Last Wolf Standing

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “For a Lycan,” the Runner explained, “eating human flesh is almost the ultimate high. It jacks you up like pure adrenaline.”

  “Then he’ll be even harder to defeat,” she gasped, panting as she began to panic. “You said it was almost the ultimate high, Cian. Wh-what’s better?”

  “Bond blood,” Jeremy muttered grimly, glaring at his partner.

  “Bond blood?” she repeated, grabbing on to Mason’s arm with a biting grip. “If that’s all you need to make yourself stronger, then do it, Mason. My God, you have to do it!”

  He shook his head, cupping her face in his hands, catching at one glistening tear with his thumb as it slipped from the corner of her eye. “I won’t do this to you, not after what you’ve been through tonight. I won’t use you, Torrance.”

  “Damn it, don’t do this,” she cried, gripping his wrists, her lips trembling as her voice cracked. “You have to do it, Mason! I don’t want to lose you. Please.”

  “I can’t,” he growled, the irony of the situation not lost on him. He’d been so sure that she would refuse his bite out of fear if the moment ever came where he found the courage to ask her, and now that he’d finally stopped being such a blind jackass and realized he was head over heels, crazy in love with her—now that she was standing before him, proud and courageous, willing to accept the most primal act of his beast—he couldn’t. After what she’d been through tonight, seeing a young girl consumed by Simmons, there was no way Mason was going to make her stand there and take his fangs in her throat. No way was he going to risk binding her to him, then leaving her to follow him into death if he couldn’t defeat the bastard.

  He had everything he wanted standing before him, and he couldn’t take it.

  Because he loved her.

  “I know you don’t love me,” she whispered, her heartbreaking words husky with pain as she stared at his throat, “but don’t do this, Mason. Don’t let him kill you. Please. I’ll release you afterward, I swear it. We’ll find some way to have it reversed, canceled, anything. Just don’t…don’t let him kill you. I can’t watch that, Mason. I can’t live through that.”

  “Torrance, baby, look at me.” She lifted tear-drenched eyes the color of the forest in the height of spring, and his heart rolled over, filling him with so much love, he couldn’t hold it all inside. “I love you,” he said on a harsh breath of air, grinning at the vision of her eyes going completely round, her mouth opening into a perfect O of surprise.

  “Wh-what?” she gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks like tiny rivers, wetting his hands as they cradled her face.

  “I love you,” he said fervently. “Love you so much that I don’t even know how to explain it. All I know is that you’re in my heart, my mind, the air that I breathe, every part of me. I love you.”

  “Then you’ll do it? You’ll make the bond with me?”

  He shook his head, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to the corner of her eye. “I won’t do it, sweetheart. Not like this. Not after what you’ve been through, not—”

  “Who cares what I’ve been through?” she cried, gripping handfuls of his shirt in her hands. “I’m alive, Mason. But if you die—”

  “If I died, you’d die, too,” he growled, pressing a hot, hungry kiss against her trembling mouth. “And there’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

  Mason released his hold on the woman he loved, and turned toward Simmons. As he walked to the middle of the cave, the bloody remains of the girl became visible on the far side of the boulder where the Lycan remained sitting. The closer he moved toward the rogue, the thicker the scent of blood and sex grew, making him ill at the thought of what his mother and Torrance had witnessed. And yet, Torrance hadn’t faltered. If ever he were given proof that his little human was a warrior, it was now. She was all fire and strength and courage. A woman who would stand by his side as an equal, and help him meet any challenges that life threw at them.

  Cian moved to his side, placing a cigarette between his lips, then dug deep in his pocket for a lighter. “Robert,” he said around the slim roll of tobacco clasped within his white teeth, “it should be your honor to make the circle.”

  His father moved to stand before them, reaching down to dig his right hand into the moist earth, clutching a handful of soil. He stood, calling out the ancient ritual words of Challenge as he sprinkled the dirt upon the ground at four points—north, east, south and west. The points served as markers for the wide circle he then proceeded to draw in the ground with his hand in four connecting arcs. As he closed the circle, he completed the ritual with the words, “So the Challenge is raised. May justice be done when victory falls to the last wolf standing.”

