Chapter 63 #2
The centuries-old alpha leaped across the table and shifted. Eldrick braced just in time as a pure muscle of wolf form barreled into him. He and Bjorn tumbled, he still in his male form, and Bjorn’s beastly claws digging into his wool tunic.
An alpha-on-alpha brawl hadn’t taken place in centuries, but an embedded custom rippled through the hall.
A respect for their one-on-one fight was ingrained in the magic of the werewolves’ inner beasts.
As Eldrick and Bjorn wrestled, bumped against table and chairs and circled the other, those gathered gave them a wide berth and created a makeshift ring at the center of the Drabek Hall.
Bjorn snarled, dark, angry eyes focused solely on Eldrick. The hundreds of werewolves disappeared from Eldrick’s peripherals. He bared his teeth, facing off against his opponent full of ire.
Weeks’ worth of turmoil thanks to Bjorn brought them to a brawl. Eldrick unsheathed his axe. Adrenaline buzzed through him, his axe’s shaft molding to his hand as he gripped it tighter, squatting lower into a defensive stance.
Waiting. Anticipating. Tasting the air for Bjorn’s next move.
The alpha launched. Eldrick braced, holding his axe at both ends out horizontally. As Bjorn pushed him to the ground and snapped his teeth, Eldrick shoved his axe into the alpha’s mouth, driving it between his teeth.
Bjorn growled, but it came out more like a huff, fanning Eldrick in his reeking breath. He shook his head, struggling to break free of Eldrick’s axe. But Eldrick’s grip wouldn’t loosen on the right side, and if his opponent swiveled left, he risked the bladed end slicing through his lips.
Pain pierced Eldrick’s side, and he yanked himself free. He kicked Bjorn and scrambled back, clutching his side. Eldrick peeked down, he caught blood soaking his hands. Claw marks ran across his ribs. As Bjorn circled him, a single paw left a bloody print.
Eldrick set his shoulders back and tremored head to feet.
He called upon his inner wolf and grasped the magic to shift into his beastly form.
Bone stretched, muscle tore. His skin sprouted hair and then a thick coat of brown fur.
His shins elongated and his thighs widened.
Eldrick grew taller. Stronger. More at one with magic and wolf than ever before.
He held onto his axe, standing on his hind legs, and attacked.
Bjorn roared, rising on his hind legs too. He used his claws as a blade, blocking Eldrick’s blows, forearm against forearm. Frustration leaked from the alpha. He was larger, stronger by many years, but Eldrick was swift. Despite his looming weight, a foot-taller than Bjorn, he moved with ease.
Eldrick fought with every fiber of his being and heart. His hits and jabs at Bjorn did not reflect hate, but instead were full of hope, purpose, and promise.
The fight no longer belonged to Eldrick.
His brawl against Bjorn was for the Vadon Mountains.
The packs. And a future he so desperately wished for.
Envisioning his goal with each blow of his axe and swipe of his claw, Eldrick stepped forward, herding Bjorn back into the crowd.
He inhaled the promise of his homeland free of the Blood Curse, Sorin finally at peace.
Witches, werewolves, and vampyrs all thriving.
He thought of the four seasons in the Vadon Mountains. Experiencing his first Drystan summer with his love. Witnessing his future littles running through the halls of Lār, readying to play in the snow.
With that, he ducked and averted one of Bjorn’s blows, thrusting a punch straight into the alpha’s gut. Power—from the lands, gods, his wolf, Eldrick wasn’t certain—embedded into the jab. It rocked Bjorn back so harshly the alpha shifted from his beast form to his male form, falling to the stone.
A deafening silence leached through the hall, and wolfish energy stood to attention as Eldrick shifted to his male form, striding towards Bjorn.
Eldrick held his blade at Bjorn’s throat, halting him from rising. He’d beat him, for all the alphas to see.
“Be done with it.” Bjorn didn’t meet his stare, lethally still with rage.
Opportunity presented itself to Eldrick. He’d drawn his weapon’s blade across another male’s throat before. Shoved poison done another’s. But his heart begged him to ask another question.
What sort of leader was he?
Eldrick sheathed his axe. “I’m not like you, Bjorn. I won’t cut another while they’re down.”
Eldrick swallowed his triumph, and amid the crowd, Tovi stood with Bétar and Yennifer, a slight smile playing on her perfect rosy lips. Eldrick tore his gaze away from the most beautiful woman in the room, and assessed the other alphas. He cleared his throat, heart thudding in his chest.
“Alpha Thorn, what is your vote?” Eldrick asked
“Drengr,” his newfound friend Leif said without hesitation.
“Alpha Drabek?” he asked next.
His aunt nodded, a prideful smile reaching her eyes. “Drengr.”
“Yours?”
Skau spat at Eldrick’s feet. “Johannes.”
Eldrick cracked his neck, at least admiring Skau’s loyalty. He dropped his attention to Lindstrom and Alland next. Both alphas voted the Drengr name.
“I vouch for my own name,” he declared to the hall.
Eldrick turned to the last alpha and outstretched his hand, offering to help the alpha stand.
Bjorn swatted it out the way with snarl and rose. “Fuck off.”
“Do you care to vote?” Eldrick asked.
The alpha rose. “I cast my own name, Johannes.”
Eldrick nodded and swallowed. “Let it be known, the vote tallies at five for the Drengrs and two for Johannes. The Drengrs reinstate their claim to the Earl vote.”
Cheers erupted. Bétar hollered Eldrick’s name.
Alpha Bjorn bumped his shoulder and whispered into his ear, “You will regret sparing my life. Mark my words, pup, I’ll never answer to you as Earl.”
“So be it, Bjorn,” Eldrick whispered. “Damn the Johannes for all I care, the other alphas will answer to me.”
Bjorn sneered as he retreated out of the hall. “We’ll shall see. There is still a ceremony to be had, pup.”
Eldrick let the male walk away, refusing to let him rile him or his wolf any longer. He had won the Earl vote. Across the way, the woman he loved stared with arms crossed, sword strapped to her back, and a wine cup in hand. She lifted it, saluting him.
Leif gripped his shoulder, giving it a fierce shake. Bétar approached, smile wide, and—
“Stars above, are you crying, Commander?” he asked.
“Aye.” Bétar rested his hands on Eldrick’s shoulders. “It is a wonderful thing to be proud of one’s friend, Earl.”
Eldrick grimaced. “For the love of moons, please don’t call me that.”
Leif chuckled. “You’ll have to get used to it. After the ascension of course.”
“Right,” Eldrick said. “Soon enough.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance as a snowstorm prepared on the horizon.
Cold crept up Eldrick’s back. Like a tug he couldn’t avoid, his attention found Tovi in the crowd again, the cheers and congratulations drowning out.
Despite everything falling seemingly into place, Eldrick wasn’t sure he’d ever get use to the title he’d earned.