Slade (Team Greywolf 1)

Slade’s equal. No. His superior.

He fought Wolfstrom, not just to stay alive, but to save Abella.

Cricket stood and blinked. The attack happened fast. Slade, a blur of white, passing over her. Her hero. No! The sinister alpha had the advantage of size and the taint of Griswold’s blood.

She stared at Henrik. His fangs out, salivating perhaps from blood lust at the sight of Slade’s white fur darkening with blood. He didn’t risk shooting his master during the heated battle between two raging alphas.

Cricket’s shoulder bled. Her torn flesh hurt like hell. She had to kill Henrik. How? Physically fighting him, not an option. If she could make it to her dropped gun. Or Nik. Where was he?

Henrik drew out a dagger and walked toward the titan wolves, fingering his missing ear. “Payback time.”

Her wolf awoke in fury so great her pain no longer mattered. Mine.

Cricket leapt and hamstringed him. Ripping through his tendons. Tasting flesh.

“Fucking bitch!” Yelping, Henrik dropped the dagger, staggered and pummeled to the ground.

Cricket scrambled away as he dragged his sorry ass toward her. He might be crippled, but enraged enough to ignore the pain and kill her. She limped behind a boulder. A barrier to shift back to human form and run on two legs to save her shoulder from severe agony while running. The earth shook for a moment. She grinned. Bye-bye lab.

Abella! Slade twisted to look. Cricket scampered into the woods as Henrik held the back of his torn thigh. Pride in his little wolf filled his heart.

Wolfstrom sank his fangs into his throat. He drew his canines close to Slade’s artery and death, but hesitated. He growled, “Submit!”

One squeeze on his carotid and his life would end. His death meant hers. Slade whimpered. “I…submit…master.”

Wolfstrom eased his grip.

Shame filled Slade’s gut. His little wolf had slain a bear and hamstringed an alpha. A surge of an unnatural fierce vigor flooded through him. He threw Wolfstrom off, raking him with his hind claws.

Wolfstrom slammed on the ground, recovered and snarled. “I made you my son!”

Slade snarled. “The spirits made you unworthy of having pups.”

Wolfstrom stalked toward him, his hackles up, his eyes glowing orbs. Demonic. “We can rule tog

ether.”

“You’re an oath breaker!”

“Think of it, one supreme species with no need for human comforts. A predator to rule the herds. It’s what our creator Stallo wanted.”

“Never.”

Wolfstrom grinned. “My pack will tear Cricket apart. Join me. I’ll let you keep her in your den. Fuck her anytime.”

“Let her go and I’ll join.”

“She stays. For food or for fuck, your choice. Naturally, I get the first fuck.”

Slade lunged. “Die!”

Wolfstrom met him in midair.

No more compromises. Their growls echoed as they each used claws and fangs to tear, shred, rip and annihilate.

Distant wolves howled. Wolfstrom’s pack. Cricket had bigger problems. She had shifted to human form as Henrik shifted into the hybrid wolf form. The maddened werewolf stalked her, dragging his torn useless leg.

She threw his fallen dagger, stabbing his chest. He yelped and yanked it out.