Chapter 27 - Tessa
Not only do I watch him bleed, but I also feel it in my own chest.
While the bond has let me feel and see glimpses of his emotions before, it has never felt this intense. At least, I’ve never been given this direct access before.
When Hayes lands a solid hit across Hunter’s flank, I feel the impact like I was the one hit. It isn’t the full range of pain necessarily, but more like the ghost of it. It instills a new kind of urgency in me, making me move anxiously on my paws.
I know Hunter can handle it. I’m watching him handle it with the calculated precision that comes from years of experience and having far too much to lose. He’s not winning cleanly, but he’s winning the important parts.
Hayes hammers down with his relentless pressure, but there’s nothing calculated about his movements. Instead, he’s hitting as hard as he can without studying his opponent’s patterns. The wet ground beneath them only makes everything harder.
I tell myself over and over to stay calm and to keep steady. If Hunter feels anything significant from me through the bond, it could be enough to throw him, and I can’t take that risk.
Dominic has cleared the wolves that surrounded me without wasting time, and with the others to back us up now, my situation doesn’t feel as dire. I’m not alone here, which means I can focus on Hunter instead.
I shifted when Hayes’ wolves started repositioning, as the change came with the same instinctive surge it had in the storm. My wolf rose to meet the challenge before my mind had weighed in on the decision, forcing the Wraith Peak wolves to back off under Dom’s intervention.
Instead of being completely gone, they’re waiting to see what the outcome will be.
I wait too, holding my position because that’s what I’m supposed to do, and because I can’t stand the thought of doing anything else.
Then Hayes hits Hunter across the ribcage, and I hear the impact from here. The force of it cracks down on him with all of his weight behind it. It sounds ugly and deliberate, and Hunter goes sideways with it, losing some traction in the mud.
Rather than going down, he’s forced to reposition, and the bond spikes with something sharp enough to make my body respond before I can think it over.
I’m moving, unable to stand around and wait anymore.
I’ll think about this decision later, about whether it was the right one, or if I disrupted something Hunter had under control. I will have that careful conversation with myself when the threat is gone, and we’ve returned to the tender thing we’ve been building between us.
For now, I’m crossing the clearing at full speed with every ounce of repressed fury I’ve been holding back for years. Hayes is mid-pivot when I hit him from the left.
He doesn’t see me coming, and that’s the only advantage I have over him, so I use it completely.
After spending far too long being small and shrinking just to keep the peace, I’m done with it. Everything with Hunter has helped me see that I don’t need to concede. I don’t need to allow others to back me into corners. Not when I can be and do so much more than that.
Hayes loses his footing in the damp earth, teetering enough to throw his balance. He doesn’t drop, given his own prowess, but the disruption of his momentum takes his focus away from his true target just long enough to change everything.
That second is all Hunter needs.
He registers my presence in the fight through the bond, like a flash of something that’s equal parts alarm and pride. Then he uses the disruption and moves like he has been waiting for exactly this kind of opening.
He comes down on Hayes with everything he has, and this time, the ground helps rather than hinders. The slick earth offers no purchase to Hayes’ scrambling back feet, and Hunter slams him against the earth.
Hayes hits the mud hard, and I back off to give Hunter space.
This is his fight, his territory, his dominance to establish, and I’ve given him what I could, but the rest is his to finish.
Pulling myself back, covered by Dominic and a few others, I watch with quiet admiration.
Hunter’s teeth are at Hayes’ jaw, and the way he pins him there is a direct threat. He could finish this for good and be done with this threat once and for all.
Still, Hayes goes still in silent surrender, seemingly well aware of the fact that his life is now in another’s hands. Regardless of what he tries, he won’t walk away from this if he resists.
The clearing is quiet now with the struggle over, save for the heavy breaths coming from both Hayes and Hunter.
The Wraith Peak wolves move restlessly in the trees, anxious now that their alpha has been beaten and forced into surrender all over again.
The others from our pack watch them closely, accepting that Hunter has won. Some growl quietly in warning, making sure the intruders don’t step out of line.
Hayes doesn’t move while Hunter holds the position long enough for the reality of it to settle into everyone watching, and long enough for Hayes to feel the full pressure of where he is and what it means.
