Dominating Alphas

And So We Fought

Taylor's POV

"I totally just realized," Jason said as we watched from the front of the attack lines. The army of rogues was coming close and closer--until we could see the whites (actually, it was more of a gray) of their eyes with our werewolf vision. "Michael and Taylor only went to school for, like, a day."

"Jason." Grayson's voice was unnaturally soft and quiet. "We're about to face the war of our lives. Maybe even the last war. There's a huge possibility we might all die and the thing you're worried about is Taylor and Michael's high school attendance?"

"Hey!" The redhead protested. "Education is important!" I smiled as I heard Grayson mutter something similar to 'making the other Stone brother Beta if we make it out alive'.

Everyone fell quiet as the rogues descended upon us like a shadow covering up the sunlight. All were in wolf form and as they ran towards us, we could hear the thundering of all their paws hitting the ground, the earth shaking underneath us. Grayson had an intense, determined look in those dark, cobalt eyes of his. I stood up straight and tall, erasing all signs of emotion on my face, trying to exemplify a strong leader in front of all the packs.

Grayson? I mentally called out through the mate link.

Taylor, his hand searched for mine and when he found it, he interlaced our fingers together. Bringing our entwined hands up, he placed a gentle kiss on them, his lips barely brushing my skin. "I love you." My breath caught in my throat. Without a care of what I exemplified, I stepped towards him and wrapped my arms around his taut waist. Grayson immediately enfolded me into his arms and I inhaled, drinking him in. He seemed to do the same, burying his head into my neck and breathing in deeply. Shutting my eyes, I rested my forehead against his firm chest.

"I love you too, Gray." I lifted my head and stared straight into those magnificent, electrifying blues of his. "And if you don't survive...I'll kill you."

Grayson gave me a roguish grin, which I found pretty ironic. I see where Michael gets the whole killing if you don't survive thing from now. He sobered up. One of his hands came up to my jaw and he tenderly caressed my cheek. I leaned into his touch and my hands bunched up the part of his shirt I was holding. It didn't seem fair to me. I had only just begun to experience what having a mate feels like and now...now these stupid rogues were here and, and...

I don't want to lose you. A tear managed to escape out of my shut eyes and I felt his soft, calloused thumb wipe it away.

"We're not losing anything," Grayson stated firmly. He pulled me closer to his chest. "Stay near me, okay?" I nodded, unable to do or say anything else.

This was it.

"IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN DO DO DO DOO DO DO DO DO DOO DO DO DO DOO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DOO DO DOOOOOOOOO—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, STONE."

"DON'T TELL ME HOW TO LIVE MY LIFE, BABE."

At least I would die smiling. Without further ado, I shifted and leaped into battle.

~

I'd like—scratch that—love to say that it was a piece of cake. I was badass Taylor, I could kill rogues in my sleep if I wanted to. But it wasn't easy. Not one bit.

After my thirtieth or thirty-third (I lost track after I slipped on what I desperately hoped was water but sadly knew it wasn't) kill, the adrenaline lost its kick. My energy was seeping fast, and we were only five minutes into it. I paused mid throat claw slash to check out who was still alive.

My eyes roamed around, darting everywhere to find familiar fur colors. I saw Michael's gold brown, my dad's midnight black, a bouncing ginger flash, and finally, a white gold.