Chapter Forty-Seven

Thorn

"It was just a moving van, Thorn." "You're just being paranoid, Thorn." "It must be all the pregnant omega pheromones clouding your senses."

Yeah. Or maybe it's an actual fucking stalker, trying to get the latest scoop on Pack Maddox.

I put my fist in the cuff of the driver's shirt—another beta, this one dressed in mossy green tones. And he's not alone.

The guy in the passenger seat is probably an alpha, but his scent blockers are intense. If I had to guess, he's been taking them for years, dulling his rank bit by bit.

All for what? I glare at the long-lens camera half-assembled in his lap, my lip curling.

A fucking photo.

"Get out," I snarl.

"Let me go," the driver counters.

Why, so you can run over my foot as you drive away? Not likely.

I'm not here to play games. If they can't see they've fucked with the wrong pack, I guess I'll just have to make it clearer.

I slam his face into the steering wheel. The horn blares, drowning out the sound of bones breaking.

"What the fuck!" the beta cries. "My nose!"

The alpha next to him fumbles for his cellphone. His chances of getting a signal out here—not great. But rather than leave it to chance, I slam his friend's face into the wheel a second time. He chokes, blood smearing everywhere.

"Christ!" the alpha exclaims.

"Touch that phone again," I warn him, "and the next thing I break will be his jaw."

He freezes, registering the phone in his hands like it's suddenly a detonator, and drops it.

"Good." I readjust my grip. "Now. Tell me who you work for."

As expected, the alpha splutters, "We don't work for anyone!"

The beta groans. "We just … take photos," he garbles out.

"Photos of Pack Maddox." I suck my teeth. "Big mistake there."

The alpha glowers at me as if to say No shit, asshole ! But there's another layer beneath the fear and frustration, like … maybe he already knew the risks involved in targeting us.

"You've heard of me, then," I surmise.

The team share a wary, unhappy look. It's the beta who responds, "Of course." He winces, like even talking disturbs his broken nose. "Maddox's psycho second."

Psycho second, huh? I'm not so sure I mind that.

His tone is filled with as much venom as it is fear—almost resentment. That's when it really starts to click.

"All the jobs I've been getting," I drawl, "all that busywork. Don't tell me you idiots were the ones behind it?"

If they truly do recognize me, and recognize the threat I pose to anyone who gets too close to Maddox, it only makes sense they'd try to take me out of the game. Not to mention their sheer level of commitment. Both feasible indicators of their involvement in my recent surge in work.

No wonder they're pissed. I've just foiled months of planning, hacking, and waiting.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the alpha says at last.

I grip a fistful of the beta's hair. "Don't be shy. Credit where it's due—you two did your homework."

They both go silent at this, unable to predict my next move.

I could slam the beta's head in again—at least hard enough to give him a proper concussion—but instead I say, "I take it you haven't gotten anything yet. Or you wouldn't be tailing us."

"Look," the beta urges, "we get it, okay? If you let us go, we're gone. We'll leave your pack alone."

I hum in thought, weighing up my options.

You could just kill them, my inner alpha suggests.

No. I'm not a killer—not anymore. Even if they deserve it.

But there's also no way to know he's telling me the truth about taking off for good. After all the time and resources they've poured into getting a single fucking shot of Eve, of our pack, it'll sting to leave here empty-handed.

"Give me the camera," I say at last.

The alpha recoils. "What?"

"Camera." My fist tightens in the beta's hair, making him whimper. " Now ."

Begrudgingly, gloweringly, they hand it over. I don't even look at the device before dropping it against the cement. Parts coming flying off. The glass lens shatters beneath my boot.

"Agh!" The beta chokes like he's been winded. "You—you—"

"We could get you charged for that!" the alpha snaps.

I angle my head, eyeing him darkly. "That so?"

It's like a chill falls over the van, both men shuddering in their seats. Whatever protests remain get swallowed back, like their preservation instincts are finally kicking in. I don't know exactly how much they've learnt about me in their studies, but clearly, it's enough to make them stop and reconsider their next course of action.

"You will turn around," I say quietly, " and you will never come back here. " My eyes flash. "Unless you want to find out exactly how psycho Maddox's second can be."

The beta clenches his jaw, only to flinch, working the shattered bones in his face. He nods tautly.

The alpha gulps. "So you're gonna … let us go?" I smirk. "Let's find out."

With that, I release the beta's hair. He gasps, fumbling for the gearstick, frantically moving into drive.

I manage to step out a half-second before they speed away, leaving the stink of blood and fumes in their wake.

Not to mention the long-lens camera lying shattered at my feet.

My cruel, animal pride dissipates within moments. I might've won that battle, but the war is only going to rage on, maybe even worse than before. Clearly, that female beta was right. Everyone wants a piece of Pack Maddox. If we don't feed the beast—give the press, the people, what they want—someone else will.

And the more we resist, the more they'll uncover.

"Fuck," I mutter. I need to check in with Baxter. I'm sure Eve is beside herself.

Stuck without a car or motorcycle, I pull out my phone and send a couple quick texts. One for Baxter, updating him on the situation, and one for Riley that reads:

Feel like going for a ride?