Go, it says. I’m giving you this once.
Hayes gives a low whine, but he relents, held beneath the dominance no alpha should yield to. And yet, he has no other choice.
Hunter releases him and steps back. A moment later, he shifts into his usual form, standing in the clearing with mud on his skin and a cut on his shoulder that’s still trickling.
Rather than wearing a mask for the pack, he carries that natural authority, as he knows without question that it has been earned.
He looks at Hayes with his jaw tight. “Take your people and leave my territory. If I see you here again, this won’t be the last time I have you pinned in the dirt.”
Even in his wolf form, that fury beneath it all is still there, but now it’s wrapped in humiliation as he pushes himself up.
He got what he came for in the very worst way. He wanted to show his pack that he could challenge Hunter, draw him out, and demonstrate the vulnerability he’d been trying so hard to manipulate since the first time he lost.
What he demonstrated instead is his incompetence and lack of self-control.
Where he wanted to prove himself as a worthy alpha, and one who could operate under his own set of rules without being scrutinized by the others, he submitted. Now, he has no choice if he means to stay alive.
Hayes doesn’t shift back or offer anything more than the silent acknowledgment through his eyes. It’s telling of the pride still there, and how he’s desperately trying to cling to it.
He turns, and the wolves at the perimeter read it immediately. With their own pack-link signal, they start pulling back in quiet surrender before disappearing into the trees.
Our wolves push them. Rather than attacking, they stay right on their heels with just enough pressure to keep them moving and to guide them back the way they came.
Cliff lingers at the tree line a moment longer, in his own wolf form, and I feel his gaze on us before he falls in line behind Hayes.
Then they’re gone.
The sounds of the chase extend into the trees, getting quieter as they move with the charged barks and yips of victory. Dom passes me going the same direction with an unhurried stride, and he glances at me in passing with an expression that takes me a second to read.
He looks both surprised and approving, then he’s beyond me and in the trees with the others.
With no one else around, the clearing settles into silence, which feels like open relief in the wake of something significant.
Hunter isn’t far as he looks at me, and I look back.
The mud has soaked my paws while the cliffside wind pulls at my wet fur, still smelling like the storm in a way.
We’re the only two people left in the clearing, and through the bond, something moves between us.
It’s more like an unorganized jumble of lingering fear, relief, and whatever else I can’t place right now.
Everything we just experienced condenses down to a few emotions and lingering thoughts, but in the wake of it all, I’m just glad that we’re both here and safe.
While Hunter looks at me with an expression I can’t read, I shift back.
When I do, I see the cut on his shoulder more clearly, along with the exhaustion on his face post-fight. But regardless of how tired he is, he doesn’t seem worn down. Rather, he’s keeping himself together, likely for both our sakes.
I notice my shaking hands too, along with the mud on both of us, yet none of it seems important enough to dwell on.
None of that controlled authority exists in his expression now, having melted down into whatever concern he has left.
He’s across the distance before I’ve finished taking a breath, and his hands find my face the way they did in the storm. He checks me over carefully, with all the attention required to assess potential damage.
“You’re okay,” he says, and it comes out less like a question and more like something he’s telling himself. He needs that reassurance just as much as I do.
“I’m okay,” I confirm, softening in his hold and savoring it more than I ever thought possible.
His hands are still on me, moving from my face to my shoulders, then to my waist in a grounding hold. He’s looking at me with the full weight of whatever just moved through the bond, and I can’t take my eyes off him either.
With it all said and done, I can feel the weight of what I did. The fact that I crossed a clearing in the middle of a fight and helped take down an enemy alpha because I couldn’t stand the thought of Hunter getting hurt.
I don’t know what to do with that information yet, but I do know that I don’t regret it, and I never will.
Still, I can feel what that decision earned me: the ability to stand in this clearing with him and acknowledge the living, breathing connection between us. It’s loud and satisfied now, and I know Hunter feels it too.
I can see the recognition of what I did and what it means on his face, along with the words neither of us uses.
Instead, Hunter pulls me closer and presses his mouth to mine, pouring in everything we had to hold back until now.
His warmth surrounds me, but after everything, I’ll gladly drown in it.