Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

#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-”

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

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

on my claws as the blood drips down his face. As he realizes what I’m saying. That he is going to die But

That’s up to me.

I say again, gentler this

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

see me move, I rip my claws again over his face – raking some in the fresh wounds I

my claws cut deep, severing several fingers and slicing deep into the tendons of his

the curled forms of

“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

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

gone, he has the child

working to cover his face again

don’t know!” he cries. “He

he have!?” I command, shoving the priest’s hands away from his face so that I can look down on him again. “More priests?

he moans, shaking his head. “We were – we were the last we were supposed to hold you here – “he grits his teeth now, finding some level. of frustration in this, almost not believing that we found a way to defy his

– because frankly, I don’t care. Instead, I raise a fist to shoulder height and then smash it, again and again, into the Priest’s clenched teeth, reducing his face to a

as the blood flows quick. And then, as his hands fall

of a man, who dedicated his life to darkness. For what? For

almost audible click as the magic leaves the house. I don’t know what it was – wards to tell him where we were? Further protections? It doesn’t

hall, a form staggers to his feet and I recognize Conor as he moves

holding his left

pulsing through me for such a dedicated soldier, who wants to complete the mission even while he’s hurt. “Sweep the rooms,” I command, my eyes already moving to Dominic, my true priority here. “The priest claimed his master was gone. We need to ensure that it’s true. Take…whoever you can,” I say, moving to