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-”

across his face, opening four deep wounds across his cheeks, his nose, his lips. He shrieks in pain and covers his face

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

blood drips down his face. As he realizes

That’s up to me.

say

more courage and hate in himself as he snarls the words at me, as he

I rip my claws again over his face – raking some in the fresh wounds I just

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

flat to the floor next to the curled forms of his sliced fingers, staring up at his mangled

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

that I don’t know if his words are shaking in shock or fear or…something else. But I have every reason to believe

has the child

to cover his face again but only succeeding

cries.

does he have!?” I command, shoving the priest’s hands away from his face so that I can look down on

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

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 a bloody,

claws to cut his throat, watching as the blood flows quick.

want 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 powerful

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

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

limping a little and holding his left arm close to his

nod to him, a surge of gratitude 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