Logan threw Calvin’s body aside and ran back to Marcel’s side; sirens wailed in the distance. Logan stilled as he came upon the sight of him sprawled on the floor. Oh Goddess no. He fell to his knees, grasping his old friend, pulling him up into his lap.
“Marcel, please man. You’ve gotta shift,” he begged.
“Too late…it’s silver,” Marcel whispered. “Not gonna make it.”
“Goddammit, Marcel. We need you. You can’t leave me. Tristan. Katrina. Hell, your whole pack. Your family. We need you. Now come on and shift,” he demanded.
Marcel coughed up blood and shook his head.
“Where the hell is 911?” Logan screamed, glancing over to the unidentified sobbing woman crumpled in the corner.
“Calvin. It was Calvin,” Marcel grunted.
“Yes. He’s dead. I killed him.” Logan couldn’t think. He’d killed Marcel’s beta. Calvin was the second strongest wolf in the pack. And Marcel, the Alpha, was dying in his arms. This couldn’t be happening.
“Logan, you’re Alpha now.”
“No…listen Marcel, you’re going to make it. I’m not…”
“Yes, you are. Tristan will understand. This is how this works. You know it. You’re my brother too…you’ve got to do this. You have no choice.”
Logan was crying, shaking his head, pulling Marcel’s head to his breast. Goddess no. Please Goddess no.
“Say it,” Marcel choked out, commanding him.
“No, I can’t. Please don’t leave, Marcel.”
“Say it!”
Resigned, Logan took a deep breath. He could hear Marcel’s heartbeat flutter. Tristan was right about nature and fucking goddamn fate. No one could fight her. Logan held his friend silently, listening as his pulse slowed. He swore revenge for his friend…for his pack. As the life faded from Marcel’s eyes, Logan held his gaze and assured his friend.
“I am Alpha.”