by Kyle, Celia
She wanted to laugh. Almost. Burger would shred them before becoming dinner. He was a fierce little feline.
But her belly churned, nerves rolling and rumbling in her stomach as she watched the clock tick toward eight. Her mates had retreated to their rooms to prepare, requiring solitude while they got ready for the fight to come. A fight to the death.
She’d been sad to see them go, stride off to seclusion, but had understood. Since their mating was incomplete, the guys wouldn’t be able to focus on the coming fight with her hanging around. They’d be too concerned with how they could finagle her into bed. And, being the Ruling Alphas, strongest of the wolves across the nation, their need to mate was more pressing than most.
But suddenly, Gabby’s words interrupted Scarlet’s thoughts.
Scarlet froze for a moment and focused on her sister. “Wait. Challenge for mate? Can they do that?”
Gabby rolled her eyes. “Duh. Have you been listening?”
“Don’t ‘duh’ me, woman,” she snapped. Damn it, Scarlet should have paid better attention to all those rules thrown at her during the flight.
Gabby rolled her eyes. Again. “If the challengers are unmated, they can fight for simply rank, or rank and mate if they feel the female belongs to them. Garron and Quentin claim that you’re actually theirs, and you’re only after Keller and Madden because of their position.”
Rage, pure, hot, molten rage overtook Scarlet. “Those assholes.”
“We could kill them. That would be fun.” Whitney bounced over, faux smile in place, the expression not quite meeting her eyes.
“Bloodthirsty, much?” Scarlet looked her sister over, noting the fatigue that lined her face. She reached out and snagged her sister’s hand, tugging her close. “What’s up with you, babe?”
Whitney leaned her head against her shoulder and snuggled close. This was how it’d always been between them. Scarlet was their leader, their protector. Gabby got to be the loud mouthed, obnoxiously adorable brat, and the two of them protected emotional Whitney.
“I went back to the registration table to talk to them about my lack of Mark, and they told me to come back in the morning. The Wardens should arrive tomorrow and they’re who I need to talk to about this stuff. So, for now, I’m stuck in butt sniffing limbo.”
Scarlet squeezed her waist in a small hug. “Well, I’ve got an ‘in’ with the Ruling Alphas so the Warden guys won’t have a choice about helping you. We’ll figure it out. And, hey, at least the sniffers are hot, right? I mean, if they’re gonna get up close and personal, we should be happy they’re attractive.”
A low growl warned her that her mates had come upon them, but it was Keller who spoke. “Who’s attractive?”
The growl deepened.
Sighing, she turned around to face Madden and Keller. Without hesitation, she snapped her fingers in Madden’s direction, frown firmly in place. “Enough. You know I’m yours. I know I’m yours. The three of us are a big ball of yours.”
Keller’s laugh followed her words, and happiness danced in his eyes. The man didn’t laugh nearly enough. It sounded hoarse and rarely used.
Whitney’s giggle joined Keller, and Gabby’s snicker followed them. Poor Madden frowned, deep furrows between his eyes, and she strode toward him. Before he protested or pulled away, she wiped away the lines.
“Calm down. You need to save your grump for Garron and Quentin.” That got her a snarl, and she rolled her eyes. Without having to look, she reached out and tugged Keller close so she could wrap an arm around his waist.
“I expect you to both kick ass.” She shoved the idea that they’d fail aside, blinked away the threatening tears, and tipped her head back. She flashed him a forced, cheerful grin. “And fast, please. I’d rather not to have to wait for you two to heal before we get down and dirty.”
Keller’s expression turned wicked, and the rough texture of Madden’s five o’clock shadow scraped against her neck. A shiver of arousal snaked through her, and her mates breathed deep. She had no doubt they could scent the musk of her juices.
Ah, the joy of being mated to wolves.
The man she now recognized as the Captain of the Ruling Alphas’ guard cleared his throat and stepped into her line of sight. “Alphas, it’s time.”
