My Jealous Alpha Stepbrother
Chapter 67

Josie

My anger takes me into the forest. I’m on my way to Misha’s grave. I don’t know why, but sitting close to it puts me at ease. Which is why I can’t walk through the woods quick enough.

I’m frustrated and angry and so pissed off at Asher! How can he be such a freaking jerk?! Misha is dead, and his spirit should be respected, but Asher kept saying one mean thing after the other. And he also said that I was… that I’m…

Tears gather in my eyes. I know I’m to blame for Misha’s death, but hearing someone say it? It hits differently. I’m hurting all over, and my eyes are so blurry it’s hard to see where I’m walking.

I also wear high heels and a black dress that isn’t made for jogging in the forest. I’m looking all pretty, which is so unlike me.

My hobby is fencing and kickboxing—not wearing dresses and makeup. If Misha had been alive, he would laugh at me. I’m tall, and I was taught early how to fight. But being a girl? No one showed me how, and I bet my makeup is put on all wrong.

“Why do I even care?” I ask myself because, let’s face it: talking to myself and my dead childhood friend are my biggest flaws.

I continue half-running through the woods but stop when I hear a twig c***k. At first, I just assume it’s a deer. Then this foul smell hits my nose, and every hair stands on edge on my body.

What is that?

I’ve never smelled something like this before. It makes me wary, and I silently take off my high heels before stripping out of my dress. I don’t want to ruin my clothes, but I shouldn’t stay in my human form when overwhelmed by this weird stank.

I say stank because there is no other way to describe it. The scent reminds me a lot of rot. And after I’ve shape-shifted into my lycan form, I hear rustling, and it’s closer than before.

My head whips around, and then I see something I’ve only seen in history books: a chimera.

It’s larger than life; its skin is black, and smoke is coming off it. But even though it looks like a shadow creature, there is no mistaking its three heads: one of a lion, one of a goat, and the last of a dragon. It’s why I believe it’s a chimera.

But what is it doing here? We werewolves protect our city and territory from supernatural creatures, but there haven’t been any attacks here in years! Why now?!

There is no time to think of an answer. I hear another roar and realize there is more than one chimera. When I glance around the woods, I count to four and gulp.

This will be such a pain…

I leap forward and tear my claws through the first chimera. It’s large, but so am I—my lycan stands at a proud nine feet. Smaller than my dad because I’m a female, but I’m just as deadly!

A roar rips from my throat as I use my razor-sharp claws to destroy my enemy. A victory song is playing in my head, but it’s not over yet.

I didn’t count on the creatures working together—when I kill the first monster, the other ones jump at me.

“GRAH!” The chimeras roar as they bite into my arms and dig their teeth under my skin.

My vision momentarily blacks, but I’m quick to recover. I won’t go down like this and gather strength to smash at the chimeras.

A rage is building in my head—something I use to my advantage whenever I fight. I’m ready to use it to turn the tide, but sudden fire from a dragon head and my fur are on fire!

I scream in agony and somehow manage to break free from the many chimeras holding me. I rush forward. There is a lake, and I shape-shift into a human before diving in.

I’m not thinking straight because while the water puts out the flame, I’m defenseless when a chimera bites my shoulder and drags me from the water. I scream and kick with my feet.

“Let me go!”

My anger is rising again, and even though I’m exhausted, I’m about to shape-shift back into a lycan. It’s a bad idea since every shape-shift takes energy, but suddenly the chimeras stop fighting me.

They all turn eerily silent as if waiting for something, and soon I see what they are all focused on: ice is fanning over the green grass at a rapid speed that isn’t natural.

“W-what is happening?”

I widen my eyes when more frost spreads over the ground. The chimeras don’t like it. They roar and look around in a frenzy. One of them even tries to escape the scene. It runs further into the woods, but there is no use.

The ice isn’t stopping. It covers the legs of the chimeras and keeps them motionless. It causes more panic among them—they scream and roar, but soon there are no sounds as they all turn into see-through ice blocks.

Holy shit…

What kind of magic is this?

There aren’t any magic users among the werewolves; even if they were, this is powerful magic. The whole atmosphere is cold, and tiny snowflakes circle down from the sky.

I’m in shock, half-convinced that this is a dream. Who did this? My eyes study the frozen monsters that shatter like glass, destroyed in the blink of an eye. What the heck?!

I flare my nostrils because someone must be here, and the scent in the air shocks me to my core. It smells like… a vampire? But different. There is even a hint of a werewolf.

My head whips around in that direction, and I stare further into the woods. Two glowing red eyes are looking back at me. Calculating, emotionless, and so familiar I’m shocked to the core.

It couldn’t be…

The person in the forest is a tall man. He has also noticed me looking at him, and stares back for a moment, then rips his gaze away. As he does, he scratches the back of his neck.

I continue to watch him.

His skin is pale, and his hair is white and long. I replace his beautiful face striking, but a second later, I’m pretty damn distracted by his chest. The only clothing he is wearing is a pair of too-small sweatpants. His broad chest is all bare, and oh boy.

Everywhere my eyes roam, there are pectorals, delts, and huge biceps and obliques, all so perfect they could be made of marble. This guy looks like he hasn’t had a single lazy day in his entire life.

But the thing that got my heart hammering isn’t his appearance. Its a certain sadness in his eyes, and I whisper, “Misha?”

The man turns around, but he doesn’t respond. He looks at me for a brief second and then takes off like lightning. I’m left staring after him, and I rub my eyes. That couldn’t have been Misha, right?

The last time I saw Misha, he was a cute, innocent boy shorter than me without any powers. That man? He was hulking and staggering and could control ice—it couldn’t have been Misha! Right?!