It didn’t matter in the slightest.
Not when he could all but see a glittering trail of red light forming between the four of them, growing and pulsing as it bounced from one soul to another, linking them with the mating bond.
Raine had accepted them in their entirety.
Energy flooded him, a surge of adrenaline and power exploding through his veins and launching him back into action. Every swipe of his claws seemed to be faster and stronger, every snap of his jaws through flesh became easier.
A flash of white caught his eye, and he whirled in time to see Killian sneaking up behind Raine as she ended a wolf she’d hacked pieces out of. He barked a warning, but it was lost in the sheer volume of the battle. He leaped toward her, covering the distance in desperate bounds, but Killian reached her before Dubhlainn could.
Chapter Eighteen
Finn
Facing the wolf who had sired him was one of the most grueling things Finn had ever done. Physically, he was outmatched—Fergus was bigger, stronger, and had years of battle experience hidden beneath his pelt. Far more than Finn could hold claim to, anyway. But emotionally, the asshole knew just how to wind his son up, grind him down, and leave him feeling like the wrapper stuck to the shit in the bottom of the trash.
He'd gotten in a couple of sneaky face shots, satisfaction throbbing through his bloodied knuckles, but Fergus knew he had nothing to worry about. Psychological torment often wore a body down faster than physical torture, and Finn was flagging. Just the sight of Fergus standing in the yard like a lord surveying his land had drained Finn of everything but memories as Fergus’s lackeys dragged him outside, along with Quinn and Raine.
They’d been inside the house before they realized the den had been breached. No time to hide Raine, no time to defend. Just an invasion and a fast trip to hell.
“Got a spine now, do you, lad? ‘Bout time you bucked your ideas up and acted like the son of an Alpha.” Fergus swiped at the blood dripping from his nose and grinned. “Might be worth keeping you alive if you prove you can fight.”
“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
“Not even to save your life? To save the pitiful existence of the bitch you obviously care for? I won’t kill her, she’s too valuable, but I can make her living years dark and depraved. Think she’d like to be knotted every day by my soldiers, Finn? All those long days between one estrus cycle and the next? I have a lot of loyal wolves deserving a reward; that pretty little redhead would make one damn good incentive, wouldn’t she?”
He wasn’t an Alpha. His control wasn’t astounding and his wolf...well, his wolf didn’t take kindly to their mate being so casually threatened. He was aware of the blood being shed around him; the smell of it saturated the air and whipped his beast into a frenzy. Whimpers and yelps pushed the wolf to the forefront of Finn’s existence, until all he wanted was his sire’s throat gaping open.
“She will never be yours. She’d decimate your ranks in an hour.”
“She’ll breed me good pups then, won’t she? Better than the useless whelps I have now.” Fergus smirked and opened his arms wide. “Come on, Finn. You want to kill me, I can see it in your eyes. Take your best shot, lad, see if you have it in you to save your life and hers.”
A lifetime of non-violence weighed heavily against the urge to destroy the man in front of him. Finn squared his shoulders and set aside his true nature, the healer, in favor of the wolf. Gathering the last dredges of energy close to him, he prepared to die for his mate.
Something plunged into his chest, swift and true, rocking him back on his heels as he sucked in a hard breath and closed his eyes against the shock of it. Love filled him, pulsed inside him from hair follicles to fingertips and feet. Power enveloped him in a deluge, making his head light with the sheer overload of sensation.
When he opened his eyes again and met Fergus’s gaze, he was amused to see his Alpha sire take a rapid and clumsy step back. Finn flexed his hands, fisted them, and did something he never dreamed he’d be able to do given the opportunity.
He sprang, swinging for Fergus as he laughed at the fear in the Alpha’s amber eyes. He landed a blow hard enough to clack Fergus’s teeth together, another to the muscled belly, then let years of pent-up rage and frustration free as the older wolf recovered from his shock and came back at Finn with teeth bared in a wild grimace.
