“Here’s how it is, Roscoe. Taryn is my mate, I’ve claimed her, and I will kill anyone who tries to take her from me. If you can accept that, you can live and you can leave here peacefully. If you can’t, well, you must want to die.”
“Then it looks like we battle it out.”
Taryn gaped. “You have got to be kidding me. Why would you bother? You can’t tell me you’re that obsessed with the idea of breaking my spirit until I’m some kind of slave.”
“That’s what he had planned?” Trey’s wolf leapt for control, wanting to gut him.
Roscoe shrugged. “What male wouldn’t want to be able to turn a dominant female like Taryn into a gorgeously submissive slave?”
“Well they would be the sane males,” said Taryn.
“Stand back, baby,” ordered Trey as he removed his t-shirt and then tackled the fly of his jeans. “You heard him. He wants to battle it out.”
She might have tried to calm the atmosphere if she hadn’t known from experience that when two dominant male wolves agreed to battle, it meant the situation was passed help. She had the strange urge to kiss Trey, but knew he didn’t need to look weak right now.
“To the death,” Trey said to Roscoe in a calm but icy tone. “We battle to the death.” Having heard what Roscoe intended for Taryn, Trey’s wolf wasn’t going to be happy until he’d tore out his throat. There was no way Trey would stop him from going feral.
Roscoe, now naked, nodded. “To the death.” Suddenly bones were popping and his body was altering and then, mere seconds later, he was a large sandy snarling wolf.
But Trey was larger, Taryn soon found out as she watched him shift into a seven foot long and approximately thirty-two inch high gorgeous silvery grey wolf. He looked just as intimidating and overawing in wolf form with his powerful build, his heavily muscled neck, and his robust limbs. His hackles were raised, his angry eyes were drilling into Roscoe, his ears were upright, and his lips were curled back, exposing fangs and gums.
The growl emitting from him sounded more like a boat motor.
Abruptly the sandy wolf sprang from his crouched position and rushed forward at the grey wolf, coming up short just to snap his teeth together. The grey wolf didn’t move a muscle, just stood looking large and fearsome, making a clear point that he was the more dominant animal in this situation. The sandy wolf reversed slowly only to once again rush forward aggressively and snap at the other.
Apparently the grey wolf had then decided that the other had had his chance to back down and he wasn’t going to stand still any longer.
Growling, he began circling the sandy wolf, who then copied the move so that they were circling each other. Maybe because he was stupid or maybe because he was just suicidal, the sandy wolf growled at Taryn. That was when her mate went feral.
The grey wolf lunged at the other wolf and they came together in a clash of claws and teeth. As shifters had superior speed and strength, it was like watching a recording in fast-forward motion. There was growling, there was body slamming, there was scratching, there was biting, and there were side swipes as each wolf fought to pin the other to the ground.
Taryn winced when the grey wolf bit down hard on the other’s hind leg, making him yelp loudly. The yelping faded to whimpering until the grey wolf yanked hard with his powerful jaws, snapping the sandy wolf’s leg. Damn, that had to hurt. When the injured wolf tried scooping himself off the floor, the other wolf slammed into him and knocked him onto his back. Then, in a typical wolf shifter killing move, the grey wolf slashed open his opponent’s midsection with his claws and simultaneously closed his jaws around his throat. With one sharp yank, he’d torn out his challenger’s throat.
As much as it had seemed like forever before it was over, it couldn’t have taken more than a minute for the feral wolf to have overpowered the sandy wolf. Overpowered was a mild word. Hell, the grey wolf had the other’s lifeless body by the throat, shaking it like a rag doll while growling loudly.
Several more minutes went by and the grey wolf continuing to attack the carcass, showing no signs of tiring or calming or any willingness to part with it. It was clear that he wasn’t coming out of his feral state any time soon.
“One of us is going to have to do something,” said Taryn.
Dante shrugged. “When he gets like this, you just have to leave him to tire himself out.”
Trick nodded. “At least he hasn’t charged at any of us this time.”
“But he’s injured, I need to heal him and I can’t while he’s in wolf form.” She was going to regret this, she knew she was. “Let me see if I can calm him down.”
“Whoa, now hang on a minute,” began Dante, palms out to ward her off. “Taryn, you can see the state he’s in, right? That’s not Trey. He’s buried way down deep, very much aware of what’s going on, but with no way of taking control for as long as his wolf is feral. If you go near him, he’ll see you as a threat and he’ll attack you just as he would anyone else.”
She rolled her eyes, implying he was being dramatic. In actuality, he was dead on. “He won’t hurt me. I know it’s not Trey, I know his wolf is in control, but his wolf considers me his mate just as Trey does.”
“She’s got a point,” said Trick, sighing. “She’s the person he’s least likely to hurt. He usually shows signs of calming by now.”
“His mate was threatened. That’s why he’s like this.” Marcus gestured at him, as anxious and fidgety as the others. Whenever an Alpha was unstable it leaked out into the pack link.
“I can’t just stand here.” When Dante again blocked her path she growled. “Move out of my way.”
“Taryn, come on, I’m Beta he’ll kill me if something happens to you.”
“And I’m temporarily Alpha female, which means I outrank you, but even if I wasn’t Alpha, I’d still expect you to move the hell out of my way.
So do it.”
“What if he hurts you? It’ll distress him to know he’s harmed his mate. Have you thought about that?”
She huffed impatiently. “He won’t hurt me.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Of course not. “Yes, I’m sure. Now move.”