The Rouges of Coldwood(Rare Breeds #1)

Chapter 25-Mine is Bigger

Temple-a building for religious worship

My world blurred, angry growls fighting for dominance in my head as Carol led us out to the minivan and the jeep. Everyone heard what that bastard has said about my kids. The entire building knew, enough that no one bothered to stop us unless they wanted to deal with an extremely agitated Alpha Carol. Of course all the bits in pieces clicked together just as Ryder buckled me into my seat before Carol hit the gas and headed back for Coldwood.

Titus, though a rouge, was rich. Rich enough to rent out a back room and have hired mercenary thugs to do his dirty work. To scope out the town, to scope out me and somehow figure out that the kids were at the Coldwood pack house. Which meant another thing, we either had a mole in the Coldwood Pack, or Titus payed a very good spy to fuck around and find out. The moment I figure out which, will be the time I get to finally put my telekinesis skills to good use.

But, there is one other thing on my mind. Titus had called me Alpha Winters, and no one could possibly know that I bear my mother's title. My siblings and I were the only ones present when she named me her heir before she gave her warning and died in my arms. Only someone who was there the night of the massacre of my pack. Thanks to Mom, I now know for certain that not only had Titus ordered the attack, he had been among the bastards that destroyed everything my family held dear.

"That asshole is going to pay," I mutter, glaring up at the rear view mirror so everyone could see the swirling vortex within my eyes. "You still got your armory stocked up Carol?"

"Hell yes," she answers, putting the pedal to the metal once we leave the city limits of Devil's Heart. "Trust me kids, I've been planning for something like this for years. All the bells and whistles, I even got that old sheriff to put in a surprise practice town lock down every year just in case. Of course, the humans think it's for a nuclear attack, but we Supes no otherwise."

Even with Carol breaking all the traffic laws in creation, miracoulsy we get back to the pack house unscathed after nearly an hour of holding on for dear life. But, we were not prepared for the destruction that awaited us. We had left for the Gray Mill at three, thanks to the Hacketts being deep within the woods. Now after a one hour drive to Devil's Heart, that horrid meeting, and another hour back, the sun had just started to set once we pulled into the driveway.

A singe strip of concrete now crowded by pack members trying to clean up the trashed lawn. The younger kids watching with teary eyes from the sidelines, held back by their wain older siblings as the adults clean up window glass, bricks, and the remnants of shell casings. Blood was being washed away from the house's exterior walls, while trash bags and broken furniture are brought out the front door that has been split straight through. However, the gut wrenching part of it was the covered body carried out on a stretcher, and the red scaled arm that slipped from underneath the blood splattered blanket.

"Oh no, that can't be," Carol utters, yanking off her belt before slamming open the door and hurrying on over to the two men with the stretcher.

We pile out of the car, the faint scent of gunpowder, the iron tang of fresh blood mixing with the faint smell of flesh driving its way straight into my noise. I take off on into the house without another moment to waste. Ryder is not far behind, Derrick following next with Laurel right with him, joining me in my dash through the crowd, past the door, and into the horror show that was the living room. A hole is what remains of it, the curtains still smoking with faded embers, metal picture frames turned to oily puddles, and just to my left a wolf sized hole in the tiny study area that we left my sisters and their dolls.

I find them, their precious dolls with rainbow hair and glittery dresses. Molly's always in purple, Laura's in blue. They never went anywhere without them, they were either in a car, their coats, or backpacks at school. Two once beautiful dolls covered in ash, blood specks, and burned nearly halfway by fire. I'm already in tears by the time I reach them, falling to my knees and sobbing heavily as I pull them against my chest. Through blurry eyes and a heaving chest, I look around this small room, looking at the furniture torn by large claws, chunks of fur on the now black carpet, and a green light flashing underneath a fallen side table.