Hayley's fear evaporated as her anger boiled.
“You,” she snapped at the circling she-wolves. “I know you. I saw you that night.”
The three wolves glared malevolently at her.
“Grayson fucked you, all three of you,” Hayley spat, taking a step forward. “Are you his females? Are you part of his harem?”
The wolves snarled at her, and she saw the flash of shame and anger in their eyes. Hayley frowned in confusion. Had she misconstrued the events of that night?
“I don't want to hurt you,” Hayley said, her tone softening. “But I won't let you hurt me either.”
She squared her shoulders and said, “I'm going to walk away now. Leave me alone. I just want to get home, and be alone.”
Dragging a shaky breath into her lungs, Hayley started to walk. She walked steadily, resisting the urge to break into a panicked run.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the three wolves were following her silently, their teeth bared in aggression. They were going to attack her.
With a cry, Hayley turned to run but she stumbled and tripped. As she fell to the ground, Hayley saw the wolves coming at her, their sharp fangs glinting as they pounced.
Just before Hayley covered her head with her hands, she thought she saw a caped figure galloping towards her.
“Oh no you don't!” a strident female voice shouted. “Shoo! Scram! Scat! Leave the poor girl alone. Bad, bad wolves!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Grayson stared at the large, slavering black wolf in front of him. Strom snarled at him and lunged again.
Swiftly, Grayson ducked and watched the black wolf smash into the tree behind him. Grayson hadn't shed his human form. He still held out a tiny sliver of hope that Strom would agree to release the human women he'd kidnapped. If Strom released the humans, Grayson would simply retreat with his wolves. He wasn't here to challenge Strom for his pack. Heck, he didn't want another dysfunctional, disloyal pack. He never wanted to take over the Silverfangs pack but he couldn't let his friend down. Asher Ronski had died to save his pack. There was something rotten at the core and Asher had hoped that Grayson would be able to heal and unify his pack.
Grayson had enough problematic wolves on his hands. If he defeated Strom, he would become the new alpha of the Red Razor wolves.
“Strom,” Grayson said again. “Let the humans go. Release those women, and this fight ends. You keep your pack, your wolves.”
Strom bared his fangs at him. His eyes were blood red, the beast maddened beyond reason.
Grayson glanced at the four human females. Their faces were stained with dried tears and blood, but their eyes glimmered with desperate hope. One of them mouthed two words to him: thank you.
Grayson turned to Strom, and shifted effortlessly to wolf form. A majestic white wolf watched the black wolf with pale, icy blue eyes.
Grayson lowered himself to a crouch as Strom charged at him. He flew forward, his jaws aiming for Strom's throat. His teeth closed around the black wolf's neck but Strom reared up and managed to shake him off.
Grayson rolled away just in time as claws slashed down. Strom kept attacking in a blind rage, his crazed wolf baying for the blood of his enemy.
Grayson knew that if he lost the fight, Strom wouldn't simply take over his pack. He would slaughter all the Sentinel wolves and their families. Strom wasn't a true alpha. He was a slave to his greed and lust. A good alpha would put his pack before himself. But Strom put his ego and his lust before everything else.
Grayson growled in pain when Strom bit down on his leg. He kicked out but Strom clamped down harder, tearing through muscle and tendon.
With a vicious swipe across Strom's face, Grayson freed himself and stumbled away. Blood pooled at his feet and he saw Strom's eyes glow brighter at the sight and scent of fresh blood.
Grayson looked up and saw the grim faces of his Beta and lieutenants. Scott, Ari and the other lieutenants glanced pointedly at the human women and nodded at him. Whatever happened to him, the Sentinel wolves would rescue those four human women and return them to their families. They would finish what he started. The Sentinels would not let him down.
Grayson stared at Strom, and saw no trace of humanity left in those glowing red eyes. They were wolf shifters. There was a wolf inside the human, but the human was also inside the wolf. If they let their baser, animal urges overrule their human instincts and sensibilities, they would no longer be shifters. They would become monsters, beasts that preyed on the weak and vulnerable.
