Mated To The Exiled Monster Alpha

Ston

ed rock for a spade, my bare hands for everything else. I stripped off my shirt, the cool air a wel

the hard, rocky soil. The physical exertion was a release, a way to channel the storm inside me into something produ

quiet. "Stone! I heard you've taken a liking to th

ful of warriors in tow. They swaggered into my clear

y ignoring the work I'd done. "These oaks are fine specimens,

tuation, Stone. The pack requires this timber. It's a matter of commu

rom my brow, tracing a path through the grime on my face. I didn't say a w

r. He puffed out his chest, his voice rising

I felt it as a faint pressure against my mind, an annoying buzz, nothing more. My wolf scoffed

the air like a shard of obsidian. "You don't want the timbe

ared I would one day challenge his ownership of my family home. This

ce all claim to the Stone family house. In exchange, you will grant me permanent, und

g a mansion for a shack. It was an act of weakness, o

was better than he could have hoped for. He could secure

I agree," he declared, his tone dripping with condesce

, pressing our bloody hands against a large boundary stone. Arthur spoke the

y expression unreadable. They thought they had won. They had no idea

e I could be left utter

an old, rusted axe left behind by the cabin's last occupant. The head was fixed, though rusted, the handle rough

muscles surge to the surface. My biceps swelled, the vei

I sw

that tore through the forest's tranquility. It was the sound of air being ripped apart, of wood fibers b

elt miles away in the Packhouse. The goblet in Arthur's hand would tremble, a faint ripple marring the surface of his wine

d, froze, their heads snapping toward the eastern woods,

ssault on the senses. Each shriek was a physical blow, a wa

ent a few of his bravest

xe a silver arc of death in my hands. I was felling a massive, ancient oak, a tree that should have taken a team of lumberjacks a full day to bring do

aned. Then, with a final, deafening crack, it fell, shaking the very ground they stood o

ck to the Packhouse, thei

lpha," one of them stammered, his eyes wide with horro

dling into a cold, sickening dread. He had not exiled a broken rogue. He had ca