Chapter Eight
I stalked up the hill, careful not to crack any twigs or rustle any leaves too heavily. Our earlier scouting mission had done little more than make everyone uncomfortable and I was still unsure if Wesley had called his pack to him yet. There were no other cars at the bottom of the site, and no unfamiliar scents, so I was hopeful. Still, I wanted to be safe.
I was careful to check above this time. Everything was clear. I moved stealthily to the front of Wesley’s tent. He was laying down on a camp bed, feet propped up on a folded blanket, a Kerouac book in his hands.
I took a breath, preparing for what was about to happen. Then, mustering all the courage I had, I slid into the tent. Wesley did not move.
“I could smell you out there,” he said, turning a page in his book. “You think I wouldn’t recognize the scent of my own mate?”
“Wesley,” I said, “I am not your mate and you are going to war with the wrong people. There is nothing you can do that will make me go with you.”
Wesley peered at me over his book.
“You’re upset,” he said, “I can see that. I am sorry if I did something to upset you that made you leave. I want you to be my mate, and I am not going to throw away all the time we had together. There is no one I want more than I want you.”
I rolled my eyes, “That does not sound very enthusiastic coming from a man who won’t put down his book.”
“Is that what you want?” Wesley asked, putting his book on the edge of the cot and swinging his legs around so he was sitting. He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his thighs and folding his hands between his knees. “You want me to show you more enthusiasm? I can do that. I can be affectionate and treat you like a queen.”
“This isn’t the issue,” I said.
Wesley sighed, his eyes dangerously flat. I could sense the shift in vibrations in the air. He was angry.
“Then what is the issue, princess?” His words cut through the air. I willed myself not to feel them. “I don’t understand why you are acting this childish.”
“I can’t understand why you are threatening the lives of hundreds of people just to prove a point to me,” I replied, feeling anger flare up in my chest.
“I am proving,” Wesley said, “both that I love you and that you cannot steal from an alpha.”
“No one stole anything from you,” I said, “I am not something that can be stolen.”
Wesley leered at me, “You were mine, now you’re theirs. I didn’t consent so that sounds like stealing to me.”
I crossed my arms, trying not to push up my breasts too much but failing. There was just too damn much of them, fucking breasts.
“Did you ever love me or was it more of a power thing for you?”
Wesley looked hurt for a moment. “I still love you, baby, I just wish you wouldn’t act like this. We were so happy.”
I shook my head, “I was never that happy. There was always something missing. Now that I am back here with Hunter and Roman, I understand what it was.”
Wesley’s eyes narrowed. He clenched his fists. “And what would that be?”
“Love.”
He barked a laugh, hot and loud, full of anger. “Love fades, darling, it is about a compatible partnership. It is more important that there is mutual attraction and mutual need.”
“I don’t need you,” I said, trying not to sound too flippant, “so I guess this isn’t going to work out after all.”
Wesley stood. “I already called my pack, there will be a war. When we win, you can choose to come home and live by my side or you can choose to die by the side of your loser mates. That is a choice I will let you make.”
I moved in front of him, close, looking up into his eyes. This is how we stood last time, when he leaned forward and kissed me. I felt no desire for him this time, only burning hatred, strong and stirring in my belly.
“Then I challenge you to a fight for the mate.”
He grimaced, lip curling up into a fallacy of a smile.
“Is one of your meager boys outside? Will you so willingly throw their lives away?”
I shook my head, “I am going to fight you for myself.”
This time, Wesley’s laugh was for real.
“You? You can’t be serious.”
I nodded, glaring at him.
“Do you know the rules?”
I said, “The wolves in question must be directly related to the mate they are fighting for. Their opposition must be impossible to sort out by words. They must be the only ones present. It is a fight to the death unless one of the wolves surrenders. If an opponent surrenders, their enemy may decide to finish the battle anyway, you are at their mercy.”
“You will be at my mercy once again, princess,” said Wesley.
