Page 63 of Nearly Dead

She darts for me again, weaving close before jumping away.Several males bark and howl, their taunts toeing the line between challenge and flirtation.Laughter rumbles beneath the playful sounds.

At least I hope they’re playful.I’m not given too much time to process as Rhea darts at me a third time.

Rhea’s fight lasts longer.Unlike James, she doesn’t ram full on, but her cunning makes up for what she lacks in raw power.She darts and weaves, trying to tire me out.

She closes in again, and this time I don’t wait.I fake a stumble, drawing her near.The moment her claws flash, I pivot, slamming my shoulder into her ribs with enough force to lift her off the ground.We crash into the concrete, teeth snapping.She slashes my chest.I drive my fist into her jaw.We roll.Snarl.Tear.There’s no technique now.Just instinct.Just war.

Rhea recovers faster than I’d like.She kicks out with both legs, catching me in the gut and sending me flying backward.I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.My vision blurs.Everything tastes like blood and rage.I rise to one knee, snarling.

She’s already circling again, blood dripping from her mouth.

“You hit like a human,” she taunts, but I can see that I’m taking my toll on her.

I answer by lunging.

We collide midair.Claws tear across my back, and I bite into her shoulder, feeling the give of muscle under my fangs.She screams and draws her claws across my face, scoring my cheek.

Everything around us fades.

There’s no pack.No audience.No torches or concrete or Sully shouting at us to end it.Just her.Just Me.And the animal fury that binds us.

I catch her arm, twist, and throw her again.She slams into a metal wall with a sickening clang and drops.I fight for breath and will her to stay down, but she’s already scrambling to her feet.

We rush each other one last time.

My claws slice across her side.Her knee slams into my ribs.We fall again, tumbling in a tangle of limbs and fur.I smell her pain.She tastes my blood.Neither of us yields.

But then momentum shifts.

I end up on top.My hand wraps around her throat, claws pressing into the vulnerable skin just beneath her jaw.She freezes.I stretch my mouth wide and press my teeth by her throat, ready to bite.I pause, eager to move my hand and clamp down my teeth.

Rhea goes limp, turning her head away and yielding with a reluctant growl which I take as a wolf’s way to surrender.

Sully gives a short growl.He stands with his arms crossed watching to see what I’ll do.I feel the ripple of attention as the crowd realizes what’s happened.Silence spreads like a crack in the earth.

I don’t know what to do.

Every instinct in me screams to finish her, to rip, to rule, towin.But the part of me that’s still human refuses.

I force myself to release her.I step back slowly, watching to see if she does something stupid.

Rhea gasps and rolls away, coughing.She’s lucky.Her pride is more wounded than flesh.It could have been so much more brutal.

I stagger back, panting, blood-slicked and trembling, barely clinging to myself.

I turn slowly, meeting the wide, stunned gazes of the gathered pack.

A hush settles over the arena, thick with tension and anticipation.Then the crowd begins to stir.In my heightened state I expect jeers and taunts, but instead it’s the low, pulsing chant building in volume.

“Alpha!Alpha!Alpha…”

I look at Sully who gives nothing away.They’re not chanting for him.

They’re chanting for me.

My stomach twists.

Across the fighting ring, Sully’s expression hardens.The half shift has faded from him, and he looks human.Well, scary human but human.He steps forward, his movements unhurried but sure.He doesn’t need to posture.

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