Alpha’s Strength(79)

“Relax.” His voice moved over her when he placed his hand on her claw. Warmth travelled up her spine, and her hand shifted back to human. “See? No big deal.”

“Right.” She tried to smile but must have failed because he furrowed his brows.

“Cyrus,” Beaux called out. “Come say goodbye to these fools. They have to go meet their maker.”

Her mate smiled at her. “Give me a second. Then we’ll talk about what to do with your parents.”

That was a subject she really didn’t want to broach. It obviously had to be dealt with, and apparently Cyrus wasn’t a fan of hide–under-the-covers-and-hope-it-goes-away behavior. “Sure.”

He turned and walked toward Beaux. What was she going to do? Just hang out by the tree line and wait for him? Surely there had to be something she could do. Was there a place to order dinner somewhere within fifty miles? Her hand throbbed, and a second later, it shifted into its wolf form again.

“Oh. Damn it.” What the hell was going on? Maybe she should have Lake take a look. Was something wrong with her?

A scent caught her attention, and she turned around. What was it? Foul, like rotten meat, the aroma wafted over her nose. She turned back at the group of werewolves. No one else seemed to notice or else they weren’t concerned. Maybe the scent hadn’t reached them yet.

Betsy covered her nose with her hand and started walking in the direction of the smell. Something had to be dead. That could be the only explanation. An animal that needed to be disposed of before it stunk up the entire surrounding area.

This was something she knew how to do. Growing where and how she had, she knew how to take care of maintenance issues, including the removal of dead carcasses. Probably not something she’d have to do in New York City anytime in the future.

First, however, she needed to find the thing. Her nose would go a long way to helping, and at least it gave her something to do while Cyrus and Beaux did whatever Alpha thing they were going to do.

The dead deer had been there a long time. She bent over to look at it. Why had Beaux and the others left this to rot so close to their home? Maybe they had some weird thing about not moving things they had killed? Had they been the reason the deer had died?

She sighed. Why did she care? Was she looking for ways to distract herself from the fact that things kept getting worse and worse?

Betsy bit her lip. Was she going to start killing deer and other animals when she shifted? Was that what happened?

“I didn’t expect to catch you alone so quickly.”

Betsy jolted. It had been months since she’d heard her mother’s voice, and rather than the pleasant tones she was used to, even if the words the woman spoke were distant recently, the menace in the other woman’s tone made goose bumps appear on Betsy’s skin.

She could now smell her mother, although her approach had been completely masked by the scent of the rotting animal. Her mother’s scent came across as spicy, and it burned Betsy’s eyes.

“Mom.”

Her mother had always looked as though she stepped out of a sitcom. Now gray-haired and wrinkled, she raised a gun and pointed it at Betsy. “Why did you have to succumb to the darkness? Why couldn’t you have remained pure?”

Betsy raised her hands in the air in what she hoped was a gesture of surrender. Her mother’s eyes widened when she did, and Betsy silently cursed the impulse to have brought her hands up since they were, in fact, claws.

“Look at you.” A tear slipped from her mom’s eyes. “You’re a monster.”

“I’m not a monster. I promise you. I’m still the same as I ever was. I’m as I was meant to be. But I’m still the same girl I was before. The one who lived with you—who loved you.”

“No.” Her mother shook her head. “You’re not.”

“Betsy.”

Cyrus called her name, and Betsy tried to swallow through the fearful lump that had formed in her throat. He would find her. The second she didn’t answer, he’d sniff the air, and even though she stood near what she now suspected was a purposefully placed dead carcass, he’d find her.

He’d stop this.

“Mama, if we can talk about this, then I’m sure we can—”

The loud noise stopped her breathing, and she blinked rapidly as she tried to identify where the explosion had come from. It was then she noticed the smoke coming out of her mother’s gun. They’d had that thing forever. It was antique, belonged to her great-grandfather. Strange thoughts but all she could focus on…

“Mom?” Something was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to make any sense of it. What had happened?