I shook my head, “No, you will be at mine. I am going to win.”
Wesley moved past me, teeth barred, body already preparing to shift. This was real, we would fight, and one of us would die. I watched him stalk out of the tent and I suppressed a shudder. I was unsure if I would really be able to kill him.
I followed Wesley out of the tent, my body wary, my wolf pushing to the front of my consciousness, ready to fight to the death. I could always count on the primal part of my body to be ready to enter survival mode at any moment.
Wesley stood in front of me. His shoes sat in a row off to the edge of the clearing, argyle socks folded neatly and placed on top with his matching dark, leather belt. I suppressed an eye roll, this guy had always been very particular about his clothes.
Wesley gave me a tight smile.
Spreading his arms open in a faux magnanimous gesture, Wesley said, “Please, take a moment to get ready. I want you in top fighting form.”
“I am ready,” I said, hoping my voice was not as shaky as I felt.
Wesley raised an eyebrow and glanced down at my clothes. Annoyance trumped frustration and I walked over to the tree line, removing my shoes and padding back to the clearing.
“Better,” Wesley said. God, I can’t believe I ever found that condescending tone sexy.
I flashed my best annoyed ex-girlfriend smile his way and said, “You know the rules right? We shift, we wait three seconds, then we can do anything we want.”
“Not anything,” said Wesley.
“Basically anything,” I said.
“I’m ready to go if you are,” said Wesley. “When you’ve spent this long as an alpha you are used to fighting for what is yours. But I am not going easy on your, princess.”
I didn’t bother to respond. I took a deep breath, then gave into the animal instinct inside. My body shifted, changing and pulling into the wolf form I knew so well. My limbs lengthened and shifted. My back first crouched, then lengthened and pulled up. My tail grew, my teeth sharpened, hair sprouted all over my body. My hands and feet turned from delicate extremities to powerful claws and strong running machines. My wolf was confident, I was confident. I would win.
When I stood powerful as my wolf on the ground, Wesley was still shifting. I waited until he had fully changed. He stood before me with fur tinted red and streaked with gray. His age was more noticeable as a wolf, clearly older than me. Scars from battles lost and won were prominent, there was a chunk missing from one ear. He had been in many fights. I did not consider what this meant for me and my outcome.
I promised the boys I would come back, I could not let them down. When Wesley had all four feet on the ground, we waited, staring at each other for a moment. When Wesley’s lip curled up I realized it was time to count down.
One…
Two…
Three…
Chapter Nine
Wesley was on me. Teeth gripped at my throat. He pushed me. Drew back. Pushed again. I floundered, unsure. Got back my footing. Bit. Kicked. Darted.
I slipped out of his grasp. Snapped at him. Found my way to the edge of the trees. Caught my breath. He hadn’t lied, Wesley was not holding anything back today. I watched him. Wesley stood s
till, conserving his energy, preparing for anther strike at any moment.
I looked around for anything I could use to my advantage. We were on a hill. If I could steer Wesley so he was downhill, I could try to push him off his feet. If I exposed his belly I might be able to… I shook my head, just slightly, digging my toes into the ground. No, I could not over think it.
Bored of waiting for me, or just antsy to have me under his control, Wesley lunged. I side-stepped. Barely. I tried to drown the yelp that escaped my lips as Wesley grazed my side.
A trickle of hot liquid ran down my leg. He bit me. I forced myself to look, to gauge the damage. I couldn’t be losing already. I could not die.
It was a clean cut, thin and not deep. Blood would scab soon. It might not even leave a scar. I looked up and Wesley held his head and tail high, triumphant, sun glistening off his pristine and beautiful coat. I would use this to my advantage.
With an exaggerated limp, I moved farther down the hill, stopping in front of a cluster of rocks. Run for me, I coaxed, come at me and try to knock me down. I lifted my leg, made it look like I could not hold any weight. Taunted him with my vulnerability.
