Cold-Blooded Alpha by Eve Bale

Chapter Twenty-Four

All day, the tension rises as I count down to the talk Dayne and I are going to have.

He’s going to want to know about Uncle Glynn, I tell myself, as I stare out of the window as the pack prepares for the BBQ.

Earlier, Luka and some of the others went into town to stock up on extra food and beers. No one invited me.

I considered asking, right up until I caught a glimpse at the forbidding expression on Dayne’s face and remembered his fury the last time I went.

Going into town would mean me going to the grocery store, which would mean me being around Fisher. A guy who likes me, according to Dayne. I see the knowledge of that on Dayne’s face, so I don’t say a word. Instead, I retreat to the den with Regan.

How am I going to get out of telling him about all the things I left behind: the shame of it, all the humiliating things my pack did to me, the constant fear? How am I supposed to tell Dayne Blackshaw, the powerful alpha who I doubt has ever known a day of fear and helplessness his entire life, all of that?

The truth of it is I can’t. Not if I expect him to look at me with anything even close to resembling respect.

“Talis?” Regan calls from the couch.

“Yeah?” I don’t take my eyes from outside.

I could run.

With Dayne and the others busy setting up for the BBQ, they might not even realize I’d gone for several hours if I plan it out right.

“You okay?”

No.

They would know, and with Regan sticking close to me, it’s like Dayne has her watching me or something. As if he suspects I’d try to run. Knowing him, he probably does.

“Fine.”

“You know you can talk to me. About anything.”

As if he feels me observing him, Dayne turns, and through the glass, our eyes connect.

Backing away from the window, I tear my gaze away from him.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

I need to spend the next hour at least burying my wolf deep down inside of me because if anything is going to force her to the surface, it’ll be talking about Uncle Glynn.

* * *

Despite the tension between Dayne and me, the food portion of the BBQ and the first football game—which I don’t take part in goes okay.

I’m sure my decision to stay as far away from Dayne as possible plays a large part in relieving at least some of the tension.

As the pack gets ready to start up the second game of the evening, the last before it gets too dark, I’m grinning at something Regan says.

But, at the sound of giggling, and Dayne’s sudden bark of laughter, I turn and spot the hand Savannah has just placed on his arm.

As if he belongs to her.

And just like that, the grip I have on my wolf snaps.

“Mine.” My voice is nothing less than the snarl of an enraged wolf.

Around me, everyone stops what they’re doing. And even as I struggle to regain my hold, I know it’s too late, she’s seized control.

But that doesn’t stop me from fighting as I go down to my knees.

I feel the pack’s eyes on me, but right now I don’t care I’ve become the focus of attention. It’s the battle raging inside me that takes priority.

“No, no, no. No.”

Raising my hands to my head, I squeeze my eyes shut in a vain attempt to block everything out so I can concentrate on the furious wolf inside me tearing down all the walls I’ve built.

It’s a battle I’ve already lost, I know this, but still, I fight. Still, I desperately cling to the idea I might find some way to force her back.

“Stop fighting her, Talis.”

I don’t hear Dayne approach, but he’s there in front of me, and I smell her—Savannah.

The knowledge my mate is coming to me wearing the scent of another woman adds strength to my wolf’s attempt to force herself out.

I open my eyes and yank my hand from my face. I’m not surprised at what I see.

I’m changing. My skin has shifted from tanned, freckled skin to wolf fur, and my short nails are lengthening into claws.

Shaking my head, I grit my teeth as I push hard, trying to force her back, trembling with effort.

I watch as the honey-brown fur, the same color as my hair ripples and shifts back to human skin and stays like it.

“Talis. Let her out.” Dayne’s command is all alpha, and I snarl at him for thinking he can tell me what to do.

My clawed fingers lash out, and I scent blood in the air. Dayne’s.

There’s a low growl somewhere off to the side, but Dayne doesn’t even turn as he snaps at Luka to back off.

The scent of Dayne’s blood distracts me enough for my skin to once more ripple with wolf fur, except now it’s not just limited to my arms. I can feel the change spreading over my legs, my back… everywhere.