The Red Razor wolves should never have allowed their alpha to commit all those atrocities. Some members of the pack even condoned the violence and brutality. The Red Razor pack was a damaged pack, led by an unstable, barbaric alpha.
If Grayson took over the pack, he would have his work cut out for him. Whoever said being Alpha was an easy job had no idea what he was talking about. No wonder Scott didn't want to be Alpha. The guy knew exactly what being Alpha of a pack entailed. And that was why Scott would make a great Alpha.
Grayson turned when he heard a cry. One of the she-wolves was staring straight at him and pushing her claws into the human woman's neck.
It was a threat.
Stop now, or she dies.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hayley looked up and saw a little old lady standing between her and the three wolves. The old woman's wiry silver hair stuck out at all angles from under her pointed hat.
“Not leaving, eh? Looks like I'll have to beat you off with my broomstick!” The feisty old woman smirked.
Hayley scrambled to her feet and saw the old woman pull out what looked like a matchstick from her bag. That didn't look like a broomstick at all.
“Ma’am,” Hayley said in an urgent whisper and tried to pull the brave old lady back. She couldn't bear it if this sprightly, petite grandmother got hurt because of her.
The old woman winked at Hayley. “Don't worry, dear. I never leave home without Boris.”
“B-Boris?” Hayley's eyes darted in all directions. “Where's Boris?” she whispered hopefully. Boris sounded like a big, strong bodyguard. But she saw no one else around.
The old lady grinned. “Boris is right here!” With a deft flick of her wrist, the tiny stick in her hand became a sturdy broomstick.
“Go, Boris!” the woman yelled. “Whack their behinds! Teach these naughty wolves a lesson!”
Hayley ducked as Boris, the broomstick, whizzed through the air and chased the three she-wolves deep into the woods. Sharp, smart slaps and thwacks could be heard as Boris cheerfully carried out his mistress's command and taught the three wolves a lesson they wouldn't forget anytime soon.
Finally, the old lady snapped her fingers and Boris darted out from between the trees and flew to her side.
“Well done, Boris,” the woman said, patting the broomstick fondly. She squinted to Hayley and tut-tutted. “What are you doing out here all by yourself? It's not safe. You should be home, not wandering the streets at this time,” she said sternly.
Hayley gave a jerky nod. “Yes, Ma’am, I...”
“No, no,” the woman chuckled. “Not Ma’am. My name is Yasmin Yager. But everyone calls me Yaya.”
“Yaya...”
“You don't recognize me, do you?” Yaya went on, patting her black pointed hat and fussing with her cape. “I live on your street. In fact...”
“Oh!” Hayley gasped and slapped her forehead. She should have recognized that cape. “Oh! I did see you, once. You were rushing out of your house. I couldn't see your face, but I saw your cape...”
“It's not a cape! It's a cloak. This is a witch's cloak!” Yaya threw out her arms and twirled round so quickly Hayley grew a little dizzy just watching her. She spun away like a top and crashed noisily into Boris. Grabbing her trusty broomstick for support, Yaya righted herself and huffed, “I'm a witch, not a su
perhero!”
“You are my hero,” Hayley replied earnestly. “You saved me.”
“Ah. Well, I'm just being a good neighbor.” Yaya dusted her cloak and canted her head at Hayley. “You're the new neighbor. Your house is right between Grayson's and mine.”
Hayley could only nod dumbly. She was living next door to a werewolf and a witch.
Yaya whistled and Boris glided smoothly over to her side. “Come on,” she told Hayley. “I'll give you a ride home.”
“A r-ride?” Hayley stammered. “You mean...”
“Yup. This is my ride.” Yaya smiled proudly at her hovering broomstick. “I'm a witch. Haven't you seen a witch on a broomstick before?”
“As a matter of fact, I haven't. But one of my ex-colleagues was a witch,” Hayley added hastily. “She gave me a scented candle and told me to meditate in front of it.” Hayley bit her lip. “That was just after my divorce. She said it would help me cleanse my aura and balance my chakras.”
