𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍: 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐲

SIXTEEN: Execution

"Stay with my brother" Mateo directed Greg in a hard voice I had next to no experience hearing from him. He squeezed my shoulder with brotherly affection before he climbed over the edge of the balcony and carelessly jumped down the monstrously tall building. I ran over the edge and held on to the pillar on the balcony hoping he'd survived the leap. Because despite his rank, badges and strength he was still just a man who had the gene to turn into a wolf. 

Werewolves were ground to earth, with no zero flying ability. His leap had been a dangerous stunt that could left him with dead with his head open and blood splattered on the concrete pavement below. "Nevanji!" I called after him, with a deep set panic. Eyes frantically searching everywhere for any signs of a dead body or blood. "Mateo!"

Thankfully he had clawed his way up on the building edge with drawn nails clung into the concrete of the building. "I'm fine" He glanced below once, then climbed down the walls like a trained daredevil. I suppose he was trained for leaping over walls and crawling on them even in human form. Because he managed to patrol around them for a while without drawing the attention of the mass of werewolves still chanting for Dani's blood. My brother patrolled a little longer then came back to us but not to speak to me. "Tell Greg to open his mind link to me."

I relayed the message to Brady's friend who was a little further behind Greg to order on his own.

 Greg quickly took off his combat jacket and stood, feet shoulder width apart, eyes narrowed into nothing. He then moved over to the edge of the building but didn't jump out as Mateo had. His clear eyes scanned the distracted crowd moments before he threw down a syringe with a pink liquid down the balcony. He then called over one of the guards with a flick of his fingers. The guard brought on over a silver bullet vest, the Delta pushed it to my chest "Put this on."

My hands trembled but I still tried, very much confused by everything what they were all doing. The guards sparked out, a few remaining on guard for me and the rest in different corners. The crowd outside we even worse than me when it came to being aware that something chaotic was brewing. Greg growled a displeased and annoyed sound as he too stepped forward into my space. He gave a pat to my hands with irritation, then fastened the vest securely around me.

He leaned back, pulled a few strapped to test their knots and when he was satisfied with his work he looked down at me, jaw locked and with a bland expression. I looked him back in the eye, unlike back then before the bond was apparent to me when I'd avert from direct gazes. In fear, humiliation and prayers they wouldn't be in moods to taunt me or inspire that in other kids. His eyes searched mine, perhaps looking for the kid I was back when I had no backbone. 

I let me him see that kid was gone.

Finally he broke the silence. "I don't understand what your problem with Brady is?" Greg was possibly the least intense of the trio yet right then in his body language and facial expression toward me you'd think otherwise. His tone startled me, the way it was calm yet... unsettling. It made me shiver with a metaphorical grey cloud of fear raining over me. Perhaps that kid was still in me, maybe he'd never even left, maybe he was all I'd ever be.

I swallowed, squared my shoulders up for confidence and bit my lip in order to stop the sass back that was on top of my tongue. Sassing, lying, deception, treason, sin, guilt. All of it had become my family of fail proof defence mechanisms since I turned sixteen.

Greg spoke again "You know what sucks? You haven't changed. You're still so stuck up, too emotional and now? You're officially worse than a prissy un-claimed bitch in heat. You act like you're above us." eyes measuring my form, he licked his teeth with anger and continued. "It was annoying then and it's annoying now. Hell you don't deserve him with that attitude and best believe we're all praying the gods made a mistake here. If it were up to us, your head would be hanging from the top of a pup's spike."