Page 42 of The Renegade Mate

With my heart pounding in my chest, I staggered to my feet, my knees trembling. It felt as if the whole world had frozen over, the only movement being the slow swirl of dust and smoke around us.

I glanced back at Ryan, the fury and resolve in his eyes calming my racing heart as he strode toward me.

Gritting my teeth, I turned back to face Korrin as Mason, Shya, and Sam spread out behind me. Behind Korrin, I counted seven—no eight—werewolves. Some in human form, some as wolves.

“So here she is! The stupid bitch who thought she could murder my son and get away with it.”

“Korrin, you don’t want to do this,” I stated, feeling the anger that had lain dormant in my chest for the last few days swell to life. My wolf had been quiet, too quiet, grieving in her own way, but now she was awake and alert and wanted blood. Fuck Seth!

Fuck Brock and Hayley! And fuck fucking Korrin!

I’d had enough of being pushed around, of being driven out, of being attacked. And now, the fucker thought he could attack my Pack, too.

Korrin laughed. “And now the bitch is telling me what I want and don’t want. Didn’t my son teach you any manners? Looks like I get to rectify his mistake.”

“What the hell?” I heard Shya behind me.

“It’s a long story,” Sam replied to her. “But the short version is Mai was kidnapped by his son, Seth. Ryan and Mai then killed Seth. I’m pretty sure he’s here for revenge.”

If Korrin heard Sam, he showed no sign of it.

Shya was silent for a moment, taking it in. “Okay, then,” she said, stretching her arms as if she was warming up. “I get the guys on the right.”

Goddess, I really liked this girl.

“Ready?” Ryan asked beside me, a green sheen flaring in his eyes.

“Hell, yes.”

The stillness of the night shattered as we sprang into action as one. Five against eight. I didn’t care. I welcomed it. I yearned for blood and action, and these idiots just offered it to me on a plate.

Korrin and his werewolves charged like wild beasts.

“Stay close, Mai!” Ryan shouted over the chaos, but I didn’t have time to respond. I headed for a Caucasian werewolf with a trimmed mustache who was running straight at me, his frame bulky with muscle. He lunged, a feral growl ripping from his throat.

Instinct and adrenaline kicked in, the primal part of my mind taking over. I dodged his attack, feeling the rush of air as his fist missed my face by a hair’s breadth. I ducked under his grasp and kicked at the back of his knees. He stumbled forward, then crashed to the ground with a grunt. I knew he wasn’t down for good, but as I spun around, I barely dodged a snapping wolf’s jaws. The female wolf snarled at me, baring her teeth as she prepared to attack again. I didn’t wait for her move; instead, I charged into her, putting my full weight behind it. She yelped in surprise as we tumbled to the ground, rolling in a tangled mess of fur and limbs.

“Get the fuck off her!” The male werewolf was back on his feet, roaring in fury as he grabbed at me. I twisted out of his grip, using the momentum to slam my elbow into his face. He fell back, blood pouring from his now broken nose.

“Surely you can do better than that?” I taunted him, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I knew I shouldn’t provoke him, but I couldn’t help it—I wanted them to know they couldn’t break me.

The female wolf came at me again, her teeth snapping dangerously close to my flesh. I darted to the side, grabbing a fallen branch and swinging it hard against her skull. She collapsed. I turned to see the male werewolf charging straight for me, his eyes wild. I spun a roundhouse kick straight to his jaw. He went down, lights out.

I heard the fighting going on around me, the grunts, the snarls, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. I didn’t know if we were winning or not.

Just a few feet away, Ryan was locked in a battle with Korrin. I felt the pulse of his anxiety for me shoot along our bond. I sent a pulse back.

I’m fine, concentrate on Korrin.

I had no idea if Ryan would get the gist of it, but I hoped so. I needed to help the others. I was about to turn when I hesitated, then watched in horror as Korrin pulled a sword—a fucking sword—from a sheath on his back. I blinked. Korrin wasn’t taking any chances with his revenge.

We were werewolves. We were our own weapons and tended to look down on those who needed knives or guns or fucking swords to win a fight. This blade was short, maybe twenty-one inches. It would make it more maneuverable, especially in close quarters. Korrin made circles in the air with it, warming up his wrist like he knew exactly what he was doing. I ran forward, but stopped when Ryan held out his hand to me.

“Mine,” he growled, his eyes on Korrin.

Alrighty, then.

I’d give him some leeway, but if things looked like they weren’t going his way, nothing was going to stop me from jumping in.

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