33 Fate of a She-Wolf

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Ryker

Sometimes, being an alpha is about dark deeds. It means being the one who blackens his soul and creates his own nightmares.

My actions can't always be fair. It's not always about what is just, or moral, or kind. There are necessary evils that I commit to protect my pack and my family.

I am an alpha. I have never pretended to be anything else.

I stare at the small body with no little amount of remorse. I wish I could have spared her. I truly do. It feels hypocritical of me to hate Roland so much when this broken, cold body proves that I can be just as cruel to a young she-wolf.

But my relief outweighs my remorse.

"Put her facedown?" Hank's grim face says it all. He's just as sickened, but maybe more determined, more steadfast, in this latest violence. My wolf paces, shaking out his fur. He's always on edge, on guard. Only when we hold Mac does that ever-present sense of danger dim a little.

I carefully arrange her body on the bed with gloved hands. "No, faceup, it looks more natural."

Hank is the one who brought me the petition. Signed by several wolves all questioning the ascension of Bastian as my First Beta and Lola as his mate.

Cassie's rumors made more inroads than I had first suspected. So, she had to die. My wolf roils under my skin, just waiting to burst free. I killed her on feet, with my human hands. A few pills, forced down her throat and a knife on her wrists. It was fast, as merciful as possible, and my wolf is upset that he didn't get to sink his teeth into her jugular.

MateLess and orphaned, Cassie is the epitome of the perfect victim. In fact, had Roland focused his sick lust on her, I don't think anyone would have ever found out. Cassie, as young and vulnerable as she was, may have even welcomed the attention from a powerful male.

Focusing his attention and perverted Orders on Lola was greedy of Roland. Lola was never going to fade away or let him hold her prisoner in this place. She would have fought, and he would have had to kill her.

"It's a nice house," Hank mutters.

I grunt, absently. The house is nice. A modern log-home style, with huge glass windows offering panoramic views of a lake. Lots of privacy, with only a couple of other homes. Homes that Bastian is currently making sure are unoccupied.

Roland's lake house is only a few hours away from packlands. It's actually closer to my border than to the old Harbor territory. He and Lola would have only been a couple of hours away from me.

From Mackenzie.

I wonder if Roland realized that? If he had let me have Mac from the moment I stated my mate claim, would his crimes with Lola ever been revealed? Would he have brought Lola here to this place and had his twisted dream of a happily ever after?

Would Lola have escaped and come running to her friend, the Luna of the RueClaw?

Being Bastian's mate and Mackenzie's friend saved that little she-wolf, in the end.

"Houses are empty," Bastian's voice comes from the shadows. His feet, covered in paint-slips like the rest of us, make no noise as he carefully enters the house, refusing to look at Cassie's body. It was a harsh blow to him to be told that she needed to die. He's been pale, almost grey in the face, since I told him. And, it's not over. There's more to take care of. More I need to tell him.

One thing at a time.

"You think they're empty for the season?" I ask. I want to keep him focused on the task at hand.

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