Pain meant nothing. Bones cracked and muscles bloomed with dark bruises, but they grappled each other with care or thought, each intent on eradicating each other’s existence. Blood splattered and gushed, sweat ran down toned skin, making it harder to land solid blows as fists skimmed off slick flesh.
Images of Raine on her knees, bound and left like a sacrifice to please an army of wolves, fueled Finn’s rage into an inferno. He took a hit to the face, came close to a fist in the windpipe, and lashed out with his foot, connecting hard with Fergus’s knee and sending the bastard down.
Breathing labored, Finn stared at the man who had sired him, taunted him, made a joke of him at every turn in his life. Without any intention of mercy, he let the wolf take form and leaned down for the killing bite.
A wrecking ball took him out from the side, sent them both tumbling over bloodied ground and dismembered corpses. Snarling at the loss of the kill, Finn leaped to his feet and faced the blond wolf stumbling on unsteady legs—the tackle appeared to have broken its left foreleg.
One kill, two kills, what’s the difference? the wolf wanted to know, licking its lips in anticipation. Either they die, or we do. If we die, there will be one less mate to protect the beloved female.
Finn charged, lowering his head and aiming for the other wolf’s broad chest. He ducked snapping teeth and rammed headlong between the front legs, using his head and neck as leverage under the wolf’s chest and sending it head over heels backwards. That foreleg crunched nastily, and part of him had an insane urge to shift back, see what could be done to aid the downed wolf.
Instead he pounced as the wolf struggled to right itself, clamping his jaws down on the broken bone and ragging it like a terrier with a rat. The wolf’s screams were terrible, pure animal, but Finn only heard future Raine’s screams, her pleas for mercy as Fergus’s pack ravaged her for entertainment.
She would never be placed in that position, he vowed vehemently.
Too mired in agony, the blond wolf did nothing to defend itself when Finn bent and ripped its throat clean away in a gruesome shower of blood. Gurgling wheezes, fading whimpers were the last testament of the dying wolf.
High on the kill, Finn whirled to finish Fergus off, but the fucking coward was gone. Growling, determined to track the bastard to wherever he’d gone, Finn slunk through the fighting, joining in where was necessary, and hunting the Alpha where he could.
Fergus would die that night, one way or another.
*
Quinn
Apparently, the Galway pack was under the impression he was the biggest threat on the battlefield. Quinn chuckled to himself as he shrugged the wolf off his back and slashed at it with claws extended for maximum damage. He heard the yelp, felt his claws rip through flesh.
There were bodies scattered over the yard like discarded mannequins. Shifters reverted to their human forms when they died, and from what he could glimpse, the enemy was more than half conquered.
Finn was on a mission, it seemed, his wolf on a rampage like no other. He was backed into a corner, but his baby brother showed no fear against the three wolves who thought he was an easy target—the wolf almost appeared jubilant at the opportunity to cleave limbs from bodies and rip howling yelps from his opponents.
Dubhlainn was fighting valiantly to reach Raine—beautiful, goddess-like Raine—as she chopped an axe unerringly into the foreleg of a blood-splattered white wolf, but two brown wolves had Dubh’s hindlegs in their jaws while a gray-pelted beast darted in and out, trying to savage the Alpha where it could.
Quinn circled in place, giving the half-dozen wolves surroundi
ng him the evil eye. They could take him down as one unit, he knew, but none of them seemed inclined to turn the slaughter into a team exercise. They were coming at him one at a time and being picked off the same way.
Come on, you assholes. Give me some playtime here.
Amused, Quinn feigned a lunge toward the nearest mutt and chuffed when it scrambled back with its ears pinned to its head. Young wolves, he realized, more than likely virgins to fighting to the death. Blood was an appealing and inciteful scent designed to drive the beast inside into a bloodlust under the right circumstances, and he knew what it was to dream of being part of a huge battle where heroism and pack loyalty were inherent to victory.
Dreaming and living the reality were two completely different experiences.
