This Dark Wolf (Soul Bitten Shifter #1) - Everly Frost Page 0,118
what that is.”
The picture that was forming in my mind disintegrates again. Only Tristan and Jace have spoken about the three-headed wolf. Once between themselves, and then the other day Jace mentioned him to me. Jace said he hoped I would be strong enough to kill the beast. That Tristan was counting on me to do it.
Nobody in Tristan’s pack has ever spoken about the white wolf and I don’t believe Cody is lying to me now. But it seems strange that nobody else knows about him. Of course, I haven’t exactly talked about meeting him, either.
When Tristan first spoke about the wolf, he said that the three-headed wolf was coming for him the same way it came for his father. The extent to which the three-headed wolf—the white wolf—is responsible for what happened to Ella is a frustrating unknown.
I shudder because I still only have pieces of the picture.
Now I’m here to kill Ella’s father.
How can I do that when her family loves her and their hatred of Tristan is the result of incredible pain and distrust? Pain that Tristan shares?
I try to remind myself that Baxter Griffin’s hatred might have been triggered by losing Ella, but since then, he has orchestrated brutal attacks on innocent wolf shifters. Even with that thought in mind, even though I scream at myself inside my head, I can’t kill Ella’s father.
One day, I hope that Ella will emerge, healed, from Hidden House and when that day comes, I need to be able to look her in the eyes.
“Tristan is not his father,” I say to Cody as I rise to my feet. “You have to stop the systematic killing of his pack. They suffered at his father’s hands. Now they’re suffering at your hands. They don’t deserve more pain.”
Cody shakes his head, a slow side-to-side motion. “Tristan failed, Tessa—”
I snarl. “You’ve seen Tristan’s strength and power! If he failed to protect Ella—if he failed to protect his own mother that night—then it’s because nobody could have protected them! If it took him two years to kill his father, then he did it faster than anyone else could have.”
I step up to Cody, inhaling the power that swirls around him, a power that allowed him to inhale my scent. I’m not afraid of him like I once was. I am calm. In control. But that doesn’t mean I’m not angry.
“Destroying Tristan won’t bring Ella back or heal your pain,” I say.
“And yet you’re here to kill my father for vengeance.” Cody snarls, pointing out my hypocrisy.
“I came here to stop him,” I say. “In any way I can. I see now that killing him isn’t an option.”
My plan was unraveling before, but now it’s in ruins. I can’t kill Ella’s father tonight, but that won’t stop me if he crosses into Tristan’s territory intending to attack Tristan’s pack.
Daring to grab Cody’s hand, I push Ella’s picture into his palm, trying to force him to listen to me. “Stop sending shifters across the border or I will kill them without mercy,” I say. “Tristan’s pack deserves a future.”
I turn away from Cody, preparing to leave, but he catches my arm and spins me back to him, pulling me hard up against him. His head tilts down to mine as I catch my breath. One of his arms anchors around my waist; the other curves around my unmarked shoulder.
“Why do you smell different?” His voice is rough as he demands answers. Up until now, even when he spoke about Ella, he has been civil and in control.
Now I glimpse the animal he’s keeping caged inside, the ferocity I experienced on the night of the Conclave. He wanted to claim me, even if he had to tear me apart to do it. He may have conquered his aggression since then, stepped off the path he was walking, but his animal’s nature remains wild and wanting.
The sudden surge of strength in his hold tells me he’s harnessing his wolf’s ferocity and he won’t let me go until I give him answers.
“Your scent made me crazy.” He growls. “I was fucking savage toward you. And now I can’t sense you at all.”
I tip my head back with a whisper. “Because I’m more powerful now.”
Despite my answer, his arms close tightly around me. His eyes narrow at me, and I sense him teetering on a precipice of choices. The desire in his eyes tells me he doesn’t want to release me now that he’s holding me.