  Waiting at the circle’s edge, Mason pulled off his shirt and dropped it to the ground. He shook his arms out at his sides, bouncing lightly on the soles of his boot-covered feet as he watched Simmons move to the opposite side, across from him. “Shall we go whole or half forms?” the rogue drawled, a hard, ruthless energy all but burning from his body, pulsing around him like a fiery glow.

  “Half,” he grunted, wondering how Torrance was going to react to his change—and half-terrified that she’d never want to come near him again if he survived.

  “I thought you might say that,” Simmons laughed, looking past him to wink at the women.

  His father placed a hand on his shoulder, giving an affectionate squeeze, his dark blue eyes full of pride and concern. “Any words of advice?” Mason asked roughly.

  “Yeah. Torrance may be scared of our world, but what woman in her right mind wouldn’t be? She’s also strong and fiery and protective as hell of you. If you’re in love with her, she deserves your faith.”

  “She’s my mate.”

  “Which takes care of nature. But sometimes a union comes along that truly sets the metaphysical world on its ass. I was lucky enough to find it with your mother. It’s time you completed the bond. Don’t blow your chance, son. Life’s too short.”

  He snorted, shaking his head at the old man’s audacity. “I promise you that if I make it out of this cave alive, sinking my teeth into her is going to be at the top of my list. But I’m not doing it now.”

  Those dark eyes narrowed with a hard truth. “You may not win otherwise, Mason.”

  “But if I do, I’ve got a helluva good thing to look forward to.”

  Cian snuffled a quiet chuckle at his side and then he felt her heat at his back, followed by the soft touch of her palm against his spine. Spinning around, Mason pulled her against him, kissing his way into her mouth.

  “I won’t risk you that way,” he growled against her lips, kissing her deeper…harder, before gently pushing her away. He sent a silent message to Jeremy, who came forward and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, securing her at his side.

  “I love you, Torrance. Whatever happens, don’t forget that,” he said in a low rasp, and before she could respond, he turned back around, trusting his partner to watch over her. Taking a deep breath, Mason bowed his head, then stepped within the circle, ready for the battle to begin.

  Chapter 13

  With her heart in her throat, Torrance watched the man she loved and the murderer who’d made their lives a living hell face off against each other. Her breath caught, a hard, painful knot churning in her chest…because she knew what was coming.

  Oh, God…oh, God…oh, God.

  His mother grabbed her right hand, holding it tightly, his father flanking Olivia’s other side. Jeremy stood at her left, and Brody moved into place beside him, while Cian stood beside Robert. It was a show of support, for both her and Mason, as well as a sign of strength.

  If Mason died, they weren’t going to let Simmons have her without a fight.

  Oh, God, please. Please don’t let him die.

  Torrance forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, the sound whistling past her compressed lips as she watched both men throw back their heads, arms held out at their sides, feet braced firmly against the damp, fetid gro
und of the cave.

  And then it began.

  Like an earthquake riding under the earth’s crust, Mason’s wolf rolled beneath the surface of his skin. His muscles flexed, skin dark and damp with sweat, the air humid and sharp with animal musk—and it broke through. One second he was her lover, her mate, the man who possessed her heart—and then he wasn’t.

  He became something she didn’t know, didn’t recognize, foreign and unfamiliar. Thick, chestnut fur covered the upper half of his body, his hard musculature expanding, bulging with power and strength. Gnarled, deadly claws formed at the end of his powerful arms, while his head took on the hulking shape of a wolf. Only his lower half remained unchanged, the fur tapering, blending into golden skin at his waist.

  Ohmygod, she thought, knowing that she should be terrified, but she wasn’t. His massive head turned, glowing golden eyes finding her, holding her with the intensity of his gaze, and a smooth, melting warmth poured through her. She’d been wrong. This was no stranger. It was Mason, and he was beautiful, no matter what form he wore. She could see the traces of the man in those mesmerizing eyes, the worry and fear that she would reject this side of him. She wanted to run to him and hold him, tell him what a fool he was for thinking she could ever think of him as anything less than perfect. She tried to express her emotions with a warm, tender smile of love, her breath catching when the heat in that golden stare blazed, fiery and bright.

