The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 72: Chapter 72

Imagine you’re sitting in a simulated car. You’re looking out the windshield, seeing the steering wheel in front of you as though you’re actually driving, but your hands aren’t on the wheel, you have no control of which way the car turns or how fast it goes.
You’re looking out over the road and listening as the tires shriek on the pavement. The smell of gasoline and rubber all very much tingling your senses to remind you you’re present.
Now, imagine that the car you feel responsible for, because you are in fact in the driver’s seat, but not really, goes off-road, up on the sidewalk, and straight toward a couple walking down the street. Their bodies fly against the windshield, cracking the glass, and they roll onto the ground, but the car doesn’t stop.
Instead, it drives up the walkway, and everyone jumps out of the way.
You’re not driving, your hands aren’t on the wheel, it’s not you, but you feel it, you see it, and the blood stains your hands all the same.
That was my analogy when Nasha tasted Noah’s blood on her tongue.
A vigorous pleasure exuded from her, and I felt how thrilling it was for her to have drawn it from his chest.
His wolf stood growling, snarling in warning and trying to use his position of dominance to force her into submission, but it had no effect.
That never should’ve happened. Noah and his wolf were going easy, they didn’t want to hurt us.
We weren’t stronger than him.
Nobody was. Not even his father was stronger than him.
He was holding back to spare us the pain and I could tell in the way his movements twitched that he was forcing his wolf back just the same.
In any other case, we would’ve been dead by now.
His wolf charged and lunged from the ground, jaw spreading as he looked ready to lock his fangs into Nasha’s back.
Just as he got on top of her, using his strength to push her down, I felt the pain as he sank his canines into her side to subdue her.
But even then, he wasn’t using full force.
Fuck. Part of me was glad that he wanted to keep us alive, and another part asked for him to man the fuck up and kill us already.
If not, there was no telling how far Nasha would go.
She wanted blood.
Death.
Pain.
Without realizing, stuck in the paralyzing throb of pain stabbing through her muscles, Noah released and got out of the way as another wolf bashed into our side, and we were tossed onto a nearby tree.
The bark cut right into the wound left by Noah’s bite and ripped against her flesh as she fell.
But that didn’t stop the bitch.
No, she got back up on a hurt front leg and prepared for another attack.
The mutt was up against two Alpha wolves; this had to be a suicide mission.
“It’s not suicide.”
Her first words since the shift.
“Nasha, what the fuck, stop attacking them! They’re in our pack. They’re the sons of the Alpha.”
“I know,” was all she said.
I was heaving, feeling the panic take root in my chest, and my ribs felt like they were closing in around my heart.
“Why are you doing this? Why can’t I control you?”
“This is not a suicide.” She repeated like a broken record.
“Then what is it?”
“It's a hit job.”
What in the actual…
“You need to back down. Let’s just shift back, and I promise never to force a shift again.”
My wolf laughed, snickered like the villain in a movie before something bad happened.
“You didn’t force the shift. You couldn’t.”
“But you were against it, you said you didn’t want to, and I pushed.”
It was like trying to reason with a psychopath. Only larger and stronger.
“It was never that I didn’t want to shift. I just had to make sure they’d hear it,” she mused.
Her snickering continued until it was waved out by a vicious, gut-wrenching snarl, and she made a rough start at Noah before swiftly turning and jumping at Logan.
The Reed brothers were similar in many ways, not counting looks or last name, but in others, they were vastly different.
Noah, for example, did everything in his power to subdue Nasha without inflicting too much pain and/or killing her. He wanted her to submit and stand down. He didn’t want to hurt us.
Logan, on the other hand, was not about any of that.
All he wanted was to eliminate the threat.
He didn’t see me, a girl he’s known his entire life, one he seemed to have actually somewhat befriended over the last few months.
No, Logan saw a threat.
Someone was going after his brother.
Someone attacking him, the one person on this earth that he loves and cares about, and all that ran through his head was that he needed to neutralize the threat.
I didn’t blame him.
I would’ve probably done the same thing.
At least, I think I would.
All I asked, silently, in the unprotected darkness of my mind, words that would never reach the outer world, was that he make it fast and painless.
The last thing I wanted was for this shitty excuse of a life to end in a torturous pain where eventually death was the flicker of light that rescued me.
Without the core of desperation to protect instead of kill, Logan was the optimal beast.
He met Nasha’s attacks and they rose to their hind legs, clawing at each other and biting, each going for that sweet point on the neck where the kill would’ve been instant.
A loud whimper escaped Nasha when his claws ripped into her cheek, slicing up her snout and just barely missing her right eye.
But she didn’t stop.
And neither did he.
They fell down and Logan jumped quick, biting at her side, quick and back before another bite, and he locked his jaw on her shoulder, his canines penetrating deep and harsh until the blood spewed around the corners of his mouth.