Scarlet’s heart stuttered. The next few minutes would determine their fate. She had faith in her men; they hadn’t achieved their position through a democracy. They’d fought tooth and claw to rise above the rest. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be injured.
She grabbed Madden’s hand and squeezed, snaring his attention. “I know you want to gut them. I know.” His growl confirmed her statement. “But you need to fight smart, not strong. They’re bullies. Neither of them have any control. If they did, they wouldn’t have approached us like they did. You get them angry and let them make a mistake. Just don’t let them do that to you, you hear me?” She squeezed again. “I need you back, safe and whole, Madden.”
The large wolf took a deep breath and a look of calm swept across him as he exhaled. “Yes, mate.”
She turned to Keller, her less outwardly aggressive mate. “I know you don’t want to kill them, but this is to the death, Keller. They won’t settle for anything less, and you need to go into this knowing that four walk in and only two walk out. They want your position. They want me.”
He snarled, baring his elongated teeth. “Never.”
Scarlet jerked her head in a quick nod. “Good. I’d kiss you, but I need you hungry for them, not me.”
That got her the reaction she’d expected, both men chuckling as they turned to follow the Captain toward the center of the ballroom. The packs had to be paying a pretty penny to allow the desecration of carpet, but Scarlet wasn’t about to ask questions. Hell, for all she knew, the hotel was pack owned.
“Alphas.” The Captain bowed and brushed past them, on toward the center of the circle the watchers had formed. A wide space was left empty, bodies lining the area.
“We’ve gathered to witness a challenge between the Ruling Alphas and the Colson Alphas.” A murmur went through the crowd. “Alphas, step forward.”
Madden turned her toward him, hands gripping her shoulders, and he kissed her. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, sweeping into her in a grand stroke and she submitted to his assault. As quickly as it began, it ended, her mate placing her apart from him.
“Win for me.” She was panting, breathless.
“Always.” He strode toward the waiting Captain.
Then it was Keller’s turn, her mate drawing her forward and giving her a gentle kiss. He gifted her with a soft caress of his tongue against hers that left her equally panting when he pulled away.
“They’re going to underestimate you. They’re not going to be prepared for the ass-whipping you’re about to lay down. But you’re an Alpha, Keller. Show them.”
He nodded, brushed one last chaste kiss over her lips and then he was following Madden to the center of the ring.
Whitney wrapped an arm around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder. “They’ll be fine.”
Gabby twined her fingers with Scarlet’s. “They haven’t fought their way to the top for nothing. They’ll kick ass, and then they’ll boink you all night. It’s all good.”
Silence descended, both pairs of Alphas standing before the Captain. “This is a challenge to the death for position and mate. Each Alpha pair shall fight. One on two legs, the other on four.” A soft murmur went through the crowd, but the Captain ignored the sounds. “Alphas, please prepare. The challenge shall begin once the first wolf has completed his shift.”
With that, he stepped back, and the scariest moments of Scarlet’s life began.
* * *
Keller didn’t hesitate. He tore at his shirt, and ripped his slacks, cloth parting beneath his shifting claws. Fur pushed through his pores in a gentle wave. His bones reshaped and muscles shortened, body taking on the form of his beast. No pain assaulted him. No, it was pure pleasure at t
he wolf being released to defend their position, their mate.
He kept his gaze on the other shifting wolf, noting with satisfaction that it was the larger of the two mirroring him. Scarlet had been correct: the Colson Alphas were sloppy and quick to anger, and Keller would use that to his benefit. The other wolf might be larger and stronger, but Keller was faster. He’d dart in and out, scratch and claw the other beast until it lost control. Then he’d win.
Madden stood tense at his side, hands fisted and knuckles white with restrained rage. Keller felt the anger, the controlled fury bubbling beneath the skin and pumping through veins.
He prided himself on the swiftness of his change, and in less than five seconds he was on four feet. The other wolf, Garron, was still engaged in his shift, legs reshaping to his beast’s form. Tanned skin had given way to gray fur, and the man outweighed him by at least fifty pounds.
