Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate (PDF) novel Chapter 372

#Chapter 372 – Burn Out

Roger

Less time probably passes than it feels like. Because it feels like hours of being seared by fire, of the Priest hurling spells at us.

And it’s not fire alone – it’s flames first, and then slicing spells that cut at us, and then wind – and ice – and something that feels like acid in the air that creeps into our lungs and makes us hack –

But slowly, slowly he burns himself out. And our men fall, screaming. But in the end, it’s me who prowls towards him in my wolf’s body, ignoring the aches and pains that come with every step. It’s me.

I step over my brother’s limp form, doing my best to ignore the fact that what breaths pulse from Dominic’s lips are short and shallow. That his eyes are shut, that whole swathes of his skin are burned away.

I only have eyes for him, this cornered Priest, at the end of this. Because it is the end. And I have him trapped.

Then, because I want him to see me in a form he can understand, I shift back into my human body, wincing as I do so, as the pains of my flesh reform themselves on hands instead of paws, on my legs instead of my haunches.

“Tell me” I command, as I stand before him, cowered in his corner.

“I will tell you noth-”

But I roar, allowing my nails to arc into claws that I slash across his face, opening four deep wounds across his cheeks, his nose, his lips. He shrieks in pain and covers his face before looking up at me.

“You will tell me,” I continue, crouching down in front of him, unblinking in my determination and my fury. “Because while you may be prepared to die for your god,” I say, holding up my hands so he can see my weapons there, “I don’t think that your little order prepared you for days, weeks, or months of torture. Little priest.”

And his eyes shift then to focus on my claws as the blood drips down his face. As he realizes what I’m saying. That he is going to die But when?

That’s up to me.

“Tell me,” I say again, gentler this time.

“I already did,” the priest grinds out, finding a little more courage and hate in himself as he snarls the words at me, as he winces at the feel of his face shifting when he speaks, at the new pain there. “I told you the master is gone-”

Quickly, before he can see me move, I rip my claws again over his face – raking some in the fresh wounds I just placed there, but also opening some new ones for good measure.

He screams, then, at the pain of it, his hands flying to cover his wounds. But I slash at those next, letting my claws cut deep, severing several fingers and slicing deep into the tendons of his hand so that they are useless to him now – for the rest of his short life.

The Priest screams again, falling flat to the floor next to the curled forms of his sliced fingers, staring up at his mangled hands.

“TELL ME!” I roar, leaning over him now, “Or by your God’s own name I will do it AGAIN! And I will keep doing it until you are nothing but SHREDS OF WHAT YOU ONCE WERE!”

The priest trembles as he looks up at me, in so much pain now that I don’t know if his words are shaking in shock or fear or…something else. But I have every reason to believe they’re honest.He no longer has any reason to lie.