The Blood-Book III

Chapter 52: Twist and Shout

"Get the hell off of me!"

"Where are we!"

"I'm going to kill you all!"

"Shut up!" Micah bark out, annoyance in his eyes, before the warriors behind Fitz, Torrence, and Brandon removed their blindfolds.

I laughed under my breath. Micah had this tough mountain rugged exterior but really he was kind of a goofball. His dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes, like Cora's, was blowing in the mountain wind. Rugged exterior with a facade to match it; his muscles and wrinkles all gifts from living a life that was harsher on these mountains.

The alphas kneeling before us were blinking hard, snarling because recognition had still not quite his them. It was then that the real Micah showed; he rolled his eyes and eyed my father for approval like a kid asking his mother if he could have another cookie. He snarled out again at them, fierce like the mountain wind that shut the mouth's of the other alphas.

"Is it five o clock yet?" he asked my father.

My father laughed to himself and shrugged. "Somewhere Micah."

"Quit snarling, christ, you sound like a hormonal just shifted wolf who can't stop pissing everywhere!" he snapped out at Brandon who was still snarling lowly, causing him to cease with wide eyes at it hit him. Realization.

Brandon looked like he was about to puke while Torrence started to shiver as my father looked them over. "We're sorry about kidnapping you. We'll return you in one piece but we needed to talk."

"Shit, are we on roofies?" Torrence asked before he snapped his eyes to me. "Are you–shit, you're that Luna! The one that died!"

"I swear to the moon if any of you lose your stomach on our mountain you're cleaning it up!" Micah bit out as Fitz covered his mouth, nausea creeping up on him.

"Yes, I'm obviously not dead now," I replied with a smile tugging at my lips.

"What kind of drugs are these?" he breathed out before he looked around.

"You're not on drugs you ninny!" Micah replied, throwing his hands up while my father chuckled some more.

"Micha is right," my father answered as he rolled his eyes. "I am Ha–Alpha Hadrian King, this is my mate Willa and you seem to know my daughter."

"What do you want?" Torrence rushed out, his voice slightly shaking.

"Well, it seems like my younger brother and his daughter, that witch, have made everyone's life hell, so, in turn, I plan to make their's hell."

"How?" Brandon asked.

My father smiled then went on to explain to them how we got where we were, who we were, and what our plan was. More or less, they were all dumbfounded. We brought them to the pack hall where Cora and I brought them some soup; they ate until seemed like they were snapping out of their shell shock. Then they were mad; mad and ready to fight with us.

Torrence pushed his bowl back after he finished the soup and eyed my father. "Well shit Sherlock, sign me up."

"We need help with the rogues in the warehouses."

"Hell yes, we need the extra men," Brandon added.

"If they don't want to fight do not make them," my mother stated firmly. "They have been through hell and we will not impose on them what the last people did."

"But if they want to, then let them fight," my father said. "They deserve justice for what happened to them. If they are well enough then they can fight."