My very bones are reshaping from the inside out.

It’s been so long since I’ve changed. Years.

The pain of it. The sharp agony of it feels like my first shift, and I cry out now as I did then, my body burning as if I’ve been lit on fire.

My skin is so sensitive, I ache to tear my clothes away and find some relief from the feel of my cotton shirt grating against me. But it’s my jeans that are the worst. The urge to shred the harsh material to pieces with the claws emerging from the tips of my fingers is so intense, it saps even more of my strength not to.

My vision changes. Sharpens.

This is bad. And it’s only going to get worse.

Desperately, I try to stand, to back away, intending to get inside and to the bedroom where I can bottle my wolf back in. But Dayne’s hard grip on my wrist stops my desperate ascent, and crouching in front of me, he forces me to meet his eyes.

“Let her go.” His eyes have gone full wolf, and they and his touch compel. They leave me no other choice but to embrace the change sweeping through me.

Already weakened from fighting against one wolf, I lack the strength to fight against another. As if sensing she and Dayne have exhausted my will, I feel her lunge.

She crashes through the cage already crumbling to pieces all around her.

And then the world shifts and spins as lights dance across my vision and every part of me screams in agony. Bones snap and reshape, and my clothes are suddenly in the way. Too big. Wanting to trap me. Choke me.

I bat them away and toss my head to free myself of the last of the clinging material.

I can smell the woman on my mate, tainting the wild, fresh scent of him my wolf wants to investigate further. And it makes me… furious.

The air crackles with the heat of my rage as I pace in front of him.

Mate. Mine.

With my lips peeled back from my teeth, I snarl my fury for all to hear. A warning: stay the fuck away.

“There she is. Beautiful,” Dayne murmurs in a voice I’d suspect of being awe if he wasn’t the cold-blooded alpha, and I whip around, snapping at him.

Oh god, this is even worse than I imagined.

She snapped at Dayne and nearly took his nose off. And now that it’s my turn to be locked inside, powerless to do anything, unable to stop her, I flinch in horror.

There’s movement amongst the watching pack, but Dayne never takes his eyes off of me. Or rather my wolf. It’s like we’re two separate souls sharing one body. It shouldn’t be like this. We should be one, not fighting for dominance with each other.

What the fuck have I done to myself?

Dayne raises a hand as if warning whoever it is to stay back.

She/I continue to pace back and forth in front of Dayne who never takes his eyes away from me, still in a crouch.

I can still smell the woman on him, and it isn’t hard to locate her standing in the middle of the huddle observing me.

It doesn’t surprise me when my wolf growls viciously at the woman who dared put her hand on my mate. Since the first night I arrived, I knew what my wolf would do to her if I ever let her out. And now she’s out, I get front row seats to her tearing Savannah apart.

Savannah blanches, her skin going white as she backs up and drops her gaze.

She’s not the only one who responds to my wolf’s growl.

Eyes drop.

Even Luka jerks his gaze to the ground. But seeing the pack shift as if to hide Savannah from my gaze, triggers an even more enraged growl.

They drop to their knees, making sure to lower their head so it’s below mine. But it’s not enough to satisfy my wolf.

The only thing that’s going to satisfy her is the scent of Savannah’s blood in the air. The stink of her fear isn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

She/I take a step toward Savannah. The pack tenses as one.

“Talis.” It’s Dayne, but my wolf ignores him.

Then she takes another. And another. Prepares to lunge. Prepares to bite.

She’s going to do it. My wolf is going to rip out this woman’s throat and all I’ll be able to do is watch.

I try to close my eyes, but of course, that doesn’t help. How can you stop yourself from seeing something you’re doing with your own hands—or rather claws and teeth?

“Talis.” My wolf shrugs off the command in Dayne’s voice.

She prepares to spring at the woman not even trying to hide her trembling.

“Luna,” Dayne says.

My wolf pauses, tips her head to eye Dayne.

“I thought you’d like that,” he says, his lips twitching. “You don’t need to hurt her.”