  Time held, silent and heavy, and then he slowly turned back toward Simmons, and in the next breath they exploded into action. They came together with a harsh, meaty sound, their bodies slamming into one another with preternatural power, snarling and gnashing at each other with white, gleaming fangs. Torrance pumped her fist in the air when Mason knocked Simmons onto his back, then winced as the black wolf countered with a roundhouse that whipped Mason’s head to the side, blood spurting from his nose.

  The two combatants moved apart, dancing on the balls of their feet the same way she’d seen boxers do, their movements light despite the muscular, bulky forms of their wolves.

  “Finish him quickly, Mase!” Jeremy called out, his deep voice guttural and raw.

  “Yeah,” Cian rasped around the cigarette wedged between his lips. “Kick his ugly ass and make it hurt. The pathetic bastard deserves the pain.”

  They went at each other again in a volley of slashes and kicks, the choreography of their movements oddly beautiful, at the same time it horrified her with its violence. Biting and sharp, their rage radiated through the moist, firelit cave like a noxious vapor that coated the skin. Torrance rubbed her chilled palms against her arms, as if she could rub off that thick, cloying film of hatred, but it was too strong.

  She’d never truly understood how powerful the vile emotion could be until now. And it made her admire Mason all the more, for the fact that he could face such evil and survive without the encounter blackening his soul.

  The fight escalated, and she watched as Mason landed a powerful side kick that made Simmons stumble, but the rogue countered with a slash of his claws that ripped across her lover’s chest, making him snarl with pain. “Come on, Mase,” she whispered beneath her breath, but Simmons kept coming. Harder. Faster. Like something impossible to take down.

  And her fear nearly choked her.

  * * *

  Simmons landed another powerful roundhouse, and Mason’s head spun, the edges of his vision going dark, and in that stark, vivid moment, he realized the rogue was almost too powerful to beat.

  Almost…but Mason had something the rogue didn’t have.

  Torrance.

  He had the promise of a future with the most amazing woman who wanted to share her life with him. Who would grow old with him; give him a family and a lifetime of love and laughter and smiles.

  Simmons’s claws slashed at his left shoulder, ripping through skin in a scalding flash of pain, the rush the rogue had gained from killing Marly making him too fast, too powerful. When another kick came at the right side of his head, he went down, his knees slamming into the ground with a bone-jarring impact. Sweat and blood streamed into his eyes, while relentless waves of pain rolled through him, threatening to take him under, sucking him down into that crushing state of darkness.

  “Get up, you ass,” he snarled at himself, and he could hear Simmons circling him, feel the suffocating blackness of the rogue’s hatred and rage lashing against him.

  He shook his head, struggling to gain his feet, when a sweet, perfect sound broke through the disorienting haze of pain that surrounded him. It seemed so far away, like someone shouting at him through water, and he couldn’t make out the words. Then it came at him again, louder this time, battering against his consciousness with a blinding urgency—and suddenly he heard Torrance calling out to him, the sound of her voice making his blood surge. “Kick him back, Mason! Damn it, don’t you dare die on me! You have to fight. You have to, because I love you, Mason! I love you!”

  “Torrance!” he hissed, blinking his eyes as he tried to find her through that blanketing fog of pain. He lifted his head, searching through the faces at the edge of the circle, and the moment their gazes connected—her eyes tear-drenched and so full of love—an intense, explosive energy surged through him, charging him up, revitalizing him, hitting him like an emotional shock to his system. Mason drew on it, on the love and life that he wanted to share with her, feeling the magnificence of it pour through his body.

  God, he’d been such a fool. All the time he’d wasted thinking he’d be sucking wind, incapacitated by fear if he gave in to this emotion, when he couldn’t have been more wrong. It wasn’t fear that filled him; it was love—its power more potent than anything he’d ever known. Loving her didn’t make him vulnerable. That’s what Dean had been trying to tell him. It made him strong, and hearing her say she loved him only intensified that power until it was rushing through his veins like a life-giving force, making him all but invincible.

