Free Fangs of Anarchy - Forbidden Alpha (Part 2) Girl Most Lycan: A Werewolf Vampire Shifter Romance by Dakota Cassidy Page A

face a stunned Courtland. “I killed Gannon. You said you had
a witness, right? Case closed. So let’s get this over with. Do whatever it is
you do with alpha-murdering werewolves, and let’s be done.”
    Irish stepped back in front of her, pushing her aside once
more. “Your witness is wrong, not to mention blind. It was me. Now giddy-up, pardner .” Irish turned, putting his hands behind his back to
indicate his submission to Courtland, but only after he winked at her and
smiled.
    Claire narrowed her eyes just before shoving him out of the
way with an elbow to his ribs, smiling in satisfaction when she heard Irish
grunt. “If your witness says he saw me, don’t you at least have to question me,
Courtland? What kind of show are you running here, amateur? Gannon’s dead. That
leaves you as alpha in charge, and it’s your responsibility to check out any
and all leads. I’d say a witness is a pretty big one, wouldn’t you? So, pony
up, alpha ,” she taunted, knowing full
well it would get his goat.
    His sibling rivalry with Gannon was legendary amongst the
pack. Courtland had always looked up to Gannon as some sort of bizarre mentor,
only to hate him for the mentoring.
    As if on cue, Courtland leaned in, his upper lip covered in
a film of perspiration, his face red with rage. “Is my brother’s death a joke
to you two?”
    Claire let her eyes go wide with mock horror. “Hah! Don’t be
such a goose. I didn’t laugh at the time, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean,
there was a lot of blood. He ruined a perfectly nice dress and a pair of shoes,
he bled so much. Believe you me, I was not laughing.”
    “ Claire …” Irish
warned, his voice gravelly and sinister.
    She flapped a hand over her shoulder in Irish’s general
direction. “And don’t listen to Doom and Gloom. He’s delusional. I killed
Gannon, and I can prove it.”
    Courtland’s meaty paws grabbed the front of her dress,
yanking her up until her feet dangled. “I’ll kill you, you stupid fucking cunt!”
    Irish became a blur of leather and fists when he snatched
Claire right out of Courtland’s hands as though he were plucking daisies from a
garden, and handed her over to his brother Liam.
    He flashed his fangs, hissing his anger at Courtland before
moving in on him, cold menace in his eyes, his jaw clenched tight.
    Irish was only taller than Courtland by an inch or so, but
that inch, coupled with his ability to loom with fierce intimidation, made him
appear ten feet taller. “You touch her again, and I’ll eat my way through your
intestines. And if I ever hear you address a woman like that in my presence, no
matter what you’re accusing her of, I’ll kill you, Courtland.”
    He gave the werewolf a hard shove, knocking him into the
Road Dogs while the Fangs laughed.
    “Now— I killed
Gannon, and I have the proof. Your witness is full of shit. So, you want proof
she’s lying or do you just want to manhandle her ’til I have to show your crew
here a little lesson in respect?”
    Proof? No. He hadn’t actually buried Gannon, had he? He’d left behind proof? Somewhere, in the
dark recesses of Claire’s muddled mind, she’d expected that Irish would leave
no evidence behind—not even a hint of Gannon’s scent , let alone his body.
    Of all the damn foolhardy things to do.
    No more foolhardy than
you forgetting to look for your intended’s ride, Genius.
    Okay, so she and Irish were both a couple of complete morons
when it came to lies and deception, but at least she would have taken measures to ensure Gannon was never found.
    Claire struggled to break the hold Liam had on her, but he
kept a tight grip around her wrists, his hands like bands of steel, his hissed
words at her ear. “Stop fighting me, Claire! Just let this play out, and trust.”
    Trust? No-no. Irish knew where Gannon was because he’d done
the body dumping. He had all the proof he needed. Oh God, she couldn’t believe
she hadn’t asked him what he’d done with