He’s protecting her, defending her. My wolf doesn’t like that, not one bit.

She rounds on Dayne, snapping at him again. Her growls telling him what she thinks of him.

Although my wolf and I don’t speak in words but in emotions, I know she’s enraged at Dayne, blames him, wants him to remember this isn’t the first time this woman touched him. That he let her.

“I understand,” he says. “But you need to control yourself now.”

How can he understand anything other than my rage? And with our mate bond still mostly a wall between us, he shouldn’t be able to read my emotions.

Also, telling my wolf she needs to control herself? Not the best idea.

She stalks forward and her jaw loosens.

I grab desperately for any part of her, try to stop her from ripping out Dayne’s throat, but I have no control of her. Not anymore.

Her growl is low, guttural. Furious.

She snaps her teeth at his throat, and my heart stops.

Then she snorts when Dayne doesn’t move, just continues to regard her steadily, before she turns and stalks away from him, back to Savannah. Back to the woman whose fear has intensified, and the scent is delicious.

“Hey.” Dayne’s hand settles on my back, stroking my fur, and my wolf swings back around already snarling.

She did not give permission for him to touch her, and she makes it clear he’s stepping over the line… only he doesn’t drop his hand. If anything, he tightens his grip and his eyes dare me—dares my wolf to do something about it.

This time she doesn’t hold back. Lunging at him, the force of my wolf attack sends him falling onto his back.

Someone sucks in a sharp breath, and I feel movement behind me. But before she/I can turn, Dayne is rolling, attempting to pin me.

And then we’re fighting, rolling, growling, snarling, and all I can do, the human side of me at least is scrabble desperately to get a handhold on my wolf to stop her from ripping out Dayne’s throat.

I can’t say at what point my wolf stops trying to kill Dayne, and starts playing with him. Or maybe it’s him who's playing with my wolf side. I don’t know.

Only that our violent tussle ends after an extended wrestling match with Dayne gasping for breath, pinning me down.

Which is when I notice the pack has taken advantage of my distraction to return to the house and it’s just me and Dayne left in the clearing at the front of the house.

His eyes lock with mine. “Time to change.”

My wolf doesn’t like that. Not one bit. But each attempt to break free goes nowhere. Dayne’s hold on her—on me is too secure.

While I’m relieved there’s no longer anyone around for me to hurt, my wolf is ready to rip his throat out for getting the best of me.

“Playtime is over. Now I need to talk to you—your human side.” Dayne’s voice is firm, as unflinching and unbreakable as the hold he has on me.

Playtime? Is he being serious? I can smell enough of his blood lingering in the air to know I’ve left him with more than a few claw marks. And he’s calling this playtime?

I growl, low. Vicious.

He gazes back at me, unperturbed. “I’ll give you two minutes then I’m tossing you in the lake. You can decide if you’d rather have wet fur or wet skin.”

I feel my wolf’s surprise at his words.

While I love water, my wolf side—not so much. I guess that hasn’t changed. Though how Dayne knew, I have no idea.

I pencil it down as yet another thing about me he shouldn’t know. If he doesn’t kill me for attempting to attack Savannah, I’ll have to remember to ask him about it.

I sense my wolf’s hesitation. She doesn’t believe Dayne will do it.

But me? I know better. And not just because I’ve had personal experience. He isn’t bluffing.

He’ll do it.

“One minute,” he says, coolly, his muscles straining as he uses all of his strength to stop my sudden lunge to break free. I doubt any other wolf would have been able to hold my wolf back.

For a long moment, nothing happens and I wait to see what my wolf will do. Now that she’s free, will she be so willing to give up her freedom and retreat inside me?

The change sweeps over me so suddenly one minute I’m a wolf, and the next, I’m a naked human girl again, still pinned beneath Dayne, but aware, he eased his body away enough to not interfere with my shift.

I stare at him in silence, and then the enormity of what’s just happened hits me. I shifted and my crazed wolf didn’t kill anyone.

No one died. Because Dayne refused to let it happen.

The utter relief I feel is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Dissolving into tears, I bury my face in Dayne’s neck.