For Somebody Like Me

Harry didn't bother to add his voice to his pack's, nor did Eggsy. No one in their right mind would think they didn't want Chester King dead, so Harry focused his intention instead on his mate. Moving to stand behind Eggsy so that he could hug him back against his chest, Harry nuzzled his cheek against the shorter man's hair as he offered silent comfort. There was nothing he could say to make this better; not for either of them. And while all attention was currently on the Kings Harry couldn't risk Eggsy breaking down with emotion in front of his grandmother or her brother. The less attention they paid Eggsy the better right now.

There was nothing a King loved more than a sign of weakness they thought they could exploit.

"Harry."

All Eggsy said was his name, but Harry instinctively knew what his mate was asking. "He won't leave these grounds alive. Not for murdering a packmate and trying to kill three others."

Perhaps Chester King heard him, or was simply thinking the same thing as Harry and others. That unless he could convince them of his innocence-which was not likely-he was dead. Losing the position of Alpha was the least of his worries now.

"My father was the Alpha of this pack for decades. You all agreed to that when he stood here all those years ago. Whatever he ordered me to do over the decades, he wasn't just my father; he was MY Alpha too. I was his to command, just like the rest of you. If HE did what Amelia Unwin is accusing him of, he is not alive to pay for it. And I should not have to pay because he's dead and I'm not. I did not kill her son, or try to kill the others that day. I don't know what my father did or didn't do-nor do any of you. Amelia is mentally ill; you can all see that. Where is her proof?"

Mentally, Harry rolled his eyes while thinking to himself that he should have seen that coming. No, Chester King was too deluded to realize he wasn't leaving here alive. That there were quite a few wolves watching him now, all chomping at the bit to be the one to rip out the bastard's throat.

"You want proof of the blood on your hands, Brother? Are you sure about that?"

The certainty in her voice...

Everything about Amelia's body language said that she didn't have a doubt she could provide proof of her brother and father's culpability in Lee's death. But how? What proof could she possibly offer, especially after all these years?

More importantly...would her brother call her bluff?

Letting go of Eggsy Harry moved back to stand at his mate's side. Eggsy made a sound of displeasure over that; likely in part because Eggsy could have acted as a shield while Harry was behind him. But that was why Harry had to move.

Things were about to get worse. A lot worse. He could feel it.

There was a notable wariness in Chester King's voice, as he told his sister to go ahead. Prove it.

"Fine, then." Another hideous facsimile of a smile curved her lips as Amelia turned her attention to William. "Make him confess."

William blinked in confusion, brows knitting together. "Excuse me?"

"You were demonstrating, just before I interrupted, that you're a true Alpha. You were born one; no one will ever have to make you one. Your dominance surpasses everyone here. Most certainly it far surpasses my pathetic, power-hungry brother who's always known, deep down, that he wasn't worthy of the title of Alpha. So, use that dominance, Nephew. Use it on him to make him tell us the truth. If you 'truly' ever cared for Lee, this pack, the way a TRUE Alpha does...that shouldn't be a problem."

Fuck.

William could do that, if the legends about true Alphas were to be believed.

A packmate could lie to a true Alpha of course, but his or her body would betray them. Faced with a true Alpha's dominance, the need to obey them would be consuming and the fight not to give in obvious. And Chester King would have no reason to fight against William's questioning, if he knew he could answer honestly.

Which meant the new question was one, were the legends true, and two, would William do that?

"That would be pointless." Taron stated before William could do more than jerk in surprise. "Even if the old stories are true, that doesn't mean that all true Alphas can do it. Or that William even is one. Strong dominants have always existed; that doesn't make them some super wolf with mystical abilities."

"I don't recall asking for your-"

Taron cut Amelia off. "Especially since you aren't asking because you really believe he can or would do what you're asking of him. You hate William. You want him dead even more than your brother. You're only asking him to do this to hurt both of them. Even though William is blameless in this."

"Blameless." Amelia repeated slowly, as if tasting the word and finding it wretchedly bitter.

Addison spoke up then, cutting off whatever Taron had opened his mouth to say. "He didn't ask to be born. He didn't ask to be a King. Like your Lee, he didn't ask to suffer because of your twice damned family. Anyone here with a fucking working brain knows your brother shouldn't be Alpha. Proof or no proof."

Growls and nods from the crowd indicated that the majority of the pack agreed with that.

Addison and Taron, meanwhile, were both being given a lot of weird looks by the rest of the pack. The Egertons defending a King was not something often heard. Many of the wolves present couldn't recall it ever happening before, in fact. It was all the more striking that they were doing it now, when they'd just been given new reasons to hate them.

