Page 48 of Rabid
His eyes collide with mine, and he gives a single obvious nod of his head. A gesture—just like the one Britton gave me. I may not know the ins and outs of the pack, but I know a sign of respect when I see one, and the alpha just recognized me in a moment of honor in front of everyone.
It takes a lot not to fidget on the tree stump, but I manage to dip my head back at him, hoping that it’s the right thing to do. He wades into the river, stopping when he reaches the middle, and the glint in his eye I get before he turns to address the rest of the pack allows me to let out a slow breath of relief.
At least I didn’t fuck that up.
“Ruin Falls…” he shouts out, his voice commanding, deep, and hypnotic. “Why are we here?” His arms are loose at his side, the question cutting, lacking all fanfare and showmanship. I can tell as I watch him that what he’s doing is genuinely about the pack and has nothing to do with needing to defendhisplace in it. Tyran isn’t punishing some silly slight. He’s not flexing against subordinates to keep a stranglehold on his position or establishing dominance for dominance’s sake. Whatever is about to happen is vital and important.
“Betrayal,” a male from the gathering crowd yells out.
“Selfishness,” someone else declares.
“Trust,” a female shouts, and Tyran’s tawny gaze jumps to her.
“Trust,” he agrees, and Warrik shifts his weight as though that word physically just fell from the sky and pressed down against his shoulders. “Trust and loyalty are the very pillars of our foundation here. If we don’t have that, what do we have?”
Murmurs of agreement sound off all around me as the gathering wolves all nod their heads and spill affirmations from their mouths.
There’s a heavy tension in the air as Tyran pulls his eyes away from his pack and fixes his stare on Warrik. “You endangered the pack, yourself, and an untested wolf, all because you wanted a shot at claiming something before anyone else could,” he accuses.
Warrik growls quietly. “Seems that worked out well for you.” His eyes never stray from the fast current of the water he’s standing in.
Angry growls rumble through the gathered pack, a thick blanket of unease spreading out all around us with the beta’s impertinence. I expect Tyran’s body to tighten against the disrespect and for his anger to rise to the surface. I expect Warrik’s punishment to turn from bad to worse. But when I look over at the Ruin Falls alpha, all I see is hard disappointment. Warrik is clearly showing that he isn’t who Tyran thought he was, and I can practically feel the resignation settling in him as he stares icelike at the beta.
“To me, Beta,” Tyran commands, motioning for Warrik to move closer, leaving no room in his tone or body language for argument.
Warrik huffs out a breath and then moves closer to the center of the river where his alpha is standing. There’s no explanation of what’s going to happen, no declaration of rules, or lecture from the alpha to one of his pack members. Quietly, dangerously, they both start to circle one another, studying, assessing, and cataloging weaknesses.
Everything around us is quiet. It’s as though the birds and the insects are watching each step, each twitch of a muscle, as keenly as the rest of us are. The stunning and powerful waterfall at my back is the only thing that dares roar its encouragement for the battle that’s about to take place in its waters.
Warrik suddenly charges Tyran, wolf claws extended and intent on doing damage. I hold my breath, every inch of my body tight with worry and the need to keep Tyran from getting hurt. The rabid beast in me starts to rise to the surface, and before I can stop it, a menacing growl vibrates through my body.
People surrounding me are quick to take a step away, and as much as I agree with my wolf’s displeasure over what’s happening, I tamp down on her and keep my body locked in place.
Warrik swipes at his alpha, and then quicker than my eyes could track if I didn’t have my wolf, Tyran reaches out, wraps his large hand around his beta’s throat, and lifts him into the air. The snarl he lets out as he brings Warrik’s face closer makes my blood run cold. The moon’s light spills over everything, dipping the scene before me in a monochromatic hue that makes everything feel more brutal and vicious. Whimpers escape the mouths of the watching pack, and I see several of them lift their chins to expose their necks as though they’re submitting from the sidelines, happy to bend a knee or show their alpha their belly from just the sound of his wrath alone.
Pride wells in my chest, and I watch raptly as Tyran drops Warrik’s flailing body into the water and then shoves him under the swift rapids. Warrik fights, digging his claws into Tyran’s arms as he kicks and struggles to break the hold around his throat.
Tyran yanks him up, allowing Warrik to pull in a desperate breath of air. The beta’s face is red, furious, his blond hair plastered against his skin. But Tyran holds him easily, his superior strength no match for Warrik.
“The only way you’re getting out of this is if youtrust, just like you always should have,” Tyran tells him, and then quick as a striking whip, he shoves Warrik back under the water.
Warrik battles what’s being done to him with every ounce of strength he has. Gouges in Tyran’s arms baptize the river with his blood. But Warrik’s claws weaken, his hold on the alpha’s arm loosening and his splashing kicks in the water less powerful. Just when I think Tyran is going to finish the beta, he pulls him out again. Warrik coughs and hacks, furiously trying to dispel the water in his lungs.
“What will it be?” Tyran demands, his voice even and lethal, every inch of him radiating dominance and raw, pure power.
The beta spits in his face, and with lips pressed together, Tyran shoves Warrik back under the current. The struggle, the fight, the battle for breath is renewed and becomes even more vicious than before. The Ruin Falls alpha stands there, a strand of brown hair plastered to his forehead, holding the betraying beta under the water as though it’s nothing. His muscles are rigid from effort, but his face is calm, his eyes fixed on the image of Warrik just under the surface.
The pack continues to watch with anxious intensity, while Reap stands off to the side, face grim and hands trembling at his sides. Above us, the moon seems to watch, her light caught on the torrent of the waterfall as it feeds into the river’s merciless hold.
The splashes around the two males get smaller. Warrik’s movements slow, becoming jerkier and less purposeful. There’s a part of me that feels bad that the beta is enduring this punishment because of me, but just as quickly as that feeling surfaces, another part of me shoves it away.
There’s no room in wolf life for empathy when it comes to weakness.
What Warrik didwasweak. He set me up, tried to use trickery to take me for himself. The result is what it is, but if this beta was willing to do that to me, to break the rules all because he wanted something, what else is he willing to do? Who else would he have betrayed in order to take what he wanted? Like he so disrespectfully pointed out, Warrik’s actions may have worked out for Tyran—and admittedly even me—but the root ofwhyhe did what he did is the real issue here.
I watch with the hard eyes of a dominant female who understands that weakness and cowardice, selfishness and dishonorable intentions, those things can become a plague in a pack. I saw the sickness fester within Twin Rivers, and I understand the need to cut it out like a cancer. I wish someone had stopped Burke—challenged him for his cowardly and selfish acts.
With each passing second, Warrik’s movements grow more sluggish. Tyran gives him two more chances to submit, to trust and stop fighting against his alpha, but he refuses. He fights to the end, until his arms and legs are floating unmoving in the current. Until air bubbles stop breaching the surface of the water where his face is submerged. Tyran holds him there for a minute more and then he releases the male and rises to his feet. The greedy grip of the river rapids yanks the body away, and I watch as the beta’s lifeless form is carried downriver as though the water itself is banishing him from the pack.
