Page 27 of Full Moon
Chapter 13
Torben
Watchingmy mate fight and kill those two men is one of the hardest things I have ever done. The brutal efficiency with which she dispatched them still haunts me. And now, we stand before this so-called alpha, a pretender who dares to question my mate's word.
"Your betas are poorly trained," I declare, stepping forward but keeping a protective stance behind my mate. "My mate ripped them to pieces with barely any effort on her part." I can feel the heat of my anger rising. "Then again, she trained against a Kodiak and a basilisk for months." The moment I mention our training, the male's face pales. He stumbles back and sinks onto his throne, fear evident in his eyes.
"Who is your father?" he asks, his voice trembling as he stares at Feray.
"Claridon Jökull." The name leaves Feray's lips with a force that makes even my heart skip a beat. The power in her tone, the unmistakable dominance of an alpha.
The male's face drains of all color, and I see his hand shaking as it grips the armrest of his stolen throne. "Impossible. He's dead." He tries to smirk, but the expression falters.
A low, threatening growl builds in Feray's chest, and the room seems to grow colder. "And how do you know that?" Her voice is rough, her tail deadly still behind her.
"I..." He stutters, eyes darting around the room in a futile search for support.
A dozen wolves emerge from the shadows, but their presence does nothing to ease his obvious fear.
"Watch..." Diaval's hand grabs my shoulder, stopping me from stepping forward.
Feray shifts back to her fully human form, her bare feet making soft sounds on the wooden planks. Her gaze sweeps over the other wolves, commanding their attention. Then her white wolf rips free from her human body. Her beast is magnificent—larger and more imposing than any wolf in the hall. I watch with awe and pride as she swings her head side to side, and one by one, the wolves submit to her dominance, lying down in acknowledgment of her authority.
Pride swells in my chest as I witness my mate bring her father's pack to heel. Her eyes lock onto the alpha before her, and she advances with slow, deliberate steps. Her hackles rise along her spine and neck, making her look feral. If anyone had asked me months ago whether the terrified girl I met after her home burned would one day command a pack, I would have said hell would freeze over first. But here she stands, a true alpha, and I am in awe of her.
"Impossible!" The male's voice cracks as he launches himself out of the chair in a panic.
Feray doesn't hesitate. She lunges forward, her jaws snapping with a ferocity that sends chills down my spine. The man stumbles, falling back into his chair, scrambling to retreat further. The moment Feray's front paw touches the stairs leading to the dais, the other wolves rise in unison, their eyes locked on her, ready to follow her lead.
Diaval motions for us to move. We trail behind the dozen wolves, their presence an intimidating wave of muscle and fur. As Feray shifts back to her human form, still fully dressed, a collective gasp escapes from the onlookers, the alpha included.
His shock is palpable. She shouldn't be able to do that.
"What do you know of my father's death?" Feray demands, her voice cold and unwavering. She raises her hand, pointing a single finger at the alpha. The wolves around us respond to her movement, circling the alpha with a menacing growl that reverberates through the hall.
"Khal? If you would be so kind." Feray calls over her shoulder, her gaze never leaving the alpha.
Khal's shift is instantaneous. His basilisk form rises high above Feray from behind, his presence commanding absolute attention.
The guys and I move up behind Feray, our senses on high alert, awaiting the alpha's answer.
"A mage... He came here seeking the alpha," the current alpha stammers, his voice shaky. The scent of his fear saturates the air.
"To what end?" I interject. Feray's glare turns on me, her eyes a terrifying mix of wolfish amber and deadly red flecks. It's a warning I know better than to ignore.
"A benefactor wanted a wolven army. He didn't say what for," the alpha quakes.
"Where is the mage?" Easton asks.
The alpha's eyes dart away, his silence speaking volumes. "No..."
"Where is the mage?" Feray's voice transforms, each syllable a low, menacing growl.
"Never... He'll kill my family..." The alpha's plea is a fatal mistake.
Feray lowers her hand and draws in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Her muscles tense in her shoulders and back. Time itself seems to slow, almost stopping, just like that vampire had done. Except it's not magic that freezes me in my tracks—it's the shock of what my mate is about to do. Her right hand comes back, and as her fingers shift, claws suddenly adorn her fingertips.
"I'll see you in hell." With a swift, savage motion, her claws tear into the alpha's throat. Crimson sprays across the walls, splattering the wolves to her left. Some of the blood coats Diaval's suit. A frustrated roar escapes Feray's lips as she tilts her head back. Her pain-filled scream morphs into a howl, a haunting song of agony. The sound reverberates through the hall until her voice grows hoarse.