Taron was giving his younger brother looks that said he was just as surprised his brother was backing him up on this.

William drew everyone's attention back to him as he kept his eyes firmly on his aunt while speaking quietly to his father, who stood a step or so farther back and to his left. Shielded by his son for the moment.

"Father. Say you renounce your claim to the position of Alpha. Give them that and maybe you live, if we make restitution and you leave the pack."

"No."

"What?"

"I have waited decades for this." Cold fury in his voice, Chester King snarled his refusal to yield. "I will not step aside or run away with my tail between my legs! I've done nothing but serve the best interests of this pack ALL my life and I have earned the title of Alpha!"

Many voices rang out, all stating that they would never call him Alpha again.

"You belong to me! I am your Alpha! How dare you take that whore's word over mine! She has no proof, and is only angry because she saw her mongrel bastard of a son as her ticket back into power. She'd have had him challenge me! That's all he ever was to her. A game piece!"

"Like we're all to you?" Eggsy called out, meeting his grand uncle's fury with his own. "You ain't half the man or wolf my dad was. Don't ya dare call im names, ya fucking bastard!"

"Be quiet." Chester hissed at Eggsy, his hatred of him written all over his face. "If Amelia had been at all sane she'd have put you in a sack and drowned you after birth. You and that bitch who spawned you."

Not looking at all disturbed at the idea of her infant grandson being drowned after birth, Amelia just smiled grotesquely in William's direction. "Looks like your father dearest isn't going to cooperate, Little William. What are you going to do now?"

"Kill her, William!"

More than anything else, William's next action drove home, without a doubt in anyone's mind, that he was not okay. Was so deeply hurt and damaged on a fundamental level by what had been revealed tonight that even his most basic training and common sense had left him. He was so focused on what his father had just said, on facing and having to live with the truth of what had happened in the past, that William King, Kingsman and true Alpha, turned his back on his enemy. On someone he knew wanted to shred him to pieces with her teeth and claws as he whirled around to stare at his father in shock.

Amelia King had probably had more planned, more wounds to open and poison to spread with her venomous words, but she was a King. She knew better than to waste this opportunity. This chance when all William's focus was on her brother and not her.

Her chance to kill her brother's son. A son for a son. The end of the King line.

In one smooth motion Amelia stuck a hand into what everyone had thought was another rip in her dress, but was actually a seam deliberately opened up to give her easy access to the small, antique pistol she'd strapped to her thigh. A gun designed by the Catholic Church to hunt and kill their kind long ago.

Pulling it out, Amelia King had time to get off four shots before dying.

At the same moment, everyone closest to Harry moved in the time between the draw and the last shot fired.

Harry found his legs being swept out from under him, hitting the ground on his back with a thud while his mind tried to process the shock. Shock because it was Eggsy who'd done it, and was now crouching over Harry protectively, preventing him from getting up and ready to throw himself over Harry's body in the unlikely event a shot was aimed in his direction.

Chester King, who had angled himself so that he could see both his son and his sister, responded to the threat to his son with a howl of rage and ran at his sister, clipping William's shoulder a little in the process as Chester turned wolf and bound forward to sink his teeth into Amelia.

Addison squashed Harry's two adult godchildren together in his arms and puffed up his body to make his back a human shield for them. The last bullet, which would have struck Ian in the chest, hit the older wolf's back instead.

It hit about the same moment Merlin and Rachel reached their children to protect them while screams and shouts filled the air.

The fourth and final bullet that would have hit Ian was fired accidentally while Chester mauled his sister and she shoved her free, clawed hand into her brother's stomach to gut him.

And Taron...Taron who was known throughout their kind's world for his exceptional speed, especially when it came to short distances. Taron moved so fast that afterwards everyone would agree that they hadn't even seen him move at all. One heartbeat he'd been standing with his family, the next he'd crossed the twenty or so feet needed to throw himself on top of William, who'd just whirled around a second too late. The maternal dominant wrapped his legs around the taller man's hips while one hand pulled William's head down and the other grabbed William's shoulder for support.

All of William's vitals protected by Taron's own body.

Taron made it just in time for the first two shots to hit his back and then upper arm instead of William, the third bullet-fired as Chester King leapt to take Amelia down-went higher, right by Taron's head. Blood flew with that one as Taron jerked and then went limp in William's arms.

A heartbeat later no one really heard Amelia's death gargles as she choked on her own blood or her brother's pained, dying whines for aid.

