Chapter 5 #2
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.