“Do you know who your alpha is?” she demanded. “The kind of werewolf he is? He takes and takes and takes. He steals. He cheats. He thinks that the world owes him something. It doesn’t. You don’t either. He’s not an alpha. Not a true one. Sure, he's strong. Sure, he’s powerful. But he can’t lead. He shouldn’t lead.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Was she right? Had Adrian been so wrapped up in his life and his problems that he hadn’t realized just who was leading him?
She cleared her throat and plunged ahead. “Do you know he drugged and raped me? Repeatedly. He violated me, humiliated me. He showed me a complete lack of respect. If you won’t stand with me against him, fine. That’s your choice, but just know who it is you’re siding with. Melvin isn’t an alpha. He’s an arrogant asshole who deserves nothing. Not your loyalty, not your strength, not your devotion. Nothing at all.”
Adrian and the other werewolves said nothing.
The sounds of the banging from the skirmish downstairs halted. Alexis raced down the stairs. Adrian and the other werewolves trailed behind her. The living room and dining room looked as if a tornado had swept through, but neither of the werewolves was in sight. Alexis rushed through the kitchen to the backyard.
The two werewolves were fighting as if to the death. Adrian’s stomach clenched as Alexis transformed into a wolf and entered the fray. Melvin did seem to want her and even tried to mount her at once. Alexis was clearly weak and hurting.
Adrian cleared his throat. “She can’t fight. She’s one of us too. Let Melvin handle the guy, whoever he is. We need to protect Alexis, even from herself.”
The others nodded. They transformed into their wolves, exited the house, and surrounded her.
As he figured would be the case, Alexis was not happy at all. She tried to break through their circle, but they did just enough to keep her in place. At one point, she collapsed and short thereafter stood and howled. It pained him to see her so weak.
From her obvious worry and fright, Alexis loved the werewolf fighting Melvin. Adrian found himself hoping the werewolf would be victorious, and it looked as if he might kill Melvin, but then Melvin knocked him down, and his head hit a rock.
Bleeding, wounded, limping, Melvin ran away.
The other wolves trailed after him, and Adrian did too, last of all. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as the werewolf rushed over to Alexis. He turned to human and cradled her. She resumed her human form too, and the love they shared seemed so bright and true.
And so very uncomplicated.
That was what Adrian wanted. That was what he would have.
For now, though, Melvin Hayes remained an issue. If what Alexis said was true, he was not fit to be alpha, and Adrian would see to it that Hazel Park would not remain under his terrible claws for long.
His Discouraged Howl
Adrian Hawkins' life changes when he rushes off to save his close friend Alexis Luna only to learn that his alpha isn't who Adrian thought he was. It is possible to hope for a better future when the werewolves are acting more like animals than humans?
Chapter 1
In all of his twenty-seven years, Adrian Hawkins had never hated himself as much as he did right now. He had sat back, fighting with himself, wondering if his dear friend Alexis Luna had the right of it. She claimed that their alpha was a wicked, terrible man, and yet, Adrian hadn’t been willing to step in and help her and another werewolf, whom she clearly loved, fight against the alpha.
Melvin Hayes was the alpha of Hazel Park. Honestly, Adrian had never liked the guy, but to make an active show of force against an alpha was never done lightly. In fact, it would suggest that Adrian wanted to be alpha himself, and nothing could be closer to the truth.
Now, Adrian and a few other werewolves were trailing behind the wounded, bleeding, limping alpha. Alexis had run away from the pack to Detroit, while they returned home.
Every step away from Alexis had Adrian wanting to turn back, to ensure she was all right, but the werewolf who had fought alongside her was tending to her. He didn’t want to intrude. Besides, he had a much larger issue to deal with, that of his alpha. If even a fraction of what Alexis had said was true, then Melvin had to be removed from power.
Which meant Melvin had to die. It was the way of the werewolves. Alphas remained in power until they died or were killed.
