Revolting

Chapter Twenty Seven - Rage Michael

I hit the bag with all the force I could muster, causing it to swing on its chain and come back at me. I'd been holed up in my exercise studio, working the punching bag for almost an hour. Sweat was pouring off my face and down my body, dripping down to leave salty stains on the mats under my feet. Still, I couldn't calm the rage that was burning in my blood. He left.

William fucking walked away from me. From ME?!

Who the hell did he think he was anyway, looking down his self-righteous nose at me like he was some kind of angel?

Well, he did look the part, didn't he? Those sky-blue eyes and that god-damned golden hair? His perfect, smiling face shimmered in my mind. All he needed was to sprout some white wings and he'd be complete. I slammed my fist back into the bag, left jab, right hook, left uppercut.

"I'm an alpha," I growled, wiping the sweat out of my stinging eyes with the back of my forearm. I think I needed to remind myself of who was in the power-position here. ME, Michael. Not some pretty boy beta from a rag-tag excuse for a pack that was half rogue foundlings. It wasn't even a real pack at all.

My wolf reminded me that William was actually the son of a very powerful Alpha. "Second son!" I snapped out loud.

I was angry, I was insulted, but the worst part of all of it was that I still wanted him. Every time I closed my eyes, his face was there, laughing at me. When I tried to sleep at night, I remembered the way his body felt against mine, I remembered every perfectly formed muscle and the curve of his fine ass. The memories of our time together were enough to make me hard and frustrated. Even now, covered in sweat, physically exhausted, I felt myself harden just at the thought of him. I thought about calling Paul, the little omega who was always ready and willing to help me relieve my tensions. But somehow the thought of Paul turned me off now. He was like a puppy, eager to please, willing to do anything, willing to take it any way I wanted. But he didn't have a god-damned spine. He had no strength, no power in him. There was nothing about Paul that would make me get on my knees and beg... but William...

Jeezus, I was fucked. I need him back here. I thought if I gave him a little space, a little time, he'd come back on his own. He'd apologize for being such a judgmental dick, maybe suggest we go out to the lake and relax. I had paced in my office, watching the front door for days. I had checked my phone incessantly, looking for the text that would offer reconciliation. It had to come from him, though. He walked out on ME. My pride and my ego wouldn't let me go with him. I didn't have anything to concede. Killing rogues was not a crime, it was a service to the community. With every passing day that he didn't show, he didn't call, he didn't text, the rage inside me was building into an inferno. "Alpha?"

I caught the swinging bag and bowed my head between my arms, panting for breath. Then I turned to face one of the Ten, an expert in scouting and tracking. He was a tall, swarthy man who kept his head shaved and his beard clipped in to a neat goatee. "Gerome." I acknowledged him. "What have you got for me."

"Remember the rogue you shot about a month back?"

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I stiffened. Of course, I remembered. The man had looked like a red-headed lumberjack. But what pissed me off most was that he managed to get away. The only consolation I had was that we found his blood in the leaf litter on the forest floor. The poison arrow had penetrated, so he was as good as dead anyway. It was just inconceivable that the man, along with a female, had managed to slip away from the Ten. It was an insult to me, an insult to my warriors. "We picked up his scent again."

"Where?" I straightened and pushed away from the bag, my mood immediately brightening. This is exactly what I needed. The hunt, the chase, the kill. I could vent my rage on the damned rogue, and I would forget all about William. "To the North," Gerome answered, "In the no-man's land past the Black Crow lands. Just outside of that new pack's boundary."

"New pack?"

"Yeah, you know. They call themselves The Rebel Moon. They are a joke. If we wanted, we could wipe them all out in one attack."

Mmmm, now that was an idea. If William didn't have a pack to run back to...

If you're loving the book, nel5s.org is where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience-all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! Before that idea could fully take root, Gerome brought me back down. "Except of course, they are under the protection of the Black Crow."

I swore. East Glade was good. We were fucking strong. But to mess with the Black Crow would be suicide. That pack was huge, and aside from their own numbers, they had a huge network of satellite packs and loyal allies. No, wiping out the Rebel Moon wasn't an option. Not yet.

But hunting a rogue in a no-man's land, a neutral territory? That was fair game. The idea that it was practically in William's backyard only made it that more appealing. I would slaughter that fucker right in Williams rogue-loving face. "Was the scent fresh? Are you sure he's still alive?" I asked skeptically. He really should have been dead already. We'd tested the poison on some captured rogues in our cells. Most of them expired after a couple weeks, none had lasted longer than a month.

"Oh yeah its fresh." Gerome bobbed his bald head. "Looks like him and a female set up a camp."

I growled in satisfaction and turned, "Call the Ten," I ordered. "Lets go hunting."

"Yes, alpha."

Gerome left, and I turned. I walked over to the wall, and pulled one of the silver-tipped arrows off the display. I wasn't sure how the rogue had survived the first time, but I would make damn sure he didn't get away again.