Alaric’s scream ripped through the air.
Mara stumbled back and vomited.
Alpha Sam stood tall, his breathing heavy.
“My wife is blind in the left eye… and now so are you. I told her I’d bring your eye back as a souvenir, you sick fuck.”
He punched Alaric again—hard—his knuckles cracking against bone.
The fury in the man’s eyes was primal. And I couldn’t blame him. Not one bit.
Then Sam looked around, scanning the remains of the battlefield.
“Where’s the treacherous Alpha of this place?” he asked, snarling.
I raised a hand, calming him.
“He’s dead,” I said. “My brother’s group got him. The bastard betrayed his own father so he could double-cross us too.”
As if on cue, Alpha Smirnov arrived, still shaken, led by two of our soldiers. He looked disheveled and raw, but alive.
The mome