By the time night fell, those who had gone on the trek to Detroit had arrived back in Hazel Park. Melvin hadn’t howled or gestured or done anything at all to acknowledge them, not until one attempted to peel off and presumably go home. Then, Melvin growled, and the werewolf fell back into formation. As they crossed the threshold into one of Melvin’s many buildings—this one a rather over-the-top house for a man to live in all by himself—each turned back into his or her human self. It had been a risk to trek so far in their wolf forms, but they had to follow Melvin’s lead.
Adrian glanced at the others, pointedly not looking at Melvin. Alexis had given her speech in front of the whole pack. Did the others believe her? Adrian knew Alexis better than most. They had practically been neighbors. She had no reason to lie.
Melvin dragged himself over to a couch. No one made a move to help him, the others’ faces unreadable, indifferent masks.
“Get Garrison,” Melvin said through gritted teeth as he gingerly sat down.
No one moved.
“I said…” Melvin struggled to stand. His hand went to his stomach. The stench of decay already wafted through the room.
The alpha collapsed, missing the couch. Adrian couldn’t explain why he did it, but he approached the alpha, walking around the coffee table, and lifted the alpha’s hands. What had been a deep claw swipe must have worsened in their trek home, and now, his entrails were struggling to fall out.
Melvin reached up toward Adrian, who took a step back, bumped into the coffee table, and used his peripheral vision to return to his place in line beside the others. Together, they silently watched, somber witnesses to the death of their alpha, who wasted his last breaths muttering curses to them all, including Alexis.
But then, before his eyes, Adrian saw the top and the bottom of the terrible wound begin to heal. Werewolves could heal so much faster than humans, but could the alpha come back from such a deep wound?
And if the werewolf Alexis loved had been the cause of his death, would some of the werewolves feel the need to kill that werewolf to ascend to the rank of alpha for themselves? Werewolf politics were complicated, sometimes violent, and always unforgiving.
No. Alexis had been put through too much. Adrian would not allow her chance at happiness to be thwarted. If anyone deserved to find love after the terrible atrocities she had suffered at the hands of this asshole before him, it was Alexis.
Stiffly, Adrian glanced at the other werewolves. None acknowledged him as he broke rank again. This time, he grabbed a pillow from the couch. He returned to Melvin, knelt beside him, and placed the pillow over his face. Perhaps not the most humane way to murder someone, but Adrian had already observed too much violence that day.
Melvin’s attempt to push Adrian away were feeble and pathetic, and soon, the alpha still.
Did Adrian feel any guilt or remorse for having killed his alpha? No, no he did not.
Chapter 2
Death of an alpha could be a peaceful event, all things considering. If the alpha died from natural causes, the son or heir would become the next alpha. The heir would be in case the werewolf had no children, and the heir could be a daughter in some packs.
If the alpha died from a show of force, a battle to the death, a challenge for the title, then the victor would assume that title.
This had been none of those.
“I lay no claim to the title of alpha,” Adrian said, his voice oddly detached. A low roaring sounded in his ears.
“You…” One of the other werewolves shook his head. Roberto Perry was a man of quiet strength. Whereas Adrian was muscular to the point of nearly being a bod
ybuilder, this man looked almost timid beside him, even though that was far from the case.
“It was not a battle,” Adrian said.
“He might have died from his wounds,” a female said. Zoe Wood was one of their fiercest fighters.
“He might not have, and you all heard Alexis,” Adrian snapped.
Joel Hall nodded. “My sister would never want to be alone around him. I never asked her why and always stayed close when I could. I wonder if he tried those stunts with others.”
Adrian gritted his teeth. Just because someone was alpha did not mean that he should have free reign to do as he wished to anyone and everyone. Why did he and Alexis have to drift apart? Why couldn’t she have confided in him?
Most likely because she knew what he would have done. Adrian would have confronted Melvin. The alpha would have attempted to kill him outright, or else they would have battled, and Melvin had killed before.
