Rise of the Dark Alpha

463 New Day

~ ZEV ~

Zev stood over the corpse he'd dragged into the forest, as far from the cave as he safely could. He'd allowed it to bleed out in a creek close to the cave, then dragged it through the water as far up the creek as he could until he reached the place where it poured off a small cliff. Then he dragged it into the trees so there would be no blood trail.

He was going to have to go back now and try to find a way to clear off the blood from the trail between the cave and the water.

As he caught himself analyzing all the ways he could hide his trail and any evidence of the human, he froze.

His heart was thudding hard and his adrenalin was still pumping. But he was standing over a bloodied body—a dead human being—and his hands barely shook. How was it possible that he was more concerned with the trail this guy's blood left to the cave where Sasha was than the fact that he'd just ended a life.

It was so wrong. So sick.

Why didn't he feel more?

He clawed a hand through his hair, then cursed himself. There was still blood on his hands, though most of it had been washed off both his wolf's fur, and his skin, in the freezing water.

He trotted back to the water and winced as he knelt down to wash his hands and forearms in it, even splashing some up into his hair to get out any residue of it there.

He'd just killed a man and he was worried about his hair?

Uneasy and sickened more by the idea of what he'd done, than the actuality of it, Zev found himself in that strange limbo again.

He'd forgotten.

It had been months since he'd been on any mission. But he'd always experienced this strange feeling afterward. Even when he'd been certain the killing was for a good reason. Even when he'd been so sure that he was right to have done it… it was like his body went to war with his mind.

For hours after a mission he'd walked around in a daze, his bloodstream pumped full of adrenalin and shock, but his mind crystal clear and functional.

His wolf was easy in his mind, in his chest. No longer fighting for release.

But his human heart thudded uncomfortably.

As if there were two parts of his entire body and soul, and they were on opposing sides of the war. And so he was frozen inside. Numb. Strangely disconnected from the world, as if he observed himself in it, rather than experiencing it.

He'd just killed a man, and his stomach grumbled.

Something was very, very wrong with him.

He took one last look back in the direction of the body. He'd torn it up with his teeth on purpose—

leaving generalized destruction, rather than feeding behaviors, hoping to throw off any human who might find him into believing he'd been attacked by creatures.

Zev knew that even though they'd seen the creatures dying in Horton's mind, the humans were convinced the Creatures were the true threat here. It wouldn't be a stretch for them to believe that one of them had gotten lucky.

He just prayed it wouldn't bring more wrath on the poor males who only wanted to be left alone.

Suddenly easy, Zev turned down the trail and started trotting. He was miles from the cave and needed to get back to see if Sasha was okay. She was likely very shaken.

*****

He'd heard the sniffing before he reached the cave mouth and his stomach dropped. He felt more in that moment, realizing that Sasha was crying, than he had for the past thirty minutes when he'd killed a man.

Finally, something about his thoughts registered in his gut, and a sudden jolt of sickening dread coursed through him. But he pushed forward and into the cave to find Sasha sitting on the floor to his right, head buried in her hands, with her knees curled up, sobbing.

"Babe, babe," he rushed forward. "Are you okay?"

Her head snapped up and she looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears and face blotchy.

"Zev! Are you okay?" she gasped and leaped to her feet, running to meet him. He pulled her into a hug.

"You're freezing!" she cried but didn't let go of him. "Zev, are you okay?"

Why wasn't he just answering the question? Yes, he was fine. He just needed to tell her that so she wouldn't worry. After all, he was freaked out about not feeling more, right?

He squeezed her hard and opened his mouth. But then his eyes fell on the blood on the floor, and the little footprints she'd left running back and forth between the door of the cave and the fire.

There was a mess in the firepit where it looked like she'd started a large fire, then… doused it? But his eyes kept going back to the bloodstains. Small pools and splatters were everywhere for a six-foot radius—then there were the drag marks that led right under their feet. His bare feet.

He was standing in the mostly-dry blood of the man he'd just killed.

Something inside him shuddered. Then cracked.

He blew out a breath and tried to shake it off. But Sasha hugged him tighter, pleading with him to talk to her, and every time he opened his mouth he was afraid to speak in case something else came out.

"I…."

He swallowed convulsively.

"Zev, it's fine. You're fine. I'm so sorry you had to do that. You're fine, look at me. Zev, look at me, I'm here!"

He finally tore his eyes from the blood and back down to look at her and looking into her gaze, the love that shone there, alongside the worry and turmoil… it broke him.

His chest huffed once, then twice. Then his vision began to blur.

He clawed both hands into his hair and had to look away from her again because it was all going to come out.

But then it did anyway.