The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 30: Chapter 30
You are reading The Alpha's Gamble, Chapter 30: Chapter 30. Read more chapters of The Alpha's Gamble.
The beastly mountain rose to his feet, feet I did not want to see, I’m sure they looked like something from the giants that Jack encountered after climbing up the bean stock.
Nevertheless, here we were, in the Giant’s den, willingly for some ungodly reason.
Adrenaline, an outlet, a quick fight- in and out- and I’d feel better. All stupid words that my inner monologue had made up when I left my room after reading Nate’s text. A large shadow cast over us when he blocked the window behind him. My neck bent trying to look up at him without feeling like a frightened bird with its wings clipped and I was adamant on standing my ground… but holy fucking shit.
Nate and Logan were unyielding, standing firm like they weren’t in the presence of the largest, most dangerous man known of our kind. Okay, maybe not the most dangerous man, what do I know- I’ve never met a Russian werewolf, but he was one of them. One of the ones we heard about as pups, told to stay far away from. Even amid being raised as warriors, taught that we were Earth's superior species, stronger and faster and better in every way, we were also taught that there needs to be a balance even for the strongest. Our balance was the Russians, their stories spread fear in us from the moment we could understand words, and nobody ever wished to meet one in their lifetime. But it made me wonder, if they were our balance, then who was theirs? Was there a creature stronger and scarier than them?
I doubt it.
Nature must’ve stopped with them, knowing that bringing something stronger would be the end of the world as we know it.
“Reed,” a deep guttural voice kickstarted my heart from the temporary cardiac arrest I got when he stood up. A pair of silver eyes with darker swirls shadowing his lens stared at Logan like the inconvenience he was. I honestly think I would find it amusing right now to see Logan being flung across the room from a slap by the beast.
“Volokov, it’s been too long!” Logan stepped closer. I desperately wanted to reach out and pull him back, but I was frozen solid in my spot.
The beast stepped around the corner of the desk, brushing his hip against the mahogany wood, floorboards squeaking under his weight, fighting for their life not to break.
Please don’t kill Logan.
More and more I was regretting not opposing when Logan told me that Noah wasn’t coming with us. I willingly left with two recluses, one of them being a class act narcissistic asshat on top of a recluse.
Noah was at the pack so I couldn’t mind link him, and I refused to die in a worn-down, slum bar that smelled like vomit and sweat.
“Not long enough,” his thick Russian accent caused a wave of vibration to hit my chest, but luckily his attention was on Logan alone.
I looked around, flickering my eyes over every corner and window, without turning my head, I took in as much as I could to mark out escape routes.
A broken shelf hung on the wall by its last nail, it could make as a good weapon, so could the dagger pinned to the wall above it- the window had a crack so it wasn’t strengthened, we could bust through it if we needed. The door behind looked thick but I heard from the Hagrid impersonator’s knocking that it was hollow, one kick and it would fly off. Even if we went through the bar, we could make it out, might just get a little bloodier than I would’ve liked.
“You know why I’m here,” Logan said and with a challenging gaze as he stepped closer.
Dumbass.
Volokov’s lips pulled back in a grin, amusement twinkled in his eyes: this must all be like a puppet show for him.
We weren’t getting out of here without a bruise or two but as long as I got dumb and dumber and my own dumbass home alive, I’d have to call that a win.
My eyes shifted to Logan’s fist flexing by his side, I immediately turned my head and looked at Nate slowly moving in toward them.
“Where is it?” Logan asked.
“Right there,” Volokov reached out his sausage finger to the broken shelf hanging on the wall, pinned to the wall above the shelf was the dagger. A small, toothpick of a dagger.
That was a joke, right? He came here for that floss?
It looked like a letter opener, the tip of the blade was rounded and I could tell from here that it hadn’t been sharpened in forever.
It looked like something forged in a toy store.
“Go ahead,” Volokov said, rolling his shoulders back. “Take it.” He challenged.
Nate kept an eye on the guys as he turned around and walked across the office. The dagger glinted under the dim light when he pulled it off the wall with one swift tug and he weighed it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around the handle.
“That will be all?” Volokov asked.
Logan slammed a hand on Volokov’s arm.
“Thank you for your civilized co-operation,” jackass.
Nate was the first out the door, Hagrid stepped aside, the rifle still rested on his shoulder, and he cast a look at Volokov.
A look I didn’t like.
There was something untold passing between them that we couldn’t understand and in a place like this, that could mean the difference between us leaving here unharmed and our corpses being tossed to the curb. Logan once again ushered me forward, a heavier hand landed on my lower back, and it wasn’t until now that I realized how tense he was.
“Keep moving and don’t look back.” I looked over my shoulder after Logan’s warning to see if Volokov made a move to follow us. Logan’s growl shook against my shoulder and his hand circled my waist as he dug his fingers into my side.
“What did I just say?” he groaned.
Walking through the bar, we took small steps but not slow, Nate was ahead of us, pushing through the crowd that wasn’t parting.
So far it was quiet behind us. No footsteps, no beast lurking around the corner ready to lunge. That sliver of hope returned, we might actually make it out without any casualties.
What was it they said about hope? It breathes eternal misery.
A sharp tip glinted on my right, Logan didn’t notice the man moving in, and as I turned my head an inch, I saw the knife slipping out from under the man’s sleeve.
I slapped Logan’s hand away, bent my arm and elbowed his ribs, making him fly back, barely escaping the first cut as the blade sliced through the air.
Grabbing his wrist, I broke the man’s hand and the knife fell to the floor. I coiled my fingers and heard the bones in his nose shatter upon impact.
