Chapter 188

#Chapter 188 – Unexpected Strength I gasp as I hear someone scream and can’t help but spin to look – to see what the hell is going on –

There, on the floor – Brent, his leg twisted unnaturally behind him, still raising his gun and working to aim when a Beta –

I scramble backwards on the couch, pushing my boys behind me, doing everything I can to block them as I watch the Beta move forward and knock the gun from Brent’s hand, kneeling down on his shoulder to incapacitate him and waving to people at the door behind him –

Suddenly, two more men enter the room, guns held at the ready, sweeping the room to ascertain the threats against them. One man stands taller than the other – his helmet gone, I can see the dark sheen of his hair as he steps forward –

“Stop,” my father commands, and my head spins to look at him –

To look directly down the barrel of a gun that I realize, suddenly, is pointed right at me.

I gasp, freezing, terror gripping my limbs as I understand what my father is doing. He’s using the same trick that won him any power just hours ago on the battlefield –

Threatening me, my life, as a way to control Victor’s actions.

But this time, my father has my two children under his command as well.

My eyes fly to Victor, who stands steadily at the front of the room, his gun pointed at the floor. His first Beta is busy ensuring that Brent is incapacitated still, but his second Beta has his gun aimed at my father. Directly at his head.

Still, it’s a standstill.

“Let her go, John,” Victor says, the sound of his voice running chills through my body. “You’ve lost this battle. There’s no need to add any more violence to the game, not when it won’t do you any good.”

“I don’t plan to kill her,” my father says, his voice dangerous. “Or the children. Instead, I’m going to take them with me. They are my only ticket out of this house, after all. If I kill them, you’ll kill me. But with them alive…”

My father smirks at Victor, who glowers.

“With them alive,” my father says again, slowly, gloating at his prize. “I have options.”

“Surrender,” Victor demands. “Don’t put them through any more of this. You have lost, Walsh. No matter where you go, I’ll chase you.”

“If you chase me,” my father says, his voice sharp and cruel. “Then I’ll leave a body count behind me as I run.” He turns his face to me then, smiling heartlessly. “After all, I have three captives here. I can spare two and still keep you at bay.”

My face drains of blood at his words.

“Perhaps the boys first,” my father says, turning back to Victor, watching the pain on his face as he considers the possibility. “Because with Evelyn as the final piece of bait…well, she’s the most valuable, isn’t she? You could always make more with her. The boys…” my father sneers at his grandchildren.

“Expendable.”

Victor shifts, then, and my father’s face snaps back to him, his finger tightening on the trigger. I gasp, flinching away, but my father’s hand stays steady, keeping track of my movements, following me so that the gun is always pointed straight at the center of my face.

“One more move in this room though, Kensington,” he growls, “and I swear to god I’ll kill her right now.”

Victor stays stock still, though at a glance I can see his mind racing behind his eyes.

“Your Betas,” my father says, glancing between them. “Make them throw their guns. Across the room.

Now.”

“Do it,” Victor says immediately. His Betas obey, one now standing uselessly behind him, the other kneeling on Brent’s slowly-rising chest.

My boys behind me also stay still, though I can feel them panting in their panic, their little hearts racing.

Suddenly – shockingly – it is my mother’s voice that rings through the room –

“John,” she says, she pleads. “Please John, don’t do this –“

“Be quiet,” he hisses, not looking at her.

“John,” she says, insistent – truly disobedient for the first time in their marriage, perhaps the first time in her life.

“God damnit,” he says, and for a moment – just a moment – when he spins to glare at her, he is distracted enough for the gun to drift away from my face, to aim instead at the wall. I take my chance, throwing myself backwards, grabbing my children, dragging them to the floor with me.

As I go, I see a flash of brass in the air –

A crash, a shout, and then my father’s body is lying next to me on the floor –

I shriek, skittering away from him, my boys likewise shouting and dashing backwards –

But then, I realize…he’s not moving. I blink, panting, my back pressed up against the couch as I notice the blood seeping from the back of his head, his closed eyes, the shards of glass scattered all around him –

Then, I look up, shocked to see my mother breathing heavily, her broken lamp still dangling from the fingers of her left hand.

She takes a moment, then, to stare down at my father, to ensure, truly, that he’s knocked out. Then, she raises her head, looking directly at Victor.

As if her stare breaks his spell, Victor immediately begins to rush forward. But she raises her hand towards him, palm out.

“Stop,” she commands. Victor hesitates, but slows, and complies, his Beta coming to stand next to him.

Victor about ten feet from all of us, his eyes focused on my mother.

“I want it clear,” she says, her voice sad but even. “Perfectly clear, that I did not do this to hand this pack to you.”

Victor studies her for a moment and then nods, letting her know he understands, letting her go on.

“I am still the Luna of this pack,” she says, raising her chin and holding Victor’s gaze. “My husband is no longer it’s Alpha, that is clear. You have defeated him. But as his Luna, I speak in his stead, and ask you to recognize his heirs.”

She gestures, then, to Emma, and then to me. “My daughters shall lead this pack,” she says, her voice declarative, carrying some of the Alpha command that runs in her blood. “Until such time as the heirs come to majority, they will lead it. Together.”

A small smile comes on Victor’s face, then, and he nods, consenting to his terms. “I recognize this,” he says formally – the words of an Alpha confirming the rights of another. “I recognize the two leaders of this pack. Emma Walsh,” he says, his eyes moving to my sister with a nod.

“And…” he says, his eyes finally turning to me. For the first time in days – since that horrible morning in his kitchen, after his house burned down, Victor’s gaze meets my own.

“And Evelyn,” he says quietly, bowing his head to me.

“Victor,” I say, breathless, and press my hands to the floor, pushing myself to my feet.

I need to go to him – need to be in his arms right now –

So, that’s precisely what I do.

I throw myself across the room, slamming into Victor, making him stumble back a few steps as I wrap my arms around his neck, feel him embrace me, pulling me close.

“Evelyn,” he murmurs, tucking his head down against its spot between my neck and my shoulder, my name rumbling in his chest pressed so tight against me that I can feel it echo against my own.

I open my mouth to reply – to tell him how sorry I am – how incredibly grateful – when a sound shatters the peace of the room.

My sister screams – someone else does as well – I spin back towards my boys, who look beyond me with wide eyes –

Again, that noise – a gunshot, I know now it was a gunshot, two gunshots –

Suddenly, a third rings out.

And I feel Victor go rigid in my arms.

And then, he slides out of my grip to fall to the floor at my feet.