53. Shya

Chapter fifty-three

Shya

T he forest blurred around me as I ran after Tristan, my paws flying over the ground. His scent hung thick in the air, and I followed it with a single-minded determination. He tried to throw me off, doubling back and veering sharply, but nothing could stop me from finding him. My world had narrowed to a single point: Tristan.

I could hear his ragged breathing, see flashes of his form as he darted between trees. He was fast, but in wolf form, I was faster. This was my Pack, my land, and the forest itself seemed to bend to my will, branches swaying out of the way, clearing my path, roots and stones rising in just the right points to offer me sure footing on the uneven terrain. The very earth beneath my paws seemed to propel me forward, lending me strength and speed.

My muscles burned, but I pushed harder. This wasn't just about me anymore. It was about my family, my Pack, everyone Tristan had threatened. With each stride, I felt them all driving me on.

I hurtled forward, closing the distance between us.

He ducked left under a pine tree, breaking into a small clearing, and I knew I had him. I knew this place. Had come here as a child hunting with my dad. I slowed as he raced to the far side and skidded to a halt. A sheer rock face loomed before him, too steep to climb. He spun around, his hazel eyes wide as they met mine.

My lips pulled back in a snarl as I circled him.

He turned as he followed my movements, watching me carefully. "Shya," he smiled. "My mate. I knew if anyone could catch me, it would be you. Look at you—so powerful, so magnificent. This is exactly why we belong together."

Tristan's voice dropped to a seductive purr. "This is why we're destined for greatness, you and I. Together, we could lead our kind to reach their true potential. We'd be unstoppable, and you know it."

He extended one hand toward me as if offering me the world. "Embrace your destiny. With your support and my vision, we could reshape the very fabric of our society. Isn't that what you truly want? To be strong? To be feared? To be worshipped? I can give that to you." Tristan's eyes blazed with fervor. "Join me. Let's show everyone—wolves and humans alike—what real strength looks like."

His words hung in the air, charged with promise and temptation. Tristan stood there, hand outstretched, utterly convinced of his own irresistibility and the inevitability of my submission.

I growled low in my throat, the sound rumbling through the clearing. My eyes never left Tristan's as I stalked toward him, each step deliberate and menacing.

For a moment, confusion flickered across Tristan's face. His outstretched hand wavered, then slowly lowered. The confident smile began to fade as understanding dawned in his eyes.

"Shya," he said, his voice losing its seductive edge. "Think about what you're doing. We're meant to be together."

I didn't stop. My lips drew back to show him my teeth.

"No," he ordered. "Shya, you will obey me!"

Tristan's eyes widened, the last vestiges of his certainty crumbling away. He took a step back, then with a sudden burst of movement, he lunged to the side, attempting to dart past me.

But I was ready. I sprang forward, my powerful legs propelling me through the air. My jaws snapped shut on his leg. I sank my teeth into his calf, and I heard him cry out in pain and terror.

"You stupid fucking bitch! I'll kill you for this!"

A deep, familiar chuckle resonated through the clearing. I released Tristan's leg as he twisted around to see Mason emerging from the treeline.

"Well, fuck me over with a feather," Mason drawled, sauntering toward us. "What do we have here? The great Tristan Munroe, brought low by a female? This is fucking priceless, you know. I can't wait to see the Pack's faces when they hear about this. They'll be laughing their asses off for weeks."

Tristan's face contorted with rage and humiliation. He struggled to his feet but fell when he tried to put weight on his injured leg. Blood dripped from the wound and ran onto the ground in a steady stream.

"Face it, Tristan, it's over. Shya beat you. She showed you who's stronger, who's smarter."

Tristan swung his head from side to side, looking for a way out as I stalked closer. His arrogance melted away, replaced by naked desperation. I could see the calculation in his eyes, he wanted to Shift but he knew he'd be leaving himself vulnerable; we'd kill him before he'd transformed a paw.

"Please," he begged, holding up his hands. "I'll do anything you want. I'll leave the north, never come back. I'll give you whatever you want. Just let me live."

"There is nothing you have that we would ever want," Mason growled.

"Shya, you made me do those things. If you had just accepted me, none of this would have had to happen! If you're looking for someone to blame, then blame yourself. Not me!"

I snarled, and Tristan's eyes darted between us, realizing his words were having no effect. In a flash, his hand went to his boot, pulling out a silver knife. With a roar of desperation, he threw himself at me.

As one, Mason and I moved. I ducked under Tristan's swing and sank my teeth into his abdomen, ripping and tearing. At the same time, Mason's powerful hands gripped Tristan's head.

There was a sickening crack, followed by a wet, tearing sound. I danced back as Tristan's body went limp, blood pouring from his eviscerated midsection, and watched it topple over. Mason stood, Tristan's head dangling from his hand, a look of grim satisfaction on his face.

It was done. Tristan was dead.

Mason and I made our way back through the forest, leaving Tristan's mutilated body behind. The sounds of life were muted as we reached the edge of the clearing, and I paused to take in the scene.

The remains of Tristan's Pack, those who weren't still and bloody from AJ's rampage, were surrounded by our Bridgetown enforcers. Some looked lost, defeated; others were snarling defiantly.

Mom was supervising the enforcers and directing the clean-up. Derek and Sam were with Milly, Jem, and Esme, all guarding AJ while he slept. Henry sat beside Marnie by the treeline, tears falling silently down her face as she took in the devastation in front of her. There was no Edmond or Garrett here, nor their parents. I wondered if they had left already or if they had never come.

My fur brushed against Mason's leg. He glanced down at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You ready for this? I meant what I said. I'm not giving you up. Not for anything or anyone. We do this, and you're stuck with me, princess."

I just looked at him. There was nothing he could say to change my mind.

"So be it," he said and strode into the clearing, his presence commanding immediate attention.

Mason hurled Tristan's severed head into the center of the clearing. It landed with a sickening thud, rolling to a stop in front of the Bridgetown Pack. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Listen up!" Mason's voice boomed across the battlefield. All eyes turned to him. "We killed Tristan," Mason announced, his voice hard and unyielding.

I stepped forward to stand by him, still in my wolf form, my head held high. Mason's hand came to rest on my back.

"I am Shya's mate," he declared, his eyes sweeping over the assembled wolves. "We're together. We will always be together. We're your future Alphas. You have a problem with that, now's the time to challenge us."

I watched as all eyes swiveled to Tristan's head, then back to me and Mason.

Silence radiated out, and not one person said a fucking word.