THE ALPHA WHO COULDN'T HOWL

Chapter3

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*THE ALPHA WHO COULDN'T HOWL*

*Chapter 3: The Other Alpha*

"Well, well. Looks like the broken Alpha found his little human mate after all. Shame I found her first."

I knew that voice before I even saw him.

Rhys.

Rhys Calloway. Alpha of the North Ridge pack. Twenty-three. Built like a truck. The one my father told me to never turn my back on.

He stepped out of the trees on the other side of the river like he owned it. Black jacket, no shirt underneath even though it was raining. Wet hair. A smile that didn't reach his eyes. Two of his wolves behind him, hands in pockets, pretending to be casual.

He wasn't looking at Tyler's body. He was looking at Elara.

At her neck.

At my mark.

Elara was still on her knees in the mud, Tyler in her lap, her hand clutched around the back of her neck where it burned.

"Who the hell are you?" she screamed at him. Her voice was raw. Broken. "Who the hell are you to talk about me? My brother is dead! My brother is right here!"

The sight of her so shattered and shouting at an Alpha who could snap her in half made my chest rip open.

I moved. I didn't think. I just moved in front of her.

Mine. In front of me. Now.

"Don't look at her," I growled.

And my voice — God, my voice was not mine. It was low. Gravelly. Like two voices at once. Mine and my wolf's.

Rhys lifted an eyebrow. He looked almost delighted.

"Oh. It speaks. Or, sorry, it growls. I heard you couldn't even whimper tonight, Kael. Bonfire night, right? Whole town watched you choke. That true?"

Behind me, I felt Elara grab the back of my wet t-shirt. Her fingers were cold.

"Kael, who is he?" she whispered. "Why is he looking at me like that?"

"He's nobody," I said, loud enough for Rhys to hear. "Go back to your side of the river, Rhys. This is Silver Falls land. You have no business here."

"Business?" Rhys laughed. He stepped one foot into the water. The water didn't even move around him. "My business is dead in your lap, little Alpha. Or did you not look? Did you not see the mark on his neck? That's North Ridge work? No. That's sloppy work. We don't kill kids."

He said it so casually. Kids.

Elara flinched.

"There is nothing wrong with what you're saying, but you're lying," I snapped. My hands were fists. My claws were out fully now. I could feel them. "There is everything wrong with your pack being this close during a full moon. You killed him."

"I didn't," Rhys said. And for a second, he sounded almost honest. "But I know who did. Or what did."

He finally looked at Tyler. Really looked.

"He saw something he shouldn't have. On the bridge. About an hour ago."

My blood went cold.

The bridge. Where I sat. Where Elara found me.

"What are you talking about?" Elara said. She was shaking now, not just crying. The rain was pouring down her face, mixing with her tears. "What did Tyler see?"

Rhys's eyes slid back to her neck. To the faint mark that was getting darker by the second.

"He saw you, love."

The world went quiet except for the rain.

"What?" she whispered.

My father, Magnus, stood up slowly from the mud. His face was stone again, but his eyes were on Elara now. Not Tyler.

"Magnus," Jenkins warned quietly. "Don't."

"What did she do?" My father asked Rhys. His voice was low. Alpha to Alpha.

Rhys smiled. Slow. Like he was enjoying this.

"She glowed."

Elara let out a weird, broken laugh. "I did not glow. I don't glow. I'm human. I'm just... I'm just a waitress."

"You were not always just a waitress, were you, Elara Quinn?" Rhys said. His voice got softer. Almost gentle. It was worse than when he was mocking. "Your mother didn't work at the diner. She ran from us. Twenty years ago. From North Ridge. A white wolf. The only one."

My knees almost gave out.

White wolf.

White wolves were legend. Ghosts. Extinct. They were supposed to be able to hide their scent. To look human.

To have a howl that could wake dead packs.

I turned and looked at Elara. Really looked at her.

Her eyes. In the dark, with my eyes glowing, I could see it. A ring of silver around her brown irises. It wasn't there yesterday. It was there now.

"Elara," I whispered. "Your mom..."

"My mom died when I was eight!" she shouted at me. "She died in a car crash! Don't you talk about my mom!"

"She didn't die in a crash," Rhys said, almost sadly. "Your father told you that. She was taken back. She escaped again when she was pregnant with you. She hid you here, where Magnus promised to keep you human. To keep you safe. To keep you from..."

He looked at me.

"From him. From the broken Alpha who was promised a white wolf mate since birth."

The air left my lungs.

Promised? I was promised?

I looked at my father. "Dad?"

Magnus didn't answer. He didn't need to. The guilt on his face was answer enough.

Elara was staring at her hands. Her hands were shaking violently. Not from cold.

"Kael," she said, her voice tiny. "Why do I feel hot? Why do I..."

Her back arched. Just a little. A gasp left her mouth.

And then it happened.

Her scent exploded.

Wild. Clean snow. Pine after rain. Honey. But a hundred times stronger. So strong even the humans in the crowd gasped and stepped back.

The two wolves behind Rhys fell to one knee without thinking. Heads bowed.

Jenkins whispered, "Oh my God."

Elara's hair lifted off her shoulders even though there was no wind. Her eyes — her eyes were fully silver now. Glowing silver-white. Beautiful and terrifying.

And from her mouth, a sound came out.

Not a scream.

A howl.

A pure, high, heartbreaking howl that shook the water in the river and made the trees shiver and made every wolf in Silver Falls, including my father, drop to their knees.

Every wolf except me.

I stood there, in front of her, eyes glowing gold, claws out, unable to howl my whole life.

And my human girl — my mate — was howling for both of us.

She stopped as suddenly as she started. She collapsed forward, into me. I caught her. She was burning up.

Her silver eyes found mine, terrified.

"Kael? What did I do? What am I?"

Behind us, Rhys's smile was gone. He looked deadly serious now.

"She is what you were supposed to protect," he said to my father. "And someone just killed her brother to keep her from shifting. That mark on the boy's neck? That's not a wolf kill, Magnus. That's a witch's claw."

My father went white.

And from the woods behind Rhys, deeper in North Ridge territory, another howl answered Elara's.

But this one wasn't beautiful.

It was hungry.