CHAPTER 10 - BLOOD AND CLAIM
The moon turns red.
Not slowly.
Not gently.
One moment it hangs pale and distant above the treeline, the next it bleeds across the sky, staining the clearing in a deep, unnatural crimson.
A collective unease ripples through the pack.
I feel it like a pulse beneath my feet.
Old magic.
Old warnings.
Ryan sees it too. I catch the flicker in his expression, brief but sharp, before his focus snaps back to Daniel.
“Now?” Ryan mutters under his breath. “Of course it’s now.”
Daniel’s mouth curves, slow and deliberate. “Seems fitting.”
His voice carries easily, even without raising it.
“This ends tonight.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
Something about the moon feels wrong. Not just symbolic. Not just dramatic.
Alive.
Watching.
Waiting.
The circle tightens again, wolves pressing back just enough to give space, but not enough to escape what’s about to happen.
No one leaves.
No one looks away.
Ryan steps forward, his shoulders rolling once, tension settling into something controlled, lethal. His gaze doesn’t waver from Daniel.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, almost casually.
Daniel lets out a quiet laugh. “We’re well past that.”
Ryan tilts his head slightly. “Yeah. Thought I’d give you one last chance to walk away with your pride intact.”
“Pride isn’t what’s at stake.”
Daniel’s eyes flick to me.
Then back.
Something cold settles in my stomach.
No.
It’s not just pride.
It’s possession.
Power.
Legacy.
“You’ve always been reckless,” Daniel continues. “But this?” He shakes his head once. “This is stupidity.”
Ryan’s lips twitch. “Guess we’ll find out.”
The shift happens without warning.
One second they’re standing there, human and controlled.
The next—
Bone cracks.
Muscle tears.
Power erupts.
Daniel’s wolf explodes forward first, massive and dark, fur like shadow and eyes burning gold. The ground shudders under his weight as he lands, a low, guttural growl ripping from his chest.
Ryan follows a heartbeat later.
His wolf is just as large.
But brighter.
Silver threaded through deep charcoal, his eyes a sharp, piercing blue that locks instantly on Daniel.
The bond between us snaps tight.
Not fragile.
Not flickering.
Solid.
Unbreakable.
I feel him.
Not just physically.
Emotionally.
Instinctively.
Every ounce of his focus, his restraint, his barely leashed aggression.
And beneath it—
Me.
Always me.
My breath catches.
The fight begins.
They collide in a blur of teeth and claws, the impact echoing through the clearing like thunder. Dirt flies. Bodies slam. Growls tear through the air, raw and vicious.
This isn’t a test.
This is a war.
Daniel strikes first, fast and brutal, aiming for Ryan’s throat. Ryan twists at the last second, taking the hit along his shoulder instead. Blood spills instantly, dark against silver fur.
I flinch.
“Ryan—”
He doesn’t hear me.
Or he does, and it fuels him.
He counters hard, slamming into Daniel’s side with enough force to send both of them skidding across the clearing. The ground rips beneath them, claws digging in, tearing earth apart.
The pack watches in silence now.
No cheering.
No interference.
Just the heavy, oppressive weight of witnessing something that will change everything.
My chest tightens with every hit.
Every snap of jaws.
Every spray of blood.
They’re evenly matched.
Too evenly.
Daniel fights like he always has—precise, controlled, ruthless.
Ryan fights like something has been unleashed.
Something deeper.
Something that doesn’t care about rules.
A snarl tears from Daniel as Ryan catches him across the flank, teeth sinking deep. He retaliates immediately, twisting and slamming Ryan down hard enough that I hear the crack from where I stand.
My stomach drops.
“Get up,” I whisper, my hands curling into fists. “Get up.”
The bond pulses.
Ryan surges back to his feet.
Stronger.
Faster.
But something else threads through it now.
Pain.
And something darker.
I stagger slightly as it hits me.
Not just his pain.
Mine.
A sharp, sudden pressure low in my abdomen makes me gasp.
My hand flies there instinctively.
No.
Not now.
Not here.
The realization hits me like ice water.
The child.
The truth I’ve barely had time to process, buried under everything else.
My wolf goes still.
Then protective.
Fierce.
Territorial.
Mine.
The word isn’t just instinct.
It’s a vow.
The fight crashes closer again, dragging my attention back. Ryan and Daniel slam into each other just feet away, their bodies colliding with bone-shaking force.