Yaya rolled her eyes. “All these New Age witches,” she muttered dismissively. “They don't practice real magic any more,” Yaya snorted. “They think riding around on a broomstick is too old-fashioned. They don't even dress like witches these days!” Yaya pointed at her tall, black hat. “It is an honor to don a witch's hat. But what do these New Age witches wear? Flowers in their hair and gemstones around their necks! Pffffft! Why would a witch want to dress like a bridesmaid?”
Hayley smiled weakly. “Well...”
“Hmph!” Yaya took a deep breath and cut off her tirade. She clambered onto her broomstick and raised a brow at Hayley. “What are you waiting for? Hop on!”
Hayley scrambled on board. She gripped the bristles nervously as the broomstick rose into the air. Boris jerked violently and began to tilt until Hayley and Yaya were hanging upside down.
Yaya held on fast to her hat and yelled, “Don't grab the bristles! They're very sensitive, like a cat's whiskers! Hold on to the handle.”
“Oops, sorry!” Hayley released the bristles immediately.
Once they were upright again, Yaya glanced at Hayley over her shoulder and said, ““Hold on tight, it's going to be a wild ride.” She chuckled and added in a conspiratorial whisper, “You have ridden a long, hard rod before, haven't you?”
“It's been a while, a long while actually. And those rods weren't quite so big,” Hayley answered with a straight face.
Yaya slapped her thigh and guffawed. “All right then, up, up and away!” She tucked one fist under her armpit and punched the sky with her other fist, assuming a superhero stance.
Hayley saw Boris turn slightly and arch a brow at Yaya. She knew that broomsticks didn't have eyebrows, or eyes for that matter—but that broomstick definitely did raise a brow and roll his eyes at his mistress.
Yaya winked at Hayley and whispered, “Only Boris is allowed to have delusions of grandeur. He thinks he's a noble steed.”
Hayley nodded, keeping her expression carefully blank. For a broomstick, Boris was rather temperamental and sensitive. She didn't want to say anything that could offend him or hurt his feelings.
Yaya leaned down and patted the side of the quivering broomstick. “Get us home now, will ya?” Straightening up, Yaya whooped and pretended to lasso the moon. “Yee-ha! Let's go, Boris! Giddy-up!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grayson snarled, his eyes flashing. No one, absolute nobody, threatened him or his pack.
He remembered Strom's threatening words to Hayley: “After I paint the woods red with the blood of the Sentinels, I'll come and collect you, my pet.”
It wasn't just an empty threat. Strom had every intention of taking Hayley against her will. He had attacked her in that alley, and if Grayson and Ari hadn't arrived in time…
The image of Hayley's pale, terrified face flashed before his eyes. Her bright green eyes glimmered with tears and the echo of her scream pierced his heart like a knife. Grayson growled at the sudden stab of pain and fury.
No! He would not let Strom hurt another innocent human. He would make sure that Strom never touched Hayley again.
It was time to finish this once and for all.
Grayson charged at Strom, aiming for the jugular. Strom slashed at him, gouging his claws into his side. Grayson didn't flinch. He went after Strom with a vengeance, heedless to the blood oozing from the deep gash in his side.
Strom reared up, confident of his victory. He was going to rip Grayson's guts out and feed them to his wolves.
Grayson saw his chance. Quick as lightning, he struck.
The two huge wolves tumbled to the ground in a blur of matted fur and claws. They wrestled and attacked relentlessly, each fighting to gain the upper hand.
Strom snarled and snapped his jaws viciously at Grayson. His teeth sank into Grayson's shoulder and he bit harder, pushing his fangs deep into Grayson's flesh. Grayson rolled and tried to throw Strom off, but Strom refused to let go. His red eyes glowed with pure hate and hunger. His mouth was filled with Grayson's blood and Grayson saw Strom bare his bloodstained teeth in a victorious smile.
With a growl, Strom tore a chunk of flesh from Grayson's shoulder. Despite the agony, Grayson didn't make a sound. He staggered back and shook his head to clear it quickly. He focused on the enemy and charged again. If he slowed down or hesitated, he would be dead. He had to keep attacking.