Now. Keller roared to his partner as he leapt across the space separating them.
Madden’s bellow echoed through his mind and rang through the room. From his periphery, he watched the massive man keep pace with him.
A beefy fist collided with Quentin, and that was the last sight of his two-legged partner that reached him. His world became narrowed to a view of fur and flesh.
Garron attacked quickly, a flash of fangs that snapped at him upon his approach. Keller was faster, ducking and retaliating with a bite of his own. His teeth tightened on the wolf’s foreleg and blood flowed over his tongue.
Keller the man was disgusted by the raw taste. Keller the wolf gloried in the strike and savored the other man’s honeyed, copper fluid.
First blood.
Except Garron reacted in kind, sinking his wicked teeth into his back and biting into his flesh, the wound much too close to Keller’s spine for comfort.
He released the other wolf, and it danced back only to dart forward once again. Keller jumped aside, digging his teeth into his opponent’s hindquarter as he passed. More blood. More of that goodness. His wolf salivated, aching to taste the interloper once again.
But Garron’s attack hadn’t failed completely. A throbbing pain erupted along his side, the ache pulsing with every beat of his heart. Wetness coated his ribs, and he knew his enemy had injured him.
But he couldn’t dwell on the wound. Not when Garron spun on him, rising to his hind legs. He countered, balancing and meeting the attack. The Colson Alpha snapped his teeth, fighting to bite Keller’s vulnerable throat, but only managing to gouge his muzzle.
Garron’s nails dug into his shoulders, sinking past fur and skin deep into him. More of his blood crept forth. Keller pushed back the blossoming hurt.
The enemy wouldn’t win, no matter how hard he tried.
Keller remained upright and dug his claws into the other wolf’s fur, searching for skin and flesh that lurked out of sight.
His competitor broke off from their clench, stumbling, but he didn’t let the wolf wander far. Keller pounced, mouth opening wide and then it was filled with the wolf’s protective fur. He fought to breathe, drawing in air past the blood that filled his nostrils. Fuck. Had the bastard broken his nose?
Increasing the pressure of his bite, he was rewarded with a rush Garron’s of blood filling his mouth. Applying further force gave him the crack of bone.
Garron pulled and yanked against his hold, snarling barks interspersed with whimpers. Keller had managed to slow the larger wolf, his attack breaking a leg.
He released and danced back, moving out of reach and he watched the other wolf limp back and forth. Garron’s gaze absorbed everything, and Keller did the same. His enemy’s hobble was easily noticeable. Blood flowed freely from the wound, and a bone poked through the skin. The other wolf’s muzzle bled sluggishly, but the hindquarter released more and more viscous fluid with each beat of his heart.
The enemy wolf was close to the end. Its chest heaved with every breath, expanding and contracting in an ever-increasing rhythm.
He distantly heard grunts and groans from Madden’s fight, the collision of flesh against flesh coming with regularity. But few of the sounds came from his partner.
Keller flashed his fangs, curling his upper lip until the gleaming lengths were visible.
A bellow of rage reached him, and he stretched his mind to Madden. Easy. Don’t fall into his trap, Madden.
He didn’t have time to say much more. Not when Garron rushed forward and pounced on him, shoving him until he lay beneath the larger wolf.
A shout reached him, the single word from Scarlet’s mouth working to bolster his strength. “No!”
Keller worked his back legs, clawing the vulnerable underbelly of his attacker while he used his forelegs to keep the man’s life-ending teeth from his neck. A mixture of his and Garron’s blood surrounded him. His enemy didn’t simply snapped at him with deadly teeth. No, claws scraped and shredded him as he lay supine on the ground.
Enough.
He gathered his strength, dug into the part of him he often suppressed, and let his true beast free. He shed the mantle of calm knowledge and peace to reveal a monster.
With a great heave, he shoved Garron from his prone body, rolling them until he stood over the larger wolf.
