A Rejected Wolf and a Court of Ash (Eden and Azriel) novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Eden

22%

The entire clearing goes silent, and I know exactly why. Disrespecting the Alpha family is suicide, and my mother knows it.

Looks pass between the pack members.

“Speaking like that to the Alpha…”

“Not good.”

“How dare she?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time…”

It’s true this isn’t the first time. My mother is known for getting drunk and opening her big mouth. We’re usually excused but on an important day like this?

I’m trembling inside as much as on the outside.

“Do you have a death wish, Miss Felicity?” Marcus‘ voice thunders through the night air.

I look at my mother, hoping she will come to her senses and bow her head at the former Alpha.

She doesn’t.

My mother glares right back at the Alpha, and a shot of ice–cold fear hits my heart.

This is the end of us both. You don’t challenge your Alpha like this. An Alpha commands respect, and if one pack member gets away with this kind of disrespect, it would signal weakness to the rest of the pack.

My mother and I are dead, and it only becomes more clear when my mother speaks.

“I’m not afraid of you!” She makes a “Tssk” sound and then shifts on her unsteady, drunken legs.

Why is she so stupid?! I feel powerless. All I want is for her to be quiet. I pray that she will come to her senses and bend the knee, but she continues.

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“The Valentine family shouldn’t rule this pack. You’re all just a bunch of weaklings horny for money. Controlled by the pack elders, so you will gain more of it!”

Marcus freezes, and so does everyone else. No one has ever had the guts to suggest the pack hierarchy is corrupted. I’ve heard rumors, but for my mother to say it out loud?!

I turn helplessly towards Logan.

He doesn’t look cold now, but there is conflict swimming in his blue eyes. Hesitation. His mouth forms a thin line as my mother sways with a lopsided grin plastered to her salacious lips; she thinks she got away with challenging the most powerful wolf family again.

Her hubris will get her killed.

Marcus turns to his son. “What the hell are you waiting for? You’re the Alpha now–do something! Punish them for speaking ill about the Valentine family! Why are you hesitating like a useless pup?!”

My hands clamp over my heart, and guilt grips me.

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10:22 Mon, 23 Jun

Chapter 10

22%

4.39) 11

I shouldn’t have brought my drunk mother here. I should have left her at home. It will be my fault when my mother lays

dead and our blood colors the white snow red!

“Do I have to do everything myself…” Marcus growls before throwing away his expensive suit and shape–shifting into a large white wolf.

And the old Alpha doesn’t hesitate like his son.

With a snarl, he jumps forward with his canine teeth gleaming in the torchlight when they tear through my mother’s skin. She screams in agony, a sound that will be imprinted into my brain for years to come.

Piece by piece, my mother is being torn apart, skin from her body, flesh from her bone, until it’s just her desperate hand trying to reach for me before it falls lifeless to the ground. The pack members stare, some in shock, others with approval. I’m paralyzed by the horror.

I did nothing.

Said nothing.

Just watched.

Then Marcus‘ wolf turns his attention to me. His eyes are colder than the snow, ruthless as he prowls closer. This is it. He will tear me apart too, limb by limb, until there is nothing left of my miserable existence.

I brace for it. Prepare to die with my head bowed and eyes closed when Marcus snarls. His paws are heavy in the snow, and then he lunges, and then-

He whimpers.

I open my eyes and stare in shock when I find Marcus suspended in the air by an invisible force. He is floating there until suddenly, his bones break and crunch. Those growls disappear, and then the only sounds leaving him are ones of agony.

Is that…magic?

I’m not sure what I’m witnessing. No one is either. Everyone is staring while footsteps sound in the snow. Even, strolling, like whoever is coming doesn’t give a fuck they are walking straight into a sacred ceremony.

The pack elders as mumbling among themselves, most of them wearing faces of horror. Our shaman, a werewolf with insane magical powers, is staring at whoever is approaching us. They are behind me.

I turn around, and there he is.

No brown eyes. No human features at all. All perfection–like a person airbrushed by a filter–is walking through the snow. I gawk, meeting a pair of purple eyes and a face so beautifully perfect it hurts to look at.

Azriel.

He is walking gracefully, like an aristocrat of old, with his fingers clenched together. I suspect that’s what is keeping Marcus. frozen in the air, and Azriel keeps him there as he walks forward, past me until he is standing only a few feet away from the pack elders.

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