Paul shook his head with disbelief, deciding the children were a higher priority than watching two grown men squabble. "Step away from the blessed ones," he ordered.
Clarice didn't move.
"As Alpha of this territory, I order you to—"
Clarice leaned forward, her hatred jumping from her like a living thing. "You are Alpha of nothing, you piece of trash. Delia took you in for one purpose, and you couldn't even do that."
Clarice's taunts bounced off Paul like pebbles against a stone. "You leave me no choice, Clarice Walker. I sentence you to death by the pack. Do you have anything final to say?"
Her eyes narrowed, her chin high. "You wouldn't dare—"
Nana shifted, leaping on the woman before she could finish her sentence. She dragged her, screaming, by the head behind the couch where the children could not see.
But I did.
"Take the children," Branson told Tyrone and Paul. "We'll handle the rest."
Bran tried to climb over Tyrone's shoulder, fighting to remain with his father, but Tyrone shushed him, patting him gently. "You fought well, pup. Now let your father handle the rest."
Clarice's screams turned into whimpers. Tyrone and Paul carried the children, shielding them from the violence and closing the door behind them. Nana growled once more, and Clarice's whimpers turned permanently silent.
Glendon was oblivious to his mate's demise. He still fought with John up and down the hallway. The two pushed from each other at the same time, their backs slamming against opposite walls.
As if dazed, Glendon took in the sight of his wife. He spotted me and fell to his knees, his hands clasped and pleading. "I didn't want to do any of it. Your mother…and Delia…they—"
Branson moved to my side so we stood shoulder to shoulder. "Delia will rot in prison. You could have too. You made the choices that brought you here, Glendon, no one else."
Wyatt went to Branson's other side as Nash came to mine. We were a united front, four men who were done living under the shadows of their parents.
John didn't try to plead. He'd lost any relationship with his sons long ago and must have known begging would get him nowhere.
Glendon must have realized the same thing because he stood, scowling, his moods changing faster than a strobe light. "You were a disappointment," he growled, attempting, even in his last moments, to tear me down.
"I don't care."
We shifted as one. The fight was brief, the struggle short. We were alphas after all, each one of us. And they were nothing but sad, tired monsters. Despite knowing this was absolutely what had to happen, when the brutal task was finished, not one of us was left without tears in his eyes. I wiped mine away as Branson and the other two did the same.
"It had to be done," Branson said.
None of us disagreed.
Outside, Hollister had Autumn pressed against his face as he nuzzled her like a wolf would its child. Riley, Phin, and Kansas did the same, though Julie stood with Phin, helping him control the twins, who still snarled anytime someone swayed too close.
I brought mate and daughter into my arms, needing a few moments to just stand and hold them. My cousins would need the same.
At some point, wolves circling us began to howl. One after another, the shifters let their voices lift to the sky as if they were all realizing the same things at once.
We'd found the children.
The ex-Elders were gone.
For the first time in decades, this pack was free.
Chapter Twenty-one
Hollister
"Madison, you spit your brother's foot out, right now," Phin scolded.
The cannibalistic child in question rolled off her brother with a huff. The maneuver brought her closer to Autumn, but Madison's entire body language changed as she took in the younger child. She smiled sweetly into her cousin's face before bending down to kiss her on the forehead.
The twins might have liked to torture each other, but they were both protective of their cousins, particularly Calvin and Autumn.
As they grew older and more of their personalities shone through, watching the way the children interacted with the world around them was a humbling experience. We'd all worried about the lasting effects that being kidnapped would have on them, particularly Bran, but the kids had shown us just how tough they were. Issues might still arise in the future, but we all knew what to look out for.
But, for all their amazing qualities, sitting still for a picture wasn't one of them.
We'd been trying at it for the past ten minutes but were no closer to getting a shot that showed each adorable face looking toward the camera with their eyes open. We'd given up on smiles two minutes in and now would settle for one where none of them was just a blur.
"Let her establish her dominance," Nash suggested with a devilish gleam. "It's never too early to learn how to defend yourself."
"But it is too early for your son to lose a toe," Phin countered.
Nash pretended he had to think about that, which prompted Phin to elbow him gently.
"I'm here. I've brought reinforcements." Julie walked through the glass door to where we'd spent most of the afternoon outside on the back patio. She had a bag of toys that I assumed were going to act as distractions. Nana followed behind, her hair twisted back into a thick braid.
The others told me she was thinner now than she'd been, but other than that, she looked exactly the same. She'd been tight-lipped about her time in the forest. All she really shared was that when the spirits came to her, telling her the children had been taken, she'd left immediately. Thinner or not, all I saw when I looked at Nana Walker was a strong, independent woman who relied on her wisdom…and spirits.
I had yet to get a definitive answer on what people thought the spirits were. Ghosts? Angels? Her own intuition? I didn't think I'd ever get a straight answer, but really, who were any of us to question her ability? I could sense emotions, Riley made people tell the truth, Kansas could knock a person out in seconds—and he was getting better and not overloading as much, too—and Phin could literally heal people. In the grand scheme of things, what she did wasn't that odd.
"Oh good," Aver's low voice rumbled close to my ear. "Nana's here." He lifted me by the waist, unceremoniously hauling me over his shoulder. "Nana, will you keep an eye on Autumn? I need to take my mate into the woods."
My face burned, hovering just above Aver's ass. I vowed silently to make him pay for basically telling his great-grandmother that we wanted to go bone. He'd told me he was waiting for her to arrive but not why.
"I could've watched her," Riley muttered, sitting next to Phin on the grass in front of where we'd attempted to stage the children.
They'd already scattered. Even Calvin had rolled over and was trying to army crawl toward where Nash and Wyatt were throwing the football.
"That's okay," Aver said, fishing his hand into my back pocket, where he pulled out my phone. "Keep an eye on this too. He won't need it."
I smacked his ass, but the neanderthal acted like he hadn't felt it. He turned to Nana, waiting for her reply.
"I will, son."
I couldn't meet Nana's gaze. This wasn't our first social gathering since she'd returned. It had been a month since the Walker alphas had come together to remove the pack's greatest threats, and she'd been a daily visitor since then, along with Julie and Paul.