No, the sound that reverberated and echoed in the ears of all the wolves present was the anguished howl of a man who'd just had his soul ripped from his chest. Of a wolf losing his mate.

)

All eyes went to William as he dropped to his knees, Taron clutched in his arms. William looked down at Taron's crumpled form and then over in the direction of Rachel and her family, his fear and agony written all over his face. A face that visibly struggled for a moment, betraying the fact that to his mind William didn't have the right to ask her for help given what his family had tried and almost succeeded in doing to hers. But he found the words, just Rachel's name and 'please'.

Having already seen for herself that her children were fine and her husband had them Rachel turned and ran to them before William's lips had shaped the last syllable.

"He'll be fine." Addison called out as he left the McNabs to follow after her at a casual stroll, like it was every day that Taron got shot in his vicinity. "We're all wearing Kevlar vests, and the bullet only grazed his head. He's just more highly susceptible to those fucking bullets than most."

Despite what the Church might think, all the holy water and blessings they placed on these particular bullets weren't why these 'special' holy weapons could be highly effective against werewolves. No, the problem lay in the composition of the bullets. Specifically, one of the metals used in them. Tungsten, when it entered their bloodstream, often caused the afflicted werewolf's body to react the way humans did to sudden and extreme blood loss. And noticeably slowed down their ability to heal to regular human levels.

When hit by one, aside from the initial damage a bullet did, a werewolf experienced extreme disorientation, confusion, problems breathing, and sometimes lost consciousness regardless of where they'd been hit. Ergo injuries from these bullets made it a lot easier to finish off a werewolf with a shot to the head or decapitation. Hence why the Church was, these days, convinced they'd killed them all off decades ago.

The world's werewolf population preferred to keep it that way and left the Church to their delusions. They'd also done their best to collect and destroy all the guns and bullets that had been specially designed to kill their kind, just in case the clergy got ideas.

No one was surprised that the Kings had decided to hold on to at least one for personal use.

"He's breathing, William." Rachel told William softly, her tone that of a mother soothing a child as William stared at her in incomprehension for a heartbeat before looking back down at Taron. "His pulse is fast, but not dangerously so. I'll need to get the bullet out of his arm, it missed the vest, but it's not life threatening."

"Thank Christ." Eggsy breathed out.

"Rachel."

The voice that called out to her was hesitant, William's mother kneeling beside her husband, his hand in hers. They'd all completely forgotten about her, and she'd said nothing since this whole thing had started. Only now, as her husband lay dying, was she willing to raise her voice. Because he was still breathing, not yet dead. Rachel was a miracle worker; they all knew that. Had seen it time and time again.

Rachel met the older woman's pleading gaze to make it clear that she'd heard her, then slowly shook her head back and forth twice before stating that they needed to get Taron to her clinic. The sooner they got the bullet out the quicker he'd recover from the shock of it poisoning his system.

Demonstrating his unlimited well of human kindness and compassion Addison lightly kicked William in the thigh as he asked if he needed to carry the idiot for him.

"Oi!" Eggsy called over to him while in the process of sheepishly offering Harry a hand up, forgetting to look apologetic as he turned his head to properly glare at Addison.

William was equally unimpressed and joined Eggsy in his glaring, even growling at the older man as he got shakily to his feet, Taron cradled bridal style in his arms.

Rolling his eyes as dramatically as possible Addison shrugged and then left his brother to the other two, walking the short distance over to where the lifeless corpse of what had once been Amelia King lay spread out on the grass, her neck and shoulder ripped to bloody shreds.

Still, it was always a good idea to double check with a werewolf, and Addison did so with dispassionate thoroughness before announcing outloud and with a pleased smirk that the bitch was definitely dead.

That done Addison turned his attention to where the former head of the King family lay, now no longer breathing while his wife wept silently beside him. Shuffling over Addison crouched down, ignoring her, and made damn sure that this King was dead as well.

No one watching doubted that had he still been breathing when Addison reached him the deadly member of Kingsman would have ended that with brutal efficiency. Because for all that Addison's actions and words said that he wasn't upset in the slightest, the aura he was giving off now said otherwise. Big time.

Now on his feet again Harry joined Eggsy in hurrying over to William and Taron, confident that if King or his sister suddenly reanimated as zombies Addison would take care of them with pleasure.

Nobody, but nobody, fucked with someone Addison loved or considered his to protect and lived long.

Even if the arsehole would sooner die than admit he loved or cared about them.