Two men barricaded the door, Logan stared between me and the knife and then at the human weasel covering his shattered nose as the blood stained his red beard and trailed down his chin.
Nevertheless, here we were, in the Giant’s den, willingly for some ungodly reason.
Adrenaline, an outlet, a quick fight- in and out- and I’d feel better. All stupid words that my inner monologue had made up when I left my room after reading Nate’s text. A large shadow cast over us when he blocked the window behind him. My neck bent trying to look up at him without feeling like a frightened bird with its wings clipped and I was adamant on standing my ground… but holy fucking shit.
Nate and Logan were unyielding, standing firm like they weren’t in the presence of the largest, most dangerous man known of our kind. Okay, maybe not the most dangerous man, what do I know- I’ve never met a Russian werewolf, but he was one of them. One of the ones we heard about as pups, told to stay far away from. Even amid being raised as warriors, taught that we were Earth's superior species, stronger and faster and better in every way, we were also taught that there needs to be a balance even for the strongest. Our balance was the Russians, their stories spread fear in us from the moment we could understand words, and nobody ever wished to meet one in their lifetime. But it made me wonder, if they were our balance, then who was theirs? Was there a creature stronger and scarier than them?
I doubt it.
Nature must’ve stopped with them, knowing that bringing something stronger would be the end of the world as we know it.
“Reed,” a deep guttural voice kickstarted my heart from the temporary cardiac arrest I got when he stood up. A pair of silver eyes with darker swirls shadowing his lens stared at Logan like the inconvenience he was. I honestly think I would find it amusing right now to see Logan being flung across the room from a slap by the beast.
“Volokov, it’s been too long!” Logan stepped closer. I desperately wanted to reach out and pull him back, but I was frozen solid in my spot.
The beast stepped around the corner of the desk, brushing his hip against the mahogany wood, floorboards squeaking under his weight, fighting for their life not to break.
Please don’t kill Logan.
More and more I was regretting not opposing when Logan told me that Noah wasn’t coming with us. I willingly left with two recluses, one of them being a class act narcissistic asshat on top of a recluse.
Noah was at the pack so I couldn’t mind link him, and I refused to die in a worn-down, slum bar that smelled like vomit and sweat.
“Not long enough,” his thick Russian accent caused a wave of vibration to hit my chest, but luckily his attention was on Logan alone.
I looked around, flickering my eyes over every corner and window, without turning my head, I took in as much as I could to mark out escape routes.
A broken shelf hung on the wall by its last nail, it could make as a good weapon, so could the dagger pinned to the wall above it- the window had a crack so it wasn’t strengthened, we could bust through it if we needed. The door behind looked thick but I heard from the Hagrid impersonator’s knocking that it was hollow, one kick and it would fly off. Even if we went through the bar, we could make it out, might just get a little bloodier than I would’ve liked.
“You know why I’m here,” Logan said and with a challenging gaze as he stepped closer.
Dumbass.
Volokov’s lips pulled back in a grin, amusement twinkled in his eyes: this must all be like a puppet show for him.
We weren’t getting out of here without a bruise or two but as long as I got dumb and dumber and my own dumbass home alive, I’d have to call that a win.
My eyes shifted to Logan’s fist flexing by his side, I immediately turned my head and looked at Nate slowly moving in toward them.
“Where is it?” Logan asked.
“Right there,” Volokov reached out his sausage finger to the broken shelf hanging on the wall, pinned to the wall above the shelf was the dagger. A small, toothpick of a dagger.
That was a joke, right? He came here for that floss?
It looked like a letter opener, the tip of the blade was rounded and I could tell from here that it hadn’t been sharpened in forever.
It looked like something forged in a toy store.
“Go ahead,” Volokov said, rolling his shoulders back. “Take it.” He challenged.
Nate kept an eye on the guys as he turned around and walked across the office. The dagger glinted under the dim light when he pulled it off the wall with one swift tug and he weighed it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around the handle.
“That will be all?” Volokov asked.
Logan slammed a hand on Volokov’s arm.
“Thank you for your civilized co-operation,” jackass.
Nate was the first out the door, Hagrid stepped aside, the rifle still rested on his shoulder, and he cast a look at Volokov.
A look I didn’t like.
There was something untold passing between them that we couldn’t understand and in a place like this, that could mean the difference between us leaving here unharmed and our corpses being tossed to the curb. Logan once again ushered me forward, a heavier hand landed on my lower back, and it wasn’t until now that I realized how tense he was.
“Keep moving and don’t look back.” I looked over my shoulder after Logan’s warning to see if Volokov made a move to follow us. Logan’s growl shook against my shoulder and his hand circled my waist as he dug his fingers into my side.
“What did I just say?” he groaned.
Walking through the bar, we took small steps but not slow, Nate was ahead of us, pushing through the crowd that wasn’t parting.
So far it was quiet behind us. No footsteps, no beast lurking around the corner ready to lunge. That sliver of hope returned, we might actually make it out without any casualties.
What was it they said about hope? It breathes eternal misery.
A sharp tip glinted on my right, Logan didn’t notice the man moving in, and as I turned my head an inch, I saw the knife slipping out from under the man’s sleeve.
I slapped Logan’s hand away, bent my arm and elbowed his ribs, making him fly back, barely escaping the first cut as the blade sliced through the air.
Grabbing his wrist, I broke the man’s hand and the knife fell to the floor. I coiled my fingers and heard the bones in his nose shatter upon impact.
Two men barricaded the door, Logan stared between me and the knife and then at the human weasel covering his shattered nose as the blood stained his red beard and trailed down his chin.
End of The Alpha's Gamble Chapter 30. Continue reading Chapter 31 or return to The Alpha's Gamble book page.