  “I’ve been waiting for this day,” Simmons growled at his back, the garbled words dripping with satisfaction, and he thought, Finish it, Dillinger. Finish it now.

  Swiftly twisting to his feet, Mason turned and immediately went on the attack, his claws striking, ripping through fur and skin and muscle, and he watched as the rogue’s eyes went wide with fear. With a roaring battle cry, Mason kept advancing, swiping at Simmons’s head with one set of claws, slashing at his furred gut with the other, landing blow after blow, while the rogue tried to retreat. But Mason was too fast, too strong. With a husky, bellowing shout, he swung his right leg into a powerful roundhouse that slammed into the side of Simmons’s skull, breaking his upper jaw and sending him crashing to the floor of the cave.

  The Lycan lay facedown in the dirt, until Mason nudged him over onto his back with one booted foot.

  Simmons was still alive…but not for long. Blood bubbled on the rogue’s black lips, even as he motioned Mason closer. “You can’t stop it, Dillinger.” Mason stared down at him, and the rogue smiled, his teeth smeared with streaks of crimson. “You’re going to find more bodies. Like the redhead. Like the pretty little blondes your friends keep finding. It’s never going to end.”

  “It’ll end,” he grunted. “Just like this.”

  “Won’t matter.” The rogue laughed, sputtering as blood filled his mouth. “You’ll see. There’ll be…more killings. More rogues. There are so many pieces of this puzzle that you don’t even know about. But it was fun making that kill. I knew it would screw with your head, seeing all that pretty red hair.” Simmons’s mouth twisted, eyes red with the glittering burn of hate. “You can’t win.”

  “I already did,” Mason rasped, his chest heaving. “I’m the last wolf standing, you miserable son of a bitch, and you’re out of time.”

  “My death is only the beginning,” Simmons gasped. “You have no idea what you’re up against. When they make their move, you will die, Dillinger. All of you will.”

  “Not if they die first.” And bending down beside the body, he too
k Simmons’s head into his claws, and ended the Challenge once and for all.

  Mason had no so sooner turned away from Simmons’s body than he found Torrance launching herself into his arms. With a choking sob, she buried her nose in his thick fur, clutching at him, her body shaking with a fine tremor of relief, and something vibrant exploded in his chest, the searing emotion nearly bringing him to his knees.

  Though he was more wolf than man, she embraced him. Accepted him. And she’d told him that she loved him.

  Oh, God, please. Let it be true.

  Drawing a deep breath into his lungs, he allowed his wolf to pull back into his body, the change spilling over him like a warm, smooth wave of water, and he lifted her into his arms, crushing her against his chest. Catching Jeremy’s eye, he said, “I’ll buy you a whole case of Lagavulin if you’ll take Elliot home with you tonight.”

  His partner gave him a two-fingered salute and a smile. “Not a problem, man.”

  Nodding a goodbye toward his parents and friends, Mason walked out of the cave, heading into the autumn night, carrying his mate into the dense forest, driven by the need to get her home before he lost the tenuous hold on his control.

  “Mason,” she said quietly, her voice still husky from the tears she’d cried. “Are you sure you’re okay to carry me? I know you must be in pain.” Her head rested on his uninjured shoulder as she gently brushed her fingertips over the pounding of his heart, carefully avoiding the angry-looking wounds left from Simmons’s claws.

  He pressed a kiss to her temple, urging his legs to move faster. “I don’t feel a thing,” he told her, and it was true. Though his body should have been steeped in agony, he felt amazingly good, riding an emotional high that blocked out any discomfort from his injuries. And for the first time in years his heart was at peace. The wind blew through the trees, shaking the fall leaves from their branches until they fell gently to the ground, crunching beneath the soles of his boots as he navigated his way through the moonlit woods. After the evil they’d survived, it felt so good, so right, to be surrounded by the peaceful sounds of the forest, holding the woman he loved in his arms.