Assessing the weakest links among the circle around him, Quinn picked out a smaller wolf, probably not much younger than Finn, and made it his example. He shot forward without warning, grabbing the sable-coated wolf by the scruff and hauling it squealing into the center.
He shook it hard, outweighing it in strength, size and willpower, until it went limp and submitted. But examples were there for a reason, and Quinn intended to use this one to the best advantage.
Closing his jaws around the slender neck of the young mutt, Quinn locked eyes on each and every wolf watching him with fear and horror in their eyes. Not one for theatrics or cruelty, he bit down viciously. He felt the muscles protecting the spine give in to the pressure of his teeth, heard and felt the crunch of vertebrae as the power of his jaws ended the sable wolf in seconds. A quick, painless death for one who should not have been present at such a battle.
Cocking his head in challenge, Quinn tossed the shifting body toward the others with a fast flick of his head. The corpse was human when it smacked into the ground and rolled to a stop.
There was no room for grief or regret in his heart for the boy with the slack features and empty eyes. He had been born into the pack, and with Fergus, when a wolf was born into the pack, it died within the pack.
Unless of course, the wolves were the sons of the Alpha sent out into the big wide world to hunt down breeding bitches for his sole use. Quinn’s fury amped up further at the thought of Raine being tied down and raped by his father. While he was no better at the beginning, there was love and respect present in the relationship now. A true mating bond if the thrum of power in his blood and the weird buzz in his head was any indication.
He stalked forward and sent the other wolves scattering into the woods. He hoped they ran fast and far—if Fergus or Killian caught them, they would suffer an ungodly death for cowardice and be labelled as traitors to the pack.
Scratch that, Quinn thought and let the wolf howl in delight at the sight of Raine throwing the decapitated albino head of Fergus’s right-hand man into the remains of the Alpha’s dwindling pack. Pale blue eyes rimmed with pink stared up at the night sky, unseeing, as it bumped and thumped over the rough terrain, stopping face-up in a rut.
They were left with a handful of wolves now, and roughly twenty bodies in various states of mutilation. Finn had taken care of his three mutts and was stalking towards Dubhlainn to help their brother rid himself of the brown wolves still yanking on his bloodied hindlegs.
Raine, the brave, stubborn woman, marched over to one of the wolves looking at her like she was the Holy Grail of buffet lunches, and cracked it over the head with the blunt edge of the axe. She hit it again for good measure when it stared at her dumbfounded, then stepped back when it simply toppled over and resumed human form.
Take that, fucking asshole. Come in here and ruin my life, will you?
Quinn grinned, the wolf’s muzzle mirroring the expression. Hey there, sweetheart. Having fun by any chance?
Raine paused in mid-stride, frowning as she looked around. Her eyes latched onto Dubhlainn and Finn, and the frown deepened. Axe raised, blood dripping from the edge, she turned slowly until she found him. Head tilted, she lifted an eyebrow in question.
You should go inside, sweetheart. This is no place for a pregnant mate.
She scowled and set her free hand on her belly protectively, wincing when her palm touched tender flesh. This is unexpected. Since when have we been able to think at each other? And less of the pregnant mate shit, Quinn—I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, you know.
Oh yes, he knew very well how capable she was. Distracted by a sandy-colored wolf sneaking up on Finn, Quinn leaped on it before it could touch his brother. It was dead before it knew what had happened, crumpling broken to the ground.
Quinn...
“Think you’re something special, don’t you? Should’ve drowned the lot of you as pups.” Fergus’s voice rang out through the yard and everything stopped. The few remaining wolves under his command slunk back to him, leaving Dubhlainn hobbling on brutally savaged hindlegs. “No matter how special you think you are, you’ll never have the one thing you covet so much.”
Quinn’s head whipped around on a snarl when Dubh’s hackles rose and Finn growled in warning. His heart seized when he saw Raine bucking against his sire’s iron-grip around her throat, his chest pressed to her back.