The forest whirled and spun around them. Grayson ignored the sounds, scents and movement around them. The Sentinels, the Red Razor pack, the trees were nothing but a blur to him. There was only one wolf in his sights.
Strom's black fur was matted with blood. Grayson didn't care whose blood it was. He was going to finish this fight. He would free those human women, and keep Hayley safe from a ravening, brutal predator like Strom.
Blood dripped into Grayson's eyes as he stumbled sideways. Strom was equally weakened by blood loss, and his blows weren't as quick and forceful as before. They were both exhausted, with grievous injuries and wounds all over their bodies.
Grayson and Strom faced each other, growling menacingly. They charged at the same time, and slammed into each other in midair.
Grayson finally pinned Strom to the ground and bit hard into his neck. Strom bellowed in pain and tried to fight Grayson off, but this was a fight to the death. Grayson wasn't fighting for himself. He had to finish this, for his pack, for those humans. For Hayley.
Grayson pushed his fangs deeper into Strom's neck and clamped his jaws tightly. Strom's legs kicked out once, twice and his body became still.
Spitting out the blood from his mouth, Grayson staggered away, leaving Strom's lifeless body in a pool of dark, red blood.
Turning away, Grayson walked silently away from the clearing. He didn't lead the Red Razor wolves in a howl to mark the passing of their old Alpha and to claim leadership over them. The unified call of the wolves was a show of respect for the fallen Alpha who had fought bravely and fairly for his pack.
Strom didn't deserve such an honor. Asher Ronski had been buried before his blood had dried on the ground. But Strom's body would be left to turn cold and stiff out in the open.
Grayson would order the Red Razor lieutenants to cremate Strom's body the following day, but now, they would leave the body exposed. Strom didn't deserve any dignity in death.
One by one, the Red Razor wolves dropped their heads and followed Grayson. They turned their backs on Strom's body and walked away without looking back.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hayley reached out and touched the tip of a twinkling star. This was so amazing! She was soaring through the night sky, cruising through an ocean of sparkling stars and misty clouds on a broomstick! She had to be dreaming.
She snuggled against a fluffy cloud and mumbled, “It's just my pillow.” Of course it was just her pillow. She was in bed, sleeping soundly and dreaming a strange, whimsical dream. Her mind was half
awake, flitting between reality and a strange, silent dream world. She remembered flying on a cantankerous broomstick with Yaya and landing safely in front of her house. She remembered showering and crawling into bed. And then her imagination took hold of her memories and fashioned them into a meandering, lucid dream.
Hayley was aware of a sudden change in the atmosphere. She was still dreaming, but her dream had veered off in another direction.
She opened her mouth in a silent scream when she realized that she was no longer astride the broomstick. She was falling, plummeting like a stone towards the ground.
The shadows writhed and twisted into tall, gnarled trees around her. The forest spun and churned around her, making her see strange, shifting, monstrous shapes.
The world stopped spinning suddenly, and Hayley stumbled out into the clearing. She couldn't see them, but she knew she was in the company of wolves.
An enormous, slavering black wolf crouched in front of her. As she stared into the wolf's glowing red eyes, the wolf reared up and pounced on her. Hayley backed away in a panic and found herself pinned against a brick wall. She was in the narrow alley, and she looked up into the cruel, contorted face of Strom.
Strom was speaking to her but she couldn't hear what he was saying. She tried to fight him, but the air seemed to have thickened to sludge around her, making her movements painfully slow. Strom's leering grin widened, and she saw his gleaming, long fangs descending towards her neck.
His face twisted and became half wolf, half man. Hayley turned and saw a pack of white wolves running towards her. The white wolves lunged themselves at Strom and splashes of crimson bloomed on the snowy white fur of the wolves.
The walls fell away and Hayley found herself back in the woods. She saw a black wolf and an imposing white wolf circling each other. Hayley met the white wolf's striking blue eyes and a single word left her lips. “Grayson...”
Alpha Next Door (Wolves Hollow Book 1) Page 4
