Although I wasn’t here for the beginning of the fight, I get the impression that what came before was just a warm-up.
Maybe Jaxon blackmailed Kier against fighting too hard or maybe they had some plan set up, so Jaxon would let me go if Kier agreed to lose convincingly.
I don’t know what came before, I only know what I see now, and what I see is a fight so personal that it’s hard to know who hates the other more.
Kier must know Jaxon had me kidnapped, and Jaxon must suspect that I’ve hurt or even killed his packmates to get free. He’s going to want revenge against me, and against Kier for forcing him into a challenge he’s been avoiding.
The first time they crash into each other, it’s hard to know who’s the victor because both come away bloody. While Jaxon is snarling, Kier is silent as they pace a wide circle around each other, waiting for their next meeting.
I know Kier is a good fighter, that he can and will win this challenge, because I refuse to believe any future exists where he doesn’t. But even though I know this, it isn’t enough to stop my heart from pounding hard in my head. So loud it’s all I can hear.
No, that’s not all I hear.
I hear the almost silent steps of someone moving to attack me, seemingly forgetting that just because he’s quiet, doesn’t mean I can’t still scent his sneak attack.
I swing around to confront this new threat, just missing a paw aiming for my throat. Although he doesn’t land the blow where he intends, his claws rake my shoulder, and the sharp pain has me growling. Ignoring the scent of blood-my blood-in the air, I spring at him, using my smaller size and my speed to strike back, my claws finding a vulnerable spot on his side.
I don’t hesitate for a second, snarling at him and telling him in every single way that matters that I am not afraid.
Although I don’t wound him deeply, it’s enough to send him dancing back, wariness creeping into his eyes. I give him a hard stare, silently communicating my intent: I will fight to the death if I have to, and I will never stop.
I don’t know whether it’s the intensity of my stare that has him padding back the way he came, or if he never planned on sticking around, only intending to scare me.
Maybe he’s used to the women in this pack taking whatever bullshit Jaxon and the others dished out over the years, but whatever the reason, I’m relieved he goes.
When I turn back to the fight, I discover the true reason for the attack. Distraction. The first thing I notice is that Kier is sporting a fresh wound. This one is high on his shoulder, close to his neck.
I glare at Jaxon because it’s clear how he’s intending to play this. The dirty way.
I can’t afford to focus all my attention on the fight, because the next time someone attacks me, Kier is going to glance over at me and Jaxon’s next strike might prove fatal.
It seems Kier has the same idea, that or he’s a mind reader, because he suddenly stops circling and launches himself at Jaxon. I can tell Jaxon isn’t expecting it because he does nothing to stop Kier’s bulldozer attack from sending him crashing hard enough to the ground that I can’t help but wince.
Sensing movement behind me, I’m turning, preparing to meet this newest attack, when Kier strikes. He doesn’t give Jaxon time or room to get up, dodge, or launch a counterattack. Kier rips out his throat, and Jaxon slumps to the ground, his blood painting the earth red.
For perhaps the second time in maybe fifteen minutes, blood sprays over my dark brown fur. It’s not pleasant, but better Jaxon’s blood than Kier’s, I tell myself.
I dart a glance behind me, catching sight of the shifter who has stopped a few feet away, and who was no doubt on his way to launch himself at me.
His attention is no longer focused on me though, but on the fight, and with his mouth gaping open, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting such a sudden and brutal end to the fight as he just witnessed.
“Hallee?”
I turn at the sound of a familiar voice, discovering Kier shifted back to human and crouched a few feet away from me.
Although there’s some blood on his shoulder and his thigh, the injuries he suffered as a wolf have mostly healed during his shift. He’s still bleeding a little, but it’s nothing bad enough to be concerned about. To my disappointment, I notice the pink fluffy handcuff I’d gotten used to is no longer on his wrist.
Grinning at him, I rush over before spending the next several minutes nuzzling his throat and reassuring myself that he’s okay.
His hands stroke over me, careful around the now mostly healed claw wound on my shoulder. When he draws me closer, I sigh happily and lean against him.
“You’re okay,” he breathes. “You’re okay.”
All this time, he must’ve wondered what happened to me, just as I didn’t know what happened to him. I want to tell him that I’m okay, that everything is okay now. I want to tell him I love him, but I can’t tell him any of that in my wolf shape so I do the next best thing.
I lick his face.
He barks out a laugh and hauls me close for another hug.
“Alpha,” a low murmur interrupts our embrace.
Alpha? Why would he be calling for the alpha? Didn’t he just watch Kier tear out… oh.
That’s when it hits me: the consequence of Kier winning the challenge, and what it means, not just for him but for me, too.
I pull back a little so I can see his face. He studies me closely, as if curious what my reaction will be to this little nugget of information. I’m glad I’m a wolf because I have no idea what my expression would be like if I were human.
Even though I knew Kier would win this challenge, I didn’t spend nearly enough time thinking about what would come next. Sure, I was happy to taunt Jaxon about my being Luna, but that was me trying to piss him off. I didn’t actually mean it.
Kier becoming alpha means that’s what I am. If we mate, that is, and if we don’t, I don’t know what that makes me. It also means that from now on, Kier is going to find himself increasingly popular with female shifters who have ambitions of being the highest-ranked woman in the pack.
Throughout my silent introspection, Kier observes me, his amusement growing by the second as if he knows what I’m thinking and finds it hilarious. He runs his hand over my fur and briefly pulls my tail, making me snarl and causing his grin to widen. But then we’re interrupted, again.
“You’re no alpha of mine.”
Right, the pack are still there. How do I keep forgetting that?
Kier darts a glance behind me and shifts me back a little.
“Nor are you mine.”
“Nor mine.”
“You are not my alpha.”
At the growling voices, I turn and wish I hadn’t. Because it doesn’t look like any of these shifters want Kier to be alpha. The violence in their eyes, the mere fact that more than a few have stripped and are in the middle of shifting, tells me that a fight is brewing.
When I turn back to Kier, I discover he knows it too.
A large gray wolf with piercing blue eyes stands beside me, giving me the biggest hint that this fight is going to be bad. Bad enough that Kier has to shift for it.
It looks like it’s going to be with most if not all of the Stone pack. All I can do is hope there aren’t more still in their cabins who are getting ready to join the thirty or so in front of us.
The odds of us surviving this are so bad I tell myself I have to stop trying to work out odds because it only seems to make me anxious.
As if sensing my growing unease, Kier steps closer.
Completely ignoring the snarling and growling behind us, he lowers his head and nuzzles me. I hear him drawing my scent deep into his lungs, and I do the same, embracing what might be our last moment together.
I love you.