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“Now, let’s calm down.”
“You could’ve made an alliance with the pack,” I say. “And instead, you spit in their faces and shot their leader. You’ve made a powerful enemy, and you’re going to regret it when we win this war.”
“So quick to change sides,” he says. “He must be good.”
I frown. “Why are you so obsessed with my sex life, Patrick? Is it because you’re jealous? Or do you just get off on controlling the people here?”
“You fucking bitch,” he snarls, looking down his sights.
I don’t give him a chance to shoot.
I lunge forward, barreling toward him and knocking him to the ground. He goes down with a grunt, his head snapping back against the gravel beneath us. He’s no fighter, and he’s sloppy.
I should kill him.
The full moon urges me to violence, the gun so close I could grab it now and take him out. I’ve killed before—more than a few times, in fact. I’ve probably killed people that didn’t deserve it, and Patrickdefinitelydeserves it. He kept me locked in a cage for six straight days, and if he lives on, he could hurt my sister.
But I can’t prove to him that lycanthropy makes us monsters.
I grab the gun and turn on the safety, then stick it in the back of my pants. Patrick cowers underneath me, taking in harsh breaths. He knows the power I have over him right now.
“I want to make it clear that I’m making achoice,” I say, standing over him. “My choice is not to kill you, even though I have the opportunity to do it and youcertainlywould have done the same to me. Because my people—mypack—aren’t monsters. You’re the only monster here.”
“Okay,” he mumbles. “I get it. You’re in charge.”
“Homestead would be safer without you,” I say. “And I just want to add—if you lay a hand on my sister, I am coming toend you.”
He sputters and nods, staying glued to the ground. I chance one last look up toward the jail, but Enid is long gone, and everyone else is dealing with the crisis in the stockyards.
It’s time for me to go.
I turn on my heel and head for the brush, pulling it aside and ducking through the hole in the fence. By the time a cry goes up that I’ve run off, I’m already halfway across the prairie, running free and out of their reach.
I say goodbye to Homestead.
I run home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
?
REYES
The night seems to go entirely still when I realize she’s free. I freeze in a forest clearing, closing my eyes and just listening. I hear the hoot of an owl, the drone of cicadas, a cricket singing in the brush. Something scampers away from us, scenting predators in the woods.
I listen.
The others fall into a wide circle around me, waiting for my instruction. And as I feel Tilda’s pure, unfiltered joy and hope, I send them a command.
Go home.
I sense hesitation. They don’t know what’s going on. But I can feel her getting closer, hitting the edge of the woods. She’s free,free, and I have to reach her before the Homesteaders manage to catch her.
Go!I command.
The wolves disperse, leaving me in the woods. Even Arden, who seems intent on coming with me, finally leaves, vanishing into the shadows. They head back toward the den, though I’m sure a few of them will follow.
So I send the command one more time, urging them home with the will of the Alpha Prime.
