I share a glance with Caius. The rest of our pack has taken up a protective crescent around us, ensuring their top clan is protected from any unexpected attacks.
But none come.
Because Bryson isn’t anywhere near here. “What kind of coward leaves his pack like this?” I demand. “Where’s the honor?”
“He took their defensive line, too,” Caius adds. “Because there’s no way we’ve already cut through them all.”
Tieran steps forward, his posture holding an air of dominance that he makes less threatening by putting away his weapons.
I still keep mine drawn, my hand at my side. I don’t trust Bryson not to use this as a perfect opportunity to ambush us.
Caius must feel similarly because he keeps his gun out as well.
One of the females screams, drawing my attention and my gun to her, only to realize she’s yelling about her child who has just escaped her grasp. He’s maybe seven and running toward Tieran at full speed.
I take a step forward, ready to block the little tyrant.
But Tieran holds me off with his hand, then crouches to meet the little bugger’s fist.
He slams it right into Tieran’s shoulder.
The mother appears stricken, stumbling into a wall with her hand against her mouth.
However, all Tieran does is grin. “Nice hit, kid,” he says, catching the boy’s fist as he tries to punch him again. “You have fight, I’ll give you that,” he tells him, a little purr emanating from his chest in approval.
“Please,” the mother whispers, tears pouring down her face. “Please don’t. I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt him.”
“Will you tell me where your Alpha went?” Tieran asks as he catches the kid’s other hand.
He’s right—the kid has spirit.
Definitely alpha caliber. He’s growling and trying to tackle Tieran even while he has no hands. It’s sort of adorable.
And really fucking sad.
“Your Alpha left a child behind to fight for you all,” I say, shaking my head. “What a fucking craven.”
“H-he t-took the jeeps and headed down the b-back trails,” the mother stammers, her hands on her chest as she tries to step forward. But a woman with long black hair holds her back, true fear in her features.
Because they think we’re savage beasts.
What they don’t realize is they’ve been living under the rule of a real monster for decades.
He feeds them lies about our kind to keep them scared. Because if they knew the truth, they would run toward us, not from us.
Tieran spins the kid around as he tries to kick him. “Stop,” he tells him sternly, his purr intensifying. “I’m not going to hurt you or your mum.” He wraps his arms around the boy, pulling him back to his chest in a backward hug. “You can relax, little alpha. You did good trying to protect them.”
The words are against his ear, his voice still stern, but holding the nurturing touch of a Pack Alpha.
Tieran purrs a little more, the rumble distinctly different from the one he uses with Clove. This is a purr meant to soothe a pack member, which seems to be working wonders on the boy because he’s sagging now in defeat.
In the next moment, the child is crying. But they’re not tears of sadness, they’re tears of fury.
“H-he left us. Papa left us.”
My lips curl down. “Bryson?” Did he create another heir under our noses?
“His father is an enforcer,” one of the others explains. This one a male with shaggy hair who can’t be older than fifteen. “They all left us.”
