37. Logan

37

LOGAN

I snapped into action, turning to Rome and James.

“I’ll be home when I’m done.”

I left my pack to care for our omega and went hunting. My vision narrowed, my senses honed on a singular task. I was a bloodhound for a pissant, spineless alpha.

There he was. All five foot eight of his scrawny self trying to leave the festival. I watched him grow frustrated when his wife wanted to stay before he stormed off on his own. No murder , I reminded myself while daydreaming about how crisply his nose would break under my fist. I watched him make it to the footpath beside the houses nearby and visibly relax.

Idiot .

I stalked after him, fuming that his head was still attached to his body. An orange, white and black streak raced past before circling back and flanking me.

“Are you coming to help?” I asked the unruly furball bounding at my feet.

A low hiss. Guess that was a yes.

“Don’t get in my way.”

That earned me a blistering look. Felix bared his pointy little teeth and raced back towards the festival crowd.

Whatever. I ignored the twinge of disappointment. Beheading Sean wasn’t a team sport.

Each one of my strides encompassed three of Sean’s hurried, pathetic steps. He completely lacked situational awareness and only noticed me when I was practically on top of him.

“What the?—”

I strangled the rest of the words from his throat with a sharp yank of his collar. Grabbing him on the back of his neck like an errant pup.

“You scent-marked my omega,” I growled.

“Fuck, it was an acci?—”

I shoved his lies away, enjoying the gurgling sound he made as he choked on his own spit. Ivy’s handprint was a slash of red across his face like a brand.

She should never have had to do that in the first place.

I got a better grip on his shirt, twisting the fabric around my fingers and tightening the collar around him like a noose. One fierce curl of my bicep and I was lifting him, squealing, into the air.

We were right in front of Mrs. Cassini’s house. Her high hedges were her pride and joy. She could be found regularly trimming them to perfection, perched on her ladder in her floppy sun hat no matter the season.

I planted Sean deep into them. Threw him, really. As high as I could reach. The dense foliage swallowed him up, only his head and limbs partially sticking out. Stuck like a pinned bug on a card.

I made a mental note to apologize to Mrs. Cassini later.

“You have a wife. Children ,” I reprimanded him. “Get your fucking shit together.”

His actions were so far beneath what it meant to be a good alpha.

Sean flailed and sank even deeper.

“Never come back here again.” My alpha dominance had never risen so quickly, so easily before. For Ivy. Her name pounded in my ears like drums of war. “If I get a single whiff of you, I will string you up on the flagpole in front of the whole town.”

His fear was a fine wine on my tongue.

I surged at him and he flinched. Eyes pinwheeling, sweat beading his clammy brow.

My voice took on a sinister edge. “If you don’t want to answer questions about why you keep getting put in high places you can’t get down from, you will stay the fuck away from her .”

Sean made a pithy, warbling sound. “Alright! Fucking hell, I hear you. Can you get me down now?”

I laughed darkly. “No.”

“What on god’s green earth…is that Sean Prior?”

There was the unmistakable click of a camera shutter. I spun around to see a throng of townspeople gaping at Sean. Stanley was complaining to his husband Harry about rowdy visitors disrespecting the wholesome festival ambience. A tipsy Lucy and Summer golf-clapped appreciatively. Marisol raised her phone higher, zoomed in and took another photo.

Felix stood at the head of them all, a fearless leader. I had no idea how he managed to corral everyone so quickly.

His tail flicked imperiously. You’re welcome.

Sean wasn’t likely to show his face around here anytime soon. I’d have to stock up on Felix’s gourmet treats.

But I had a more important mission first. Get back to my omega and make sure she knew she was ours.