Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 609

Chapter 609: Pack Of Wolves - 2

The West Pack was a pack of wolves—literally and figuratively.

Henry Nightshade had raised them with iron fists, believing cruelty forged loyalty, and that fear was the best kind of obedience.

Unknown to him, all he’d really done was breed monsters—ravenous, power-hungry beasts who learned to bare their teeth even to their own kind.

Now, those same wolves were turning on his son.

Asher’s breath came ragged as he braced himself against the wall. Blood leaked from his abdomen, and the scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the smoke that burned his lungs. The assassins closed in, circling like vultures over prey that refused to die.

He tried reaching through the mindlink again.

Jeremiah! he called, forcing the link open with sheer willpower.

But there was nothing. The connection snapped back like a whip, making his head pound. Someone, or rather, something, was blocking him.

He gritted his teeth. No way in hell was him dying like this.

The only choice left was to escape this room. The more he stayed inhaling the smoke, the weaker he became. It was even a miracle he was still on his feet, but he guessed it was adrenaline doing his job. No way in hell was he dying this way.

The assassins sensed his intent and made sure to herd him further from the exit. When one of them swung again, Asher sidestepped and slashed upward with his claws. He teared through the man’s arm, and blood sprayed.

But the second one took advantage, plunging a silver dagger into his side. The pain was blinding, but Asher used it, grabbed the assassin’s head, and ripped through his abdomen in one brutal motion.

His intestines spilled out causing him to scream loudly. The other two turned at once, distracted, and Asher ran.

Asher didn’t make it far before a dagger whistled through the air, grazing his back. The silver burned him, but he didn’t stop. He burst into the hallway, breathing hard, only to collide with a solid chest.

Roman.

"Hey," Roman began with a grin, "I was about to—" His words cut short as his eyes caught the blood soaking Asher’s torso.

His expression changed instantly. "What the hell—"

Before Asher could answer, one of the assassins stepped out from the smoky doorway, and threw a dagger.

Roman caught it mid-air, smirking—then hissed when the silver burned his hand. "Son of a—those fucking bastards!" He flung it away and grabbed Asher’s arm.

"Didn’t they attack a little too early?" he demanded as they ran.

Asher coughed out a bitter laugh, "Desperate rats do desperate things." Ezra’s words echoed grimly in his head.

The hallway stretched ahead, eerily empty. The noise from the ongoing celebration outside covered every sound of their struggle. No one would hear them even if they screamed.

Roman slowed, glancing around. "This is bad. We need to—"

Figures appeared from the far end of the corridor, cloaked and armed.

Roman turned to the other side, and more assassins emerged, cutting them off completely.

"Oh, great," Roman muttered, annoyed, "We’re surrounded."

Asher pushed away from him, forcing his posture straight despite the blood dripping from his wounds. He wouldn’t give these killers the satisfaction of seeing weakness.

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