Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 140: Blood

Chapter 140: Blood

"Alaric," she rasped, spitting blood onto the grass. "He... he took the amulet. He was here."

Lucas felt his entire body go cold. The world tilted. For a split second, he couldn’t hear anything; not Dennis’s ragged breathing, not Missy’s wheezing gasps. Just the deafening echo of her words. Alaric. The amulet.

His chest clenched as he turned to Dennis, who looked just as horrified, his face drained of all color. They said two different names at the same time, yet it meant the same thing.

"Ava," Lucas whispered.

"Zoe," Dennis said, barely breathing.

*****

Lucas drove like a man who’d gone rabid with fear. Dennis had to grip the dashboard. The world outside was a blur of colors and lights.

"If he hurt her... If he touched a single strand of her hair..." Lucas’s voice broke. "I’ll tear him apart, Dennis. I will fucking rip his soul out and hand it to the gods myself."

Dennis stayed silent for a moment, swallowing the bile that was building in his throat. "Zoe can handle things," he said, trying to believe it himself. "She’s tough, smart."

Lucas’s chest heaved. "She’s not fighting some asshole in a bar. She’s up against him. Against that... that monster. Call them again. Please. Just keep trying."

Dennis’s thumbs moved fast, dialing, redialing. "No one’s picking up." He looked up at Lucas, his mouth trembling slightly.

"Fuck!" Lucas yelled, slamming his palm against the steering wheel so hard it echoed through the car. He didn’t care. Pain helped him focus. Anger was better than fear. He swerved the wheel violently and drew to a sharp, screeching stop in front of the boutique’s gate. The tires groaned. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

And then... he smelled it.

His whole body stilled as the metallic, sickly-sweet scent of silver hit him. It clung to the air. A scent no werewolf could ignore.

He didn’t need to be told what had happened inside.

He already knew.

He shut his eyes for a second, and in that moment, everything shattered inside of him. A tear escaped down his cheek, carving a hot trail of grief along the sharp edge of his jaw. Behind him, Dennis stood but Lucas knew his brother was barely holding it together, too. Neither of them were ready for what they would find beyond that door. That door wasn’t just wood and hinges anymore; it was the threshold between before and after.

At the boutique’s entrance, the carnage came into view. Blood smeared across the polished tiles. Nolan’s body lay crumpled in a pool of red, a silver stake stuck through his back. Lucas’s heart thudded so hard it felt like it would crack his ribs from the inside.

"Lucas?" Dennis’s voice was soft but urgent. He stepped forward, already seeing the shift in Lucas’s posture; the way his shoulders hunched and his fists curled. He recognized the signs. Manic was fighting to claw his way to the surface. "I need you to listen to me right now," Dennis said, walking around to face him. "I wasn’t there for you with Mara. But this time, I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone."

Lucas didn’t look at him, not yet. His jaw clenched and his body vibrated. Dennis grabbed him by the shoulder, firm but not forceful, grounding him with both touch and truth. "This time," Dennis continued, "you have me. You have a whole pack that will burn the world to get our women back. But right now? Ava needs you in your right mind. Zoe needs you to think. Not to rage. Not yet."

Lucas’s breath hitched. He hated that his brother was right. His wolf howled inside him, a roar of fury and loss, of failure. He had sworn to protect Ava, to never let what happened to Mara happen again—and yet here he stood, blood at his feet, and Ava was gone.

"Don’t let Manic take over now. Not yet," Dennis said. "When we find the bastards who did this...then, brother, you let him out. You rip out their hearts and serve them to the gods. But not now. Not while they still need saving."

Lucas’s body trembled. It took everything he had to shove Manic down, to leash the beast clawing for control. He took one deep breath, then another, and nodded. A rough, small nod but it was enough.

His eyes swept the room, sharp again, finally able to focus. That’s when he saw her—the store attendant—slumped in the corner, breathing but unconscious. She had a gash on her forehead, probably knocked out before she could scream for help. Lucas’s voice, when it came, was gruff and low but laced with purpose. "Bring her," he told Dennis. "Mary can fix her. And once she wakes up..."

"We find out what she saw," Dennis finished, already moving.

The brothers exchanged one final look—grief-ridden, furious, but united. The storm was coming. And Lucas was going to be its eye.

Lucas knelt beside Nolan’s lifeless body, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The world around him blurred into the weight of unbearable loss. The war hadn’t even started, and already, he’d lost a brother in arms. Nolan wasn’t just a soldier, he was a loyal protector. Lucas’s jaw tightened. The metallic sting of silver in the air was unmistakable; it clung to the space. They had used silver to suppress Nolan’s shift, forcing him to fight with nothing but fists and heart. And still... he had tried. For Ava. For his Luna. Lucas’s heart cracked as he imagined Nolan standing his ground with nothing but the will to protect.

Without a word, Lucas slipped his arms beneath Nolan’s frame, pulling out the silver stake and lifting him with the kind of reverence saved for warriors and kings. He didn’t flinch at the weight. Dennis moved beside him, watching as Lucas carried their fallen brother out of the boutique. Each step was a vow, each breath a silent promise: King Herod would pay. He would answer for every drop of Nolan’s blood, for every tear Ava might cry, and for every heartbeat Lucas had to carry without him.

*****

Doctor Mary was as swift and efficient as ever, even with trembling hands and panic looming over the entire town. She finished tending to the store attendant’s head wound, dabbing away the blood gently. As the girl began to stir, Mary stepped back to give her space, even though the tension in the room was thick enough to chew through. The store attendant blinked against the harsh lighting before her eyes went wide—first from the pain, then from the two strikingly intense figures looming above her. Alpha Lucas, in all his intimidating, storm-brewed glory, and his brother Dennis, who looked like Lucas if someone gave him an energy drink and never let him sleep again.

The girl gasped and immediately sat up. "I’m so sorry, Alpha," she blurted.

"What happened?" Lucas’s voice cut through, calm but terrifyingly sharp. There was no time for apologies.

@Alicia_Zeigler, @Kie: Promise not to hate me.

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