew what was going on, but I didn’t think it was a problem. We were safe. I really believed that. I’m such a fool.”

“No.” She placed her hands on his chest. “You’re not. Something is happening, escalating. I don’t know what it is. But me, Lilliana, my parents, these crazy psychos coming after us, it’s all related. You couldn’t have known this would happen. You can’t predict the future any more than I can.”