Part of him, the portion that always worked toward a diplomatic end to any conflict, detested what he was about to do. His other half reveled in the bloodshed. It rejoiced in securing their place at Scarlet’s side. They couldn’t care less about ruling the North American packs. But nothing would keep them from their mate. Nothing.
That single thought in mind, he lowered his head, opened his mouth wide and then tightened his jaws. He relished the resounding snap of bone as he killed the wolf beneath him.
Fresh, tasty blood flowed freely, and he only allowed the wolf to swallow one mouthful. It fought against his control, aching to finish its meal, but he wrestled the beast into submission. The encounter wasn’t about the hunt, but the kill. They’d search out dinner. Later. After they’d secured Scarlet as theirs.
He released the dead wolf and moved away from the body until he was able to sit and catch his breath. Wounds made themselves known, other cuts and bites he’d not noticed, now throbbed in time with his heart. They’d heal soon enough. For now, his attention remained riveted on Quentin and Madden.
Both men were covered in their fair share of blood, the battle made more difficult when fighting without the benefit of sharp teeth and claws.
Madden struck again and again, fists colliding with Quentin’s cheek, chin then stomach. It was a constantly shifting dance of pain, the two men hunting for the opportunity to end the fight. Permanently.
Quentin noticed his dead partner and darted away from Madden, heading straight for Keller. The man’s eyes had changed to a glowing yellow, showing the wolf was in charge of the human body.
“Nooo…” Quentin’s scream was barely recognizable.
The enemy wolf ran toward him, gaze on the dead body at his side. Keller danced away from the corpse, moving with growing stiffness, not wanting to be caught up in the man’s madness. It happened sometimes, one partner going insane when they lost half of their pair.
Only…only he’d thought the man was heading for the dead wolf, fighting to get to his deceased partner.
He was wrong.
Quentin shifted with each step, face reforming, fur bursting through skin and hands transforming into claws. Shifting broke the rules and technically ended the fight, but he doubted that’d mean much to the approaching madman.
Keller backed away, working to put distance between him and the looming man. Five feet… Then three… Then…
Madden caught the shifting Alpha mid-pounce, snatched the back of his shirt and yanked the wolf against his chest. In a lightning-fast move, his arms encircled Quentin’s neck.
Crack.
Another death complete.
Keller stared at his partner, his brother Alpha, and would have smiled in triumph if he hadn’t been in so much pain. Silence surrounded them, and he
heard nothing more than their breathing. Adrenaline slipped away, sliding from his blood and leaving him simply a battered, yet victorious, wolf.
Chapter Six
Scarlet sensed her mates’ need vibrating through her, strumming her body like the cords of a guitar, and she was drawn to answer their call.
Unfortunately, due to the dead assholes, she wasn’t able to give in. Not when her mates had to clean up and heal from their wounds.
Walking between them through the expansive hallways of the hotel, she kept to their sedate pace. Madden’s face was peppered with bruises, and one eye was swollen shut. His lower lip was puffed to twice its normal size with a split on the left side. He didn’t make a sound as they traveled, but he did clutch his ribs, a single arm wrapped tight around his chest.
Keller wasn’t faring much better. The wound near his hip still bled, albeit much slower than before, and the tear in his side worried her. His fur was matted, blood soaking his gray body. He favored his fore-leg, and the wolf half-hopped alongside her. His muzzle boasted scratches and scrapes, including a bone-deep furrow she imagined had been caused by Garron’s fang. More than anything, Scarlet was worried about his blood loss.
Bastard. She wanted to resurrect the dead wolf so she could kick his ass. True, they’d have to hold him down so she could get him good, but she wasn’t against breaking the rules.
Two guards led the way, the Captain being one of them, while three followed, including her personal gun-slinger and the Lieutenant. From what she could tell, they were being protected by the best of the Ruling Alpha’s soldiers.
Gah. Ruling Alphas. She still hadn't quite gotten over their position. She was a freaking administrative assistant and totally not “ruling anything” material. She’d been expecting a minor set of wolves. Guys that led a pack in Podunk and didn’t need a badass woman at their side.