“Don’t even think about shifting back, boys. I don’t want to hear the words you think will persuade me to let this commodity go and walk away. I’m sick of playing games. The only one I need alive is Dubhlainn, and that’s just so I can keep the bitch breathing long enough to produce me an improved son and heir. After that, the pair of you can rot in hell. But you two...” Fergus curled his lip in disgust at Finn and Quinn. “You two, I don’t need at all. Trouble is all you are.”
Damn straight. Raine’s thought hit Quinn like a hammer. My trouble.
Don’t do anything stupid, Raine. We can deal with him. Just hang tight.
He heard her snort from twenty feet away.
“Something funny, lass?” Fergus snapped, his attention dropping down to her and away from his sons. “Want to watch your guardians die?”
“What’s funny is you think you’re the one in control here,” she retorted, her fingers flexing on the wooden shaft in her hand. “A true Alpha doesn’t need to bully and threaten to get his way. Only insecure tyrants use those methods because they know they don’t have the respect or the loyalty of their pack.” Her teeth gritted together as Fergus’s fingers turned white, his choking grip bruising her delicate skin.
Raine, stop it. Let us handle this.
Dubhlainn chimed in a second later, his voice faint but growing stronger as the connection between them solidified. He will kill you, Raine, if you don’t shut up. You don’t know him.
I’d rather die here and now, knowing I’m loved by the three men in front of me, than in a few years when I’m broken and bred half to death, with only the barest memories of you to keep me sane.
Raine’s eyes fluttered closed as she wheezed in a breath, then popped open a moment later, the gray roiling like storm clouds. There was an unearthly storm building inside her and Quinn wondered if Fergus knew he held potential death in his arms.
Her voice continued in a soft croak, her eyes locked on Dubhlainn’s. “A true Alpha rules with kindness and compassion. Punishment is delivered when it is deserved, and he only makes threats when he intends to follow through. His pack follow him without hesitation to the ends of the earth because they trust him to see them through the shit and into the light. They trust him to ensure they survive.”
Fergus was almost purple in his rage. It had been a long time since Quinn had seen his sire in such a state, veins bulging from his forehead and neck, his ears and nose almost throbbing to the point of exploding with violent color. He shoved Raine forward, attempting to slam her down onto her knees.
She swung her arm back and down as she fell, jamming the axe into Fergus’s bare leg. Twisting as she landed, she yanked the blade free and rolled, coming up onto her feet in a fluid move as she coughed and wheezed. Her grin was feral as Fergus shouted in pain, and she backhanded him swiftly, using the flat side of
the axe head to shatter his cheekbone and drop him onto his knees instead.
Keening, he bared his teeth and surged up at her, hands curling into claws as the shift began. Raine bared her own in response, hauling back with her free hand and smashing the heel of her hand into his nose. “I am not a breeding bitch, asshole. I am mated to three wolves and each one of them is more man, more wolf, than you could ever hope to be.” She smacked him again with the axe, bringing it down on top of the wolfish skull, and reverted the changes as his consciousness wavered. “Only a fucking coward changes into his wolf when he’s being bested by a bitch.”
Quinn chuckled, the sound escaping the wolf as a chuff. Yeah, their Raine was a keeper, all right. He felt Dubhlainn’s anxiousness begin to wane as he realized their little female had things under control, but the Alpha still remained on alert in case he needed to leap—limp—to her rescue.
Just a reminder, guys, don’t change into the wolf in the middle of an argument with her, Finn advised as he tried to support Dubh’s weight and take some of the strain off their brother’s damaged hind end. Especially when she has an axe in her possession.
I don’t need an axe to put you in your place, wolf. Raine circled Fergus slowly, tapping the weapon against her slim, naked thigh and leaving bloody smears on her creamy skin. “You came here with the intent to disrupt my life, kill my mates, and rape me. You might be an Alpha in Ireland, but here? You’re nothing. You’re on another Alpha’s territory and you disrespected that Alpha. You started a fight and you lost. As far as I can see, your life is forfeit. Seeing as I’m highly offended by everything you’ve done here tonight, I’m taking it upon myself to dole out the punishment.”
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