Page 43 of The Renegade Mate

Korrin moved, swinging the sword fast toward Ryan. Ryan jumped back out of range, but Korrin went with him, swinging at Ryan’s face. Ryan ducked under it and slammed his fist into the side of Korrin’s head. I caught a glimpse of Ryan’s face—a mask of grim determination, his eyes focused, the muscle in his jaw twitching with suppressed fury.

Korrin attacked again, a roar ripping from his throat. Ryan dashed in close to Korrin, blocked the swipe, grabbed his wrist, and twisted. I heard the pop of his broken wrist from where I stood. The sword fell to the ground, and Ryan kicked it away.

“Shya, watch out!” Mason’s shout pulled my attention away from my mate. I turned to see Mason throw himself in front of Shya, taking the brunt of a vicious swipe from one of the wolves. Blood sprayed through the air, and Mason crumpled to the ground, clutching his side.

“Damn it, Mason!” Shya cried out as she rushed the wolf, jumped on its back, bore it to the ground, and smashed its skull against the floor until it went limp.

I ran over to Mason just as I heard a sickening crunch of bone and Korrin howl with pain. I looked back to see Korrin on the ground, clutching his leg, Ryan standing over him.

“Go! I’ve got Mason,” Shya called to me.

I looked around. Korrin and his followers were all down; some conscious, some not. I didn’t look too closely to see if any were dead. I brought my gaze back to Korrin; he was glaring at me, the hatred in his eyes clear.

I walked slowly over to him, then knelt beside him, my voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry about Seth,” I said, meeting his glare unflinchingly. “I really am. But Seth’s dead. He deserved what he got. You keep coming at us, and you’ll get what you deserve, too.”

“This isn’t over,” he growled, and I knew he was right. If he had a contract with Brock and Hayley, he wouldn’t stop until we were dead. I thought for a moment about killing him. He didn’t just attack Ryan and me; he attacked our Pack. As Alpha, killing him before he could come at us again was the smart thing to do. But I knew I couldn’t, not when he was beaten and defenseless. That wasn’t the kind of Alpha I wanted to be.

Ryan placed a hand on my shoulder. He knew through the bond what I was feeling, just like I knew he disagreed with me, but that he’d respect my decision. I stood up as Ryan delivered a front kick to Korrin’s head. He pulled it just enough to knock Korrin out, not to do any real damage. Ryan did a quick search of Korrin’s pockets, pulling out a set of car keys.

“We need to move,” Ryan called out, throwing a worried glance toward where Shya and Sam were helping Mason up. I nodded, standing up and leaving Korrin behind as I rushed toward a dark blue SUV parked a short distance away.

I opened the doors as Shya and Sam got Mason in the back seat, then jumped in the passenger side. Ryan started the car, and we sped away. Mason was struggling with his injuries, his face pale from the blood loss. Shya was beside him, her hand pushing against his wound, trying to stem the flood of blood, her face a mask of frustration and concern.

“You’re an idiot, Mason Shaw,” she said, her voice louder than she probably intended. “I can look after myself. I don’t need you hovering over me like some overprotective bodyguard.”

Mason met her fiery gaze, amusement glinting in his own eyes. “My apologies. I’ll be sure to wait at least six feet away from you when you’re fighting, lest you accuse me of hovering.”

Shya let out an exasperated huff. “You know what I mean. I can handle myself.”

“Of course. Though, perhaps you’d permit me to handle any attackers trying to sneak up on you before they get within striking distance? Only so you can properly handle yourself in the main fight, that is,” Mason replied, lips quirking.

“You think you’re so funny,” Shya snapped, “but I’m telling you that if you ever get in the way of my fight again, it won’t be my opponent you need to worry about.”

“Er, guys?” Sam interrupted, his voice weak and shaky. “I think …” Sam slumped over into Shya’s lap.

“Shit!”

“Pull over, Ryan,” I ordered.

He swung the car left, and I jumped out, yanking open Sam’s door. Ryan helped me get Sam out and on the ground. Ryan did a thorough search of Sam’s body, trying to find where he was injured.

“Head wound. Probable broken ribs. Maybe internal bleeding.”

We couldn’t help Sam here. We needed to get him to a doctor.

“Put the back seats down; we can lie both Sam and Mason on that.”

Ryan and Shya did what I ordered; we put the two men in the back, and we took off again. Sam’s condition worsened with each passing minute, his breathing more and more labored. Ryan was driving with a grim determination, navigating the deserted roads back toward Bridgetown.

I squeezed his hand. “It’ll be okay.”

“We need to hurry,” Shya called from the back, her voice tense. “They’re both going downhill.”

Chapter twenty-five

Mai

In the back, Mason was a grim statue of pain, his skin leeched of its usual healthy color. Next to him, Shya struggled to keep her composure, her usually fiery eyes now filled with worry and frustration. Her small hands pushed against Mason’s wound, trying to stop the crimson flood staining his shirt, but the blood wouldn’t stop.

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