Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 697

Capítulo 697: The Law Of War

With Micah’s help and the advantage of surprise, it was no wonder they had subdued the rebels in no time. Unknown to them, from the moment Micah stepped onto the estate, he had already charmed enough wolves to quietly get rid of those guarding the entrances. It gave their forces the perfect opening to lay siege without raising suspicion.

Cane’s arrogance had been his downfall. His mistake was believing that with Asher gone, he could end the Nightshade reign just like that. But Asher was not Henry. Asher had formed real bonds with people willing to risk everything for him. If this had been Henry, Irene, for starters, would have gladly watched the West Pack burn to ash.

Good riddance.

Not to mention, Cane had started all of this with betrayal.

If he wanted to be Alpha so badly, he should have challenged Asher and won like an Alpha should, not slither through the coward’s route. An Alpha was a leader; the rest of the hierarchy looked up to them. So yes, the sensible West wolves would rather die than let Cane turn their pack known for resilience and discipline into a laughingstock.

No coward was going to be Alpha.

In no time, every wolf in the estate was forced to their knees in the field, subdued and stripped of their weapons. Even the sub-alphas who had sided with Cane were treated no differently. They too were on the ground, awaiting judgment.

Not all the alphas had supported Cane.

Alpha Uzzarh—one of the only three sub-alphas with packs outside the West borders like Ezra—had chosen to run. He hadn’t aligned with Cane, but he hadn’t supported Ezra either. He picked neutrality.

That, of course, would be addressed when this was over.

There was no neutrality in war. As long as they operated under the West Pack banner, every sub-alpha was expected to rally under their Alpha and fight his wars. The same way the four alphas would fight Elijah’s wars.

As if Asher had foreseen his own disappearance, he had made it clear that Ezra would take his place in his absence.

Of course, the role should have fallen to Jeremiah, but the wolf was still too inexperienced to handle those snakes —barely respected by the older ranks. If they didn’t take Asher seriously half the time, they would absolutely tear Jeremiah apart. Ezra was the safer choice until Jeremiah grew into his strength.

Alpha Lemiel, the other Alpha, had been the one to send reinforcements, and with Alpha Leon’s wolves joining the cause, they finally had enough numbers to confront Cane and his band of rebels.

Naturally, not all sub-alphas were present. The rest would be hunted down later by Irene’s wolves once they arrived in a few hours. And like they always said: cut off the Hydra’s head, and the body collapses. Now that their instigator had fallen, the others would scatter like frightened birds, making them easy targets.

Except their instigator was missing.

“Where is he?” Ezra roared, scanning the crowd.

He stood bare-chested, wearing only the pair of pants one of his men had thrown at him minutes after he’d taken down the last of the rebels. They had minimized bloodshed as much as possible, but any wolf who refused to surrender had been put down. That was the law of war.

“Where is Cane? Don’t tell me we let him escape?” he demanded, addressing no one in particular as he stalked toward his allies—Alpha Irene and her husband Aeron, Alpha Leon and Alexa, who had surprisingly agreed to fight.

Naturally, Nancy was not here. She was at the West Pack house where she was safe.

There was no damn universe where Ezra would risk his pregnant wife on a battlefield.

“I last saw him with Micah,” Alexa said. “And since Micah isn’t here either, I’m guessing they’re together.”

“So where are they then?” Leon demanded. “Micah was supposed to deliver Cane to us. Don’t tell me he has other plans with him?”

“What plans?” Irene snapped, her eyes flashing. “He risked his life for this. What in the world could he gain from betraying us now?”

“I don’t know,” Leon shot back. “You’re the one who hired the demon, remember?”

Of course, the hot-tempered Irene exploded. “You dumb piece of—”

But before she could finish, the air rippled and both Micah and Cane materialized out of thin air, cutting off their argument mid-curse.

Micah landed lightly on both feet. Cane, however, hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Everyone waited for him to rise and start raging over his failed rebellion but he didn’t move. His shoulders began to tremble and before anyone could make sense of it, a small whimper escaped him.

At first, no one believed what they heard. But the broken sound came again and until it cracked open into a full sob.

A stunned silence blanketed the entire field for a moment before murmurs rushed through the air.

Was the leader of the rebellion crying?

No one dared voice it aloud, as if naming it would shatter reality itself.

Maybe he was mourning his loss. Yes, that had to be it, they thought. Because this was really strange to comprehend.

Ezra’s head snapped toward Micah.

“Where did you take him? What did you do to him?”

Micah shrugged casually, “Just took him out of the picture while you all reclaimed the pack.”

“See?” Irene said pointedly, shooting Leon a glare.

Leon Draven had nothing to fire back with this time.

Micah continued, unbothered.

“Although, I may have given him a little preview of his afterlife.” His lips twitched, dramatic as ever. “But I’m afraid he’ll need therapy after that. Oh wait… there’s no therapy in hell. Just punishment.”

The moment those words left Micah’s mouth, Cane wailed loudly.

“Please! Don’t kill me!”

He lurched forward toward Ezra, driven by desperation. But the sudden movement looked too much like an attack, and Ezra reacted on instinct by kicking Cane squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling across the dirt.

Realizing the mistake, Cane scrambled up, this time approaching on his knees like the others. He rubbed his trembling fingers together, begging frantically:

“Please don’t kill me! Please! Do anything else—hurt me, break my hands, my legs, anything—I’ll take it. Just don’t send me there yet. Let me make penance. Please! I don’t want to go to hell! I beg you!”

Now, what do you all say? Do we send the bastard straight to hell, or do we cripple him so badly he’ll never hurt anyone again? Your call. Majority takes the vote.