Ryan’s breathing is heavier now.
Daniel’s movements are sharper.
More desperate.
More dangerous.
He’s losing control.
And that makes him unpredictable.
“End it,” someone whispers from the edge.
I don’t know who.
I don’t care.
Because I see it.
The shift.
The opening.
Ryan sees it too.
He lunges, faster than before, teeth locking onto Daniel’s throat, forcing him down, pinning him hard against the ground.
The clearing erupts in sound—gasps, movement, tension snapping.
It’s over.
It should be over.
Daniel goes still.
For one second.
Two.
Then he laughs.
The sound is wrong in a wolf’s body. Twisted. Wet.
Ryan hesitates.
Just enough.
Mistake.
Daniel’s body shifts violently beneath him, not retreating but changing—his form flickering, unstable, something unnatural breaking through.
My breath catches.
That’s not—
That’s not normal.
“Ryan, move!”
Too late.
Daniel surges upward with a burst of strength that shouldn’t be possible, throwing Ryan off balance. His claws rake deep across Ryan’s side, tearing flesh open.
Ryan stumbles back.
Blood pours.
My vision tunnels.
No.
No, this isn’t how this ends.
Something inside me snaps.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Power.
My wolf rises fully this time, not restrained, not waiting for permission.
I step forward.
The ground seems to shift under my feet, responding, recognizing.
The air thickens.
Even the pack feels it—I hear the sharp intakes of breath, the sudden silence that follows.
Daniel turns toward me.
Even now, even bleeding, even losing—
He smiles.
“You don’t even know what you are,” he says.
“Maybe not,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. “But I know what I’m not.”
His eyes flick to my stomach.
And something dark and knowing settles there.
“You think you can protect it?” he asks softly.
Ice floods my veins.
“How—”
He laughs again.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t sense it?”
Ryan growls, low and dangerous, forcing himself between us again despite the blood soaking his side.
Daniel watches him, amused.
“Ah,” he says. “Now it makes sense.”
My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
“Stay behind me,” Ryan says, his voice rough but unyielding.
“No,” I whisper.
Not again.
Not ever again.
I step up beside him.
Together.
The bond between us flares, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, locking into place like something ancient recognizing itself.
Unbreakable.
Daniel’s expression shifts.
For the first time—
Uncertainty.
Then rage.
“You think this changes anything?” he snarls.
“It changes everything,” Ryan says.
They move at the same time.
Daniel lunges.
Ryan meets him.
And I—
I don’t stay back.
Power surges through me, raw and blinding. My wolf bursts free, not fully shifting, but present enough that I feel her strength, her instincts guiding me.
I move.
Faster than I should be able to.
Stronger than I’ve ever been.
Daniel doesn’t expect it.
That’s his second mistake.
I slam into him from the side just as he aims for Ryan’s throat, throwing off his trajectory. His claws still strike—but not where he intended.
Not Ryan.
Me.
Pain explodes across my side, sharp and searing.
I gasp, stumbling.
Ryan’s roar shakes the clearing.
And then—
It ends.
Ryan’s jaws close around Daniel’s throat with brutal, final precision.
A snap.
A collapse.
Daniel’s body goes still.
The world seems to stop.
For one suspended, impossible moment.
Then everything rushes back.
Sound.
Breath.
Pain.
I sway where I stand, blood warm against my skin, my vision blurring at the edges.
Ryan shifts back, human again, dropping to his knees beside me.
“Emma,” he says, his voice rough, breaking in a way I’ve never heard before. “Hey—stay with me.”
I try to focus on him.
On the way his hands hover, afraid to hurt me more.
On the bond between us, still steady, still there.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
But something feels wrong.
Not just the pain.
Not just the blood.
Daniel’s body.
I glance past Ryan.
It’s still there.
Too still.
Then—
It twitches.
My breath catches.
Ryan follows my gaze.
And for the first time since the fight began—
I see fear in his eyes.
Because Daniel’s chest rises.
Once.
Twice.
And his eyes snap open.
Not gold, Not human.
Something else entirely.
Something ancient.
Something that was never supposed to survive.
“Oh God,” I breathe.
Daniel smiles.
Even with his throat torn open.
Even as blood fills his mouth. “You should have finished it properly,” he rasps.
And then he moves.