Wesley charged. His fighting style was like his love-making. Initially impressive with its ferocity, but uncouth and without finesse. I let him get too close, where I could see his gnashing teeth and almost feel his breath on my nose. Then, I moved.
He crashed over the rocks, feet tripping, body rolling. He rolled twice before coming to a stop. Dazed look on his stupid face.
I rushed him, teeth digging into his side. I bit. I clawed. I growled, pulled, made it known that I was here for a reason. I was here to win.
He rolled, escaping. Our jaws met. We clashed. We clawed. He tried to push back up the hill. I held him back. I tasted blood.
There was a sharp pain in my side and I yelped. He growled, low in my ear, so I bit to the side. Teeth scratched the top of his muzzle. He screamed and pulled back. Blood dripped off in warm, red globs. My mouth tasted like iron.
Wesley’s eyes lost any remainder of kindness. They were dark, deep, full of pain and rage. The scratch across his jaw woke him up, made him realize I meant business. That I intended to kill him, to save my pack. I braced myself, if he was holding back, he would let me really have it now.
When we collided, I did not feel anything for a moment. Then my body slammed the ground. Ringing in my ears, jello bones, and blood in my mouth from where I bit my tongue. That is all I was for a few painful seconds. Then I felt teeth sink into the bottom of my neck.
I clawed and rolled, pushed, anything to get him off of me. The teeth dug in deeper. This was it. I would die here and my friends would die in a few short hours. But I would not give up without trying everything.
I rolled again, groaning as teeth tore into me, but I got out of his grip. He loomed over me, mouth opening to bite me again. I darted forward and bit hard around his front leg. My mouth filled with blood. He tried to jerk his leg back and howled. If I could not kill him, I would wound him. Make him an easy target. Tire him out.
He kicked me. I fell. I curled around my belly to protect myself. He sank his teeth back into me. Clawed and pushed, dug and ripped at me.
Wesley yelped. Suddenly his teeth were gone. I leaped to my feet, ignoring the pain. What the fuck was going on.
Wesley was between two wolves. A black wolf had his neck between his jaws. A golden gray wolf tried to pull him back, teeth nipping and shoulders pushing. Hunter and Roman.
Wesley pulled out of the grasp, turned to snap at Roman. Hunter snapped at his legs. Growled and pushed him away. When Wesley turned back, Roman growled and lunged. He was trapped. These men had trapped Wesley for me.
He moved to escaped. Hunter locked his jaw around Wesley’s neck. Wesley’s yelp echoed around the clearing. Roman moved to the front of his body, joining Hunter and clamping his jaw down on Wesley. They moved together, working seamlessly to pull down his body. Wesley struggled, legs flailing. Head thrashing. Body convulsing. But in no time at all, He was pinned to the ground.
My mates had delivered my victory to me.
I stalked closer, holding my body high. My tail curled up, signifying my alpha status. My neck was high, wholly exposed and without fear. I close in on him, barring my teeth, revealing my sharp canines. Sharp as knives, sharp as ice, sharp as glass. Wesley’s eyes rolled in fear, the whites moving around in his head, veins visible.
I wondered what it felt like to be this close to death.
He shifted then, a dirty tactic. His body moved and lengthened, fur turning to skin. Whimpers turning into ragged breaths. I signaled to Hunter and Roman to drop him. A human could not withstand the bite of a wolf, not even a shifter. There would be no time for him to shift back before I met his skin with my teeth.
I waited for him to speak to me. His breathing slowed. Dirt stuck to him, flaccid penis bobbed between his thighs. His age showed, skin hung loosely around his abdomen, not much but enough so I knew what he would look like when he was an old man.
“You,” he choked out, rubbing the teeth marks that clung to his neck. Pinpricks of blood started to appear. Like a strange pearl necklace, uncanny and out of place on a man’s neck.
“Cheated,” he finished. Voice strained. Word heavy.
