Jack
“I said bow down!” Deacon repeats as he holds the severed head of his cousin, King Alistair.
I looked around, and everyone was just staring at the crazed former alpha. None of us move to bow.
Deacon roars with frustration and tosses Alistair’s head at my feet. “OBEY ME!” He stomps.
“What kind of king stomps his feet like an angry toddler?” I speak up.
Deacon’s dark eyes look right at me. “You!” He shouts.
“Me,” I taunt him and step toward him. “You claim to be the king, but none of us felt a shift in power.” I look over at Sparky, who has an amused look on his face.
“Right you are, Jack,” Sparky glances at me, then at his half-brother. “None of us felt the shift, Deacon. Which means the goddess hasn’t accepted you as the king.”
“f**k you, Samuel,” Deacon spats.
“Is that any
