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I was going to fucking kill him.
"Alastor—" Carlisle started, but his voice was lost to the roaring in my ears.
I whirled around and stormed out of the tent before I broke his fucking jaw. Wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, I stalked across the short distance to where our cars were parked. With a roar, my fist connected with the metal side of the nearest vehicle, and the sound of crumpling steel reverberated through the camp. The metal screamed as my fist left another dent in itsside, and then another. Pain lanced through my hand, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside me. My breath came out in ragged snarls, hot and heavy, as I fought to control the beast.
Hellhounds were well known to have tempers, but most didn’t know that wasn’t the half of it. Hell’s fire itself burned through our veins making us hotly passionate and driven by a demonic primal instinct that we were trained to control from an early age. Theo thought I was losing it? He hadn’t seen anything yet.
"Alastor!" Carlisle's voice cut through the din of my own blood pounding in my ears. His hand clamped around my injured fist; his grip forceful yet somehow steady. "You break your bones, you're benched. Healing takes a week. You want that?"
I shook off his grasp, wincing not from the pain but the truth in his words. "Don't need reminding," I muttered.
My gaze found Theo's and our eyes locked. He wasn’t daunted by the damage I’d caused, not at all. His own rage simmered under the surface of his skin and golden wolf eyes fixed me with a challenge that my hound was desperate to rise to.
"Got something to say?" I challenged, every muscle coiled tight.
"Plenty," Theo shot back. “Look at yourself, Alastor. You’re falling apart.”
"Fucking idiot," I growled. "You're going to hurt her. I’ll kill you first."
"Me?" Theo's voice rose sharply. "You're the one tearing her apart! Blaming her for your own messed-up feelings!"
I bared my teeth, the ember of rage igniting within me. "I'm trying to protect her."
"From what? You?" Theo's laugh was bitter, edged with frustration. "If you can't lead because your head's too far up your ass, maybe it's time I stepped in. Show her a real leader, a real man who can protect her, because it’s clear you’re fucking toxic."
Something snapped inside me, the last thread of control severing. The hellhound in me surged, a tempest of black smoke and ember eyes and my form expanded, muscles stretching and bones realigning as the hellhound burst forth, my howl echoing through the camp.
Theo's transformation was more fluid, the sleek wolf emerging with a grace that belied the power beneath his fur. We stood facing each other, two alphas in our prime, our growls intertwining as primal instinct took hold.
In that moment, nothing else existed—just the fire in my veins and the jumped-up challenger before me. He needed to be put in his place. He needed to submit, or I would kill him.
Dust kicked up as we launched at each other, two forces of nature colliding under the vast desert sky.
"Alastor! Theo!" Carlisle's voice was a distant echo, drowned out by the growls and snarls filling the air.
Our bodies hit the ground, rolling, a tangle of snapping jaws and clawing paws. The pain of his claws raking over ravaged skin and muscle was nothing compared to the sting of betrayal that lashed my heart with every move. Theo had crossed a line, and I was intent on teaching him the hierarchy once again.
The camp erupted into chaos, the sounds of zippers and hasty footfalls piercing the night as people spilled from their tents.
My hellhound form was a behemoth against Theo's wolf, yet he was agile, slipping through my grasp as we battled for dominance. His teeth found purchase on my hide, and I retaliated with a ferocious bite to his shoulder.
We were beyond reason, beyond commands, driven by our primal instincts and the wounds only pride can inflict. The memory of Sariel's lips pressed to mine under the water, so soft and inviting — it had tormented me ever since. And Theo, damn him, had stolen another taste on dry land, while I was holding myself back, a hostage to the fear that had shaken me at thethought of something happening to her. My fury was a living thing, hot and writhing beneath my skin.
I went for Theo once more, my larger form casting a shadow over his grey-furred body. He was a formidable wolf, his coat matted with dirt and blood, but today he would remember who led this pack. As I lunged, Theo swung around, teeth lashing out to catch my leg. Pain shot up through me, but it was nothing compared to the rage flaming in my heart. I retaliated, roaring and catching him by the scruff of his neck with a vice-like grip. We rolled in the dust, a whirlwind of snarls and shifting bodies against the dry desert night.
My jaws closed around his throat, and a ferocious growl rumbled from deep within me. I expected him to submit, to go limp and acknowledge the pecking order. But he didn't. He kicked out, hard, catching me off guard, forcing me to lose my grip. The smell of iron wafted in the air as he scrambled to his feet, blood staining his fur where my teeth had dug into his skin. His golden eyes bore into mine, anger and determination shining brightly. I waited for a heartbeat, for him to submit, but instead his eyes narrowed, and he went for me again.
I snarled, my growl echoing in the night, bouncing off the nearby cliffs and storming back towards us. The sound filled the camp, a thunderous declaration of my supremacy. Fire licked at the edges of my vision as I dove towards him, a raging tempest of black smoke and hellfire.
Theo responded in kind, teeth bared, and hackles raised. But he was still on the defensive, still scrambling to match my fury. With every clash, his power began to wane — his spirit was strong, but the body could only take so much.
Beneath the onslaught of my rage, he was faltering.
With a final surge of strength, I lunged at Theo for one last time. My form collided with his, knocking him onto his back with a painful grunt. Pinned beneath my weight, Theo writhedon the ground below me. He struggled and snapped, but it was no good — he was caught. My anger was a tide, sweeping away reason and restraint, and my jaws fastened around his throat, biting deeply, ready to tear it away. He wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t let him.
He twisted under me, turning to expose his underbelly, a sign of submission among our kind.
“Alastor,” Carlisle shouted. “Alastor, that’s enough. You’ve won. Let him up.”