I barred my teeth but remained in wolf form. I would speak to him through our mental link. He would not get the pleasure of seeing me naked.
“There was no cheating,” I said through our animal connection, the kind that binds all non-human creatures together. “The rules state nothing about a fight for the mate being one on one only.”
Hunter and Roman stayed quiet. Eyes wary, muscles pulled tight, they would watch him and be there to protect me. But they would not speak now. This was my battle to win.
“You are a cheater,” Wesley said, coughing and rubbing his sore muscles.
I growled but held my stance. He would not try to belittle this victory.
“The only official rules state that the battle begins one on one, we wait three seconds before we begin, and all who fight must have a connection to the female in question. After that, basically anything is legal.”
Wesley tried to push up into a sitting position. Roman’s low growl made him think better of it. Then, as though realizing that he was truly beaten, he looked at me with terror.
“So kill me,” he said. The tremor in his voice gave away his fear. I felt pity for him.
“Do you surrender?” I asked. Please, let him surrender.
Wesley did not say anything. The wind rustled the trees. I could feel a shallow vibration on the hill. His people were coming.
“Do you surrender?” I asked again, forceful, clenching my jaw to remind him of the consequence to not surrendering.
He was still. Then nodded. He was full of shame. My body relaxed.
“Then I will spare you,” I said, “but this war was won today. By me. Take your people and never come back to this place. Moon Lake is not, and never will be, your home.”
Hunter and Roman stepped back, allowing Wesley to stand. He shook, breathing hard, scrapes and bruises already appearing over his too pale body. He was old. He was nothing. Only my past, someone who would slowly fade in my memory. Into obscurity.
He moved to get his things, but I slipped in front of him. Growling.
“Take only what you need to get back home. Your car. Your keys. Your clothes. But do not linger in this place. We will be watching.”
“My people are already on their way,” said Wesley. He sounded like a whiney child, voice nasally and entitled.
“You have a cell phone,” I snarled, “call them.”
We stalked into the woods, sitting along the inside of the tree line. We watched him clean up his campsite. Push items into bags, throw things into his car. He looked back, only once, and met my eyes. There was sadness there, and I felt a tiny bit of guilt for hurting him. We were something, once, when we first met. But over time those loves that seem they will never end
fizzle and pop.
I knew what love was now. The burning passion. The trust, the forgiveness, the ability to depend on each other. Wesley was never that for me, only a placeholder. A kind word and a warm body when I needed it. For that, I would be thankful. But we had outgrown each other.
He pulled away and I breathed for the first time in days. My body shifted almost of its own accord, pulling me into my human form. I stood loose, naked, calm, free in the woods that were my home and now housed me again.
Chapter Ten
“Thank you,” I whispered, so glad to be with these men. Undeserving and blessed, finally strong in my relationship.
“You’re crazy,” Roman whispered, stroking my hair. I could feel his hot breath and beating heart next to me. I reached to him, without looking, and let the pads of my fingers dance over his naked chest.
“We’re crazy too,” said Hunter, pressing his hips against my ass and wrapping an arm around my waist. “We are crazy about you.”
The three of us laughed at the ridiculous thing Hunter said. It was so cheesy but so true. I’d risked everything for these men, and they for me, only crazy people would do that.
“So,” I said, turning to my two mates, the only ones I would ever have again, “what now?”
Without saying anything, Hunter leaned forward and pulled me into a passionate kiss. Our tongues danced around each other, darting in and pulling out, twirling and reacting with confidence only soulmates feel. I turned so my whole body faced him, pressing our naked chests together. I marveled at the solidity of his body.
My hand traced over him and I found a small cut in his side. I pulled back, looking at the place where Wesley had marked him. He flinched.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
We kissed again, I led his hand to my breast. He cupped me, rough hands tender on my skin. I loved this man and he loved me. We were both alive. We could finally be together. He ran his thumb over my nipple and I jumped, nerves on edge. I was wet and wanting. He did it again, pulling away with a smirk.
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