“I want to never speak of this,” Adrian said, and he marched out the door and did not stop walking until he entered his apartment.
Perhaps a shower would settle him some, but the water in the basin turned red. He did not know how or where or when he had gotten blood on himself, but he could not wash himself thoroughly enough. Adrian nearly rubbed himself raw trying to get clean. Finally, he made his way to bed, collapsing onto it naked.
Sleep did not come for hours, and even then, his slumber was broken and restless. The sound of chaos in the neighborhood had him walking over to his window. He pulled aside the curtain to observe several fistfights in front of his building. Glass shattered from a store up the street. Loiters? Really?
Melvin, who hadn’t been a wonderful alpha even before all of this had come to light, hadn’t had the pack under tight reign. He allowed them to do as they wished, but they had never been this savage, this selfish before.
Adrian shoved his long legs into jeans that hung low on his hips. Not bothering with a short or anything for his feet, he left his apartment. People were clearly panicking, worry and fear etched in their faces. The scent of fire and smoke burned his nostrils. Arson, too?
How could they have dissolved so quickly into anarchy? Adrian didn’t understand, and honestly, he didn’t want to share their reasoning.
Chapter 3
It didn’t take Adrian long to round up a few of the werewolves who had witnessed Melvin’s death. “We cannot allow such chaos to go unchecked,” he said.
Dallas Chase glared at Adrian. “And what should we do?”
“Gather the people. Talk to them. Calm them down.” Only because he had heard the sound of the firetruck before he gathered the werewolves into his apartment did he not mention the fire.
“That isn’t our place,” Dexter Burke pointed out.
“If not us, then who?” Adrian demanded. “Don’t be a coward.”
“You said it yourself,” Dallas said stubbornly. “You aren’t the alpha. Clearly, someone has to do it.”
Adrian rolled his eyes. “Let’s stop comparing dicks, guys. None of us are cut out to be alpha.”
“Are you serious? Anyone would be better than that piece of trash you killed!” Dexter shouted.
“You shut your mouth,” Adrian said, shoving a finger in Dexter’s face.
Dexter knocked it away. “You want to fight me?” he asked, puffing out his chest.
Adrian shook his head. “No,” he said evenly, but he did not take a step back. He was not a coward. “Right now, this isn’t important. People are hurting. Businesses are being affected—”
“The people should stay in their damn homes,” Dallas said.
“And businesses have insurance,” Dexter said.
“See? You two are only concerned about yourselves, not our pack.” Adrian had never felt so angry before. He wanted to rage, to let his wolf out. Yes, he even was tempted to fight them.
Wolves, by nature, tended toward fighting first, not words, not peace. That was why a strong, capable alpha was important to try to keep the pack in line. Then again, some alphas were strong, powerful, and prone to violence, and they succeeded by taking over cities and even other packs. Adrian never understood that, and he never would.
“You aren’t the judge of us,” Dallas said.
“He should be,” Dexter said. “Because I need him to witness me killing you so I can be alpha.”
Adrian gaped at them. “Are you two serious right now?” he demanded. “A trial to the death has to be public and before the entire assembly of the pack and—”
But already the two were growling as they shifted into their werewolves. Adrian had to act fast to move lamps and other items out of the way. The massive wolves made his spacious apartment seem too small.
The stench of blood quickly filled the air as Dallas sliced into Dexter’s nose, but Dexter responded by biting a chunk out of Dallas’s front left leg.
“You are going to kill yourselves,” Adrian snapped. “Both of you die, not just one. Is that what you want?”
They continued to ignore him, their bodies entangled, a mess of claws and teeth. It didn’t take long for more wounds to appear, but the first wounds had already healed.
The two bumped the couch, slamming it into the wall. Adrian tried to reach over to grab the painting that shook from its nails on the wall, but he wasn’t in time. Crash! Glass shattered everywhere.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Adrian said, doing his best to stay calm, a battle of his own that he was quickly losing.
