Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 363: Turner Family

"You look perfect already. Stop fidgeting, Patrick," Cynthia scolded the doctor after he looked into the mirror for the nth time.

Patrick sighed. "It’s just the scar. It still..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his face, the words refusing to come.

His family probably knew the story behind that scar, and would no doubt sneer at him for letting a werewolf get the best of him.

But Cynthia pressed a hand against his chest and said, "You should wear that scar as a badge of honor. You survived a werewolf attack. Not just any werewolf, but a cardinal alpha. How many people can say the same? Your family especially?"

Then, rising on her tiptoes, she kissed him briefly. "The world is yours tonight, my love. Own it."

A slow smile crossed Patrick’s face. He reached out, offering his hand, and Cynthia placed hers over it with a faint blush.

"Well, thank you," she said softly.

Hand in hand, he led her to the living room where his family waited.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up? Our own baby brother, Patrick Vale." Vera Turner clapped slowly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Although, does your Alpha king know your true identity? Or the fact your name is fake, Elias?" Her voice shifted, eyes darkening with twisted glee.

"That is not the way to speak to your brother, Vera," Moria Turner chided from the side.

Vera rolled her eyes.

"Oh well," said a man at the corner, drink in hand, "I guess your favorite son is here."

That was Joseph Turner, the eldest son of the Turner family who were werewolf hunters, descendants of Gerald, the general who fueled the war between humans and wolves.

Moria said to

a long minute until she pulled

kept her face neutral, though a

she?" Vera asked suddenly from behind, startling

Cynthia nearly jumped.

smirked, that glint in her eyes

not bad," Joseph chimed in,

people really loved sneaking up

toward Patrick. "Can I have her for the night,

Coming from a

lay a hand on her," Patrick warned

out and brought a strand of Cynthia’s hair to her nose, inhaling deeply. "She smells

Cynthia stepped back,

there’s anything left to

my piece now?" Vera purred. "Maybe just a lock of her hair. A

off me!" Cynthia snapped, pulling a gun from her pocket

was amused, unfazed by the weapon

down the

was filled with hyenas, and she couldn’t tell

curved. "Or perhaps, I could help her do so." The words barely left her mouth before she moved

even realize the gun had been taken until it was gone, her hand empty and twisted behind her. The

Vera murmured in a singsong voice, her breath hot against Cynthia’s ear, "but I like knives. I mean, I love the way

escaped Cynthia’s lips as a thin line of pain bloomed across