Alpha’s Strength(18)

“Nathan.” Cyrus walked with her over to the cage. “You owe Betsy an apology.”

“I would never apologize to her. She should be kissing the ground I walk on. Instead, she’s taken up with all of you. My father warned me that this could happen. This is the devil’s work. You’re all unnatural aberrations that need to be hunted down and killed.”

“Oh. We’ve got a true believer here.” Cyrus laughed. Mitchell and Jensen joined him. Betsy didn’t really see what was so amusing, but the male werewolves seemed to really enjoy his statement. “I haven’t had one of you in a cage for years. Tell me, how long ago did you guys join up?”

“What are you talking about?” If she was going to stand outside the cage and listen to this stuff, she needed to at least understand.

“There have always been humans who try to hunt us. Most dismiss our existence completely, but the ones who believe typically want us dead. It’s long been my pleasure to show them the error of their ways.”

“You’re saying your father knew about werewolves?” No one from her hometown went around talking about myths. They were too busy drinking and managing the livestock industry. Maybe doing both at the same time. Her parents didn’t even let her watch horror movies with werewolves or vampires—she’d snuck those.

“Everyone knew, you bitch.”

Cyrus growled again, but Nathan didn’t seem to notice. He kept talking. “My daddy killed more werewolves before I was born than he can count. He only stopped because my mom didn’t want him getting killed after I was born. But he could have been the greatest ever. In Montana, where we’re all from, he’s like a god.”

What the hell is he talking about? Because what Nathan described—that didn’t fit her image of his parents either. So, had everyone known the secret—except her?

“That so?” When Cyrus spoke, Betsy shuddered. She’d never heard him use that particular tone before. Calling it menacing didn’t do it justice. She turned to look at him, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms with her free hand. Hearing him that angry made her want to hyperventilate.

She struggled for composure. Why did it matter that Nathan’s family knew about werewolves? She was a werewolf. Had they known that? And why didn’t she know about her parents? Were they all latents? There were so many questions and no answers coming.

Cyrus dropped her hand and surged forward. In a blur of motion, he gripped Nathan by the neck and pulled him up against the bars. The other man gagged.

“Here’s how this works. I’m going to hand you a phone, and you’re going to use it to make your daily phone call. You aren’t going to use any code words to tip anyone off that all is not well. If you do that, I’ll know. I’ll smell it. My kind can do that. Make your call or die when my pack hunts you down during the next full moon. You’ll be the rabbit. We’ll be the wolves. There’s always a choice. This one is yours.”

Cyrus dropped him, and Nathan rolled around the floor of the cage and gasped for air.

“What’s it going to be? Call or die?”

“I’ll call.” He had to strain to talk.

“Good.” Cyrus turned to Jensen. “Get him some water. I wouldn’t want his daddy to suspect anything is wrong. Not even a sore throat.”

“Well, this is unexpected.”

Betsy jumped at the new voice and whirled around. A man she hadn’t met yet stood in the doorway. He was tall, maybe even an inch beyond Cyrus, which was impressive. He had long brown hair that hit shoulders. He was dressed impeccably in a black-on-black suit that reminded her of gangster movies she’d watched alone at night.

But it was his eyes that struck her. They were pure white. She’d never seen anything like them before. Her mouth hung open, and although she knew she must look like a landed fish, she couldn’t seem to shut her lips. In the same way she’d known Cyrus smelled like power, she knew the scent of power.

“You’re early.” Cyrus didn’t take his eyes off the cage to address the newcomer.

“I come when I please.”

“Not to my city you don’t, Alexei. You come when you’re invited and not a second before. Get out.”

No one in the room moved or made a sound except Nathan, who wept on the ground of the cage. Yet, Betsy knew Cyrus’ words amounted to a very big problem. She smiled, finally closing her mouth. Prickles of awareness broke out on her neck. Heavens, Cyrus had issued a challenge. There could be bloodshed with whoever this Alexei turned out to be. And the idea titillated her.

Heaven help her—what had happened to her?