It was impossible to tell who was winning out of Dallas and Dexter until Dexter had Dallas by the throat, pinning him to the ground, his paws at the back of his neck, ready to break it.
Only Adrian had had enough. He had played in the minor leagues for a bit, but his stint hadn’t panned out long term. Instead, he had taken up golf, and he used one of his golf clubs to smash into the back of Dexter’s head.
The wolf jerked to the side, shifting enough for Dallas to break free. He lunged at Dexter’s exposed throat, and there wasn’t enough time for Adrian to react. Dexter was dead.
But then, Dallas’s head rolled to the side at an awkward angle. Dexter must have broken the neck after all. Adrian stared down at the two dead werewolves. He waited and hoped that either of them would survive their wounds, but that was too much to ask for. Old age could kill a werewolf. Cancer. Violence. These deaths, though, could and should have been avoided.
Dexter, for being a bruiser of a werewolf, had been a prison guard. He always had to keep himself in tiptop shape because some inmates were werewolves, and he had to keep them at bay. Yes, it was possible, although not likely, for a werewolf to allow himself or herself for that matter go and pack on a few extra pounds. Dexter would work out every day in the gym for at least an hour.
The werewolf had had another side to him. He donated to the library all the time and helped to rebuild it after the roof had collapsed. His mother had died when he had been young, and she had been a librarian. It was around that time that he had started to train in the gym. He had channeled his grief into needing to strengthen his body as if that would keep the despair and sorrow away.
As for Dallas, well, that guy was another bruiser, and he honestly wasn’t the best of werewolves. He was a boxer and fought for a living. At times, he would wrestle. All of his life was fighting, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that his end had been so bloody.
All Adrian had wanted was their help to secure peace for the pack. Instead, they had only begotten more destruction and devastation. How long would this anarchy last?
Chapter 4
Four deaths, Adrian learned the next day. Four werewolves had killed each other in their attempt to take control over the pack. Four needless, pointless deaths.
It sickened Adrian that so many would quickly turn to that barbaric ritual. Why did they have to succumb to their basal instincts when it came to alpha? The anarchy alone was proof positive that they needed an alpha. They couldn’t do away with that, but a fight to the death? Yes, they were wolve
s and humans, but did the wolf side have to dominate this important aspect of their pack life?
Maybe that was too forward thinking of him, but he was desperate. The anarchy was so rampant that even the local human news stations were reporting on it. They couldn’t risk being exposed. That would only lead to even more chaos, disorder, and deaths. The humans could not be added to the equation at any costs, and if that meant that Adrian would have to step up, so be it.
Although his desire to be alpha was even less now than it had been previously, a feat he hadn’t thought would be possible.
After the deaths, Adrian had left the bodies in his apartment and tried to see where he could be most effective to stem back the rising panic. A fair number of the police force were werewolves, thankfully, but even as he tried to help them, there wasn’t much he could actually do. In fact, one of the officers had even said to him, “Hey, aren’t you a bank teller? Go home and count your greenbacks.”
Yes, Adrian worked at a bank, his father’s bank, actually. He had even started out as a teller during high school. His climb through the ranks had all been earned. His father was a strict man who did not believe in nepotism. Either you earned it, or you didn’t. He would hire the best person for every position, with no regard for age, race, religion, or if werewolf or human.
Hearing that coming from a cop wounded Adrian. At that point, night had fallen, so Adrian returned home to find that leaving the bodies there for so long had been a mistake. He grabbed them by their ankles and took them out back. Once a werewolf died, the body always took on its human form.
Once the bodies were hidden behind the dumpster, Adrian called the special number to reach a werewolf cop to explain what had happened. The female officer, Kiera Turner, sounded more than a little annoyed as she pressed him for details.
Protection (To Love And Defend Book 5) Page 2
