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-”

opening four deep wounds across his cheeks, his nose, his lips. He

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

my claws as the blood drips down his face. As he realizes what I’m saying.

That’s up to me.

I say again,

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

his face – raking some in the

deep, severing several fingers and slicing deep into the tendons of his hand so that they are useless to him now –

to the curled forms of his sliced fingers, staring

roar, leaning over him now, “Or by your God’s own name I will do it

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

he has

to cover his face again but only succeeding

he cries. “He didn’t tell

command, shoving the priest’s hands away from his face so that I can look

finding some level. of frustration in this, almost not believing that we found a way to

I don’t let him finish – 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

use my claws to cut his throat, watching as the blood flows quick. And then,

to spend no more time with this wretch of a man, who dedicated his life to darkness. For what? For the chance to wield some spells? To feel, for a moment, that he was

men. And I can tell the moment that the priest dies. Because there is an 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

the hall, a form staggers to his feet and I recognize Conor

he says, limping a little and holding his left arm close

eyes already moving to Dominic, my true priority here. “The priest claimed his master was