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Chapter Forty-Eight
Oscar
NoahjumpswhenourAlpha slams the door shut. I knew it was coming, but it still makes me shiver.
Everett wants to kill someone. Namely, the Alpha of the other pack.
I shrug at Noah when he turns his shocked stare on me.
“I’m just guessing, but I don’t think he’s happy that they showed up early.”
“No shit,” Noah mutters. He looks at the door, as if he’s surprised it’s still standing after Everett’s rough treatment of it. “If the witch leaves, the wolves might make the situation worse.”
Meaning, they’ll goad Everett into unjustifiable murder.
They haven’t threatened our pack. We’ve threatened theirs.
They have a dead girl to prove that.
They don’t need a dead Alpha added to the pile.
Things are bad enough.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“You have a death wish?”
I shake my head. “My hands will do the talking.”
“It’s your funeral.”
Yes. Yes, it is, actually.
Say goodbye, Noah, cause this Omega is about to be dead to you.
To all of you.
“Well, you know I like roses but make sure they’re red. That’s the color of passion. You do love me, right?”
He rolls his eyes. I move over to the door Everett just slammed.
I turn the handle slowly and push it in without resistance.
It’s not damaged, which is surprising.
The last time Everett slammed a door it fell apart when we got it open.
He’s standing in the spare bedroom, his back to me. His hands are curled into tight fists by his sides.
His rage is off the charts. He’s shaking with it. His energy is raw and ready to be poured into violence delivered by every muscle in his body.
He breathes like he’s trying to contain it, and he’s barely holding on.
I touch his arms and he shakes my hands away, growling lightly at me.
I use a firmer grip this time, and he growls louder.
“Calm down,” I tell him, as my Omega’s touch starts to melt his rage under its soothing energy.
