Page 66 of Defiant
Yes,I tell him, unable to respond in more than single syllables because I’m tied up so tightly by bloodthirsty excitement.
An air horn blasts, signaling the start of the fight, and suddenly I can hear again.
With a roar, I start to transform, and I watch Stone do the same. My clothing, which I picked for effect, rips away in tattered pieces as my arms grow and become matted with white fur, as my ears turn into wolf ears, and my entire face becomes an animal’s, my nose elongating into a wolf muzzle full of snarling, sharp teeth.
The crowd goes wild, my shifters standing and cheering, stomping their feet on the metal bleachers.
Stone’s fiends do the same.
I’m gratified to see that my monster stands a bit taller than Stone’s brown beast. But I don’t get more than a second to gloat before he charges, making the first move.
A grizzled claw hurtles towards my face and I can see it coming with perfect clarity, those curved nails as sharp as any blade. I grin in my monstrous form and instead of leaning away, lean in toward the threat. I put my face into the path of that claw and use my teeth to snap at Stone’s arm. He retreats. But not fast enough. My mouth closes down over a pinkie finger as his hand pulls back and I apply pressure until I hear a crunch.
Fuck yes.
First blood.
Satisfaction unfurls like a ribbon inside my head, a ribbon painted blood red.
My instinct is to howl, my wolf wants to toss my head up, but as I begin to celebrate, I realize that Stone expected that. Shifters gloat. Horror floods me as I register the fact that Stone probably let me get that hit in so that I would howl and expose my throat.
I jerk backward but his claws slice across my neck and blood jets out along with onyx-colored panic … and I wonder if I didn’t just make a deadly mistake.
24
Elena
I looklike the high-end hooker that these alphas think an omega is supposed to be. I absolutely hate the dress Black picked for me. I’m wearing a fire-engine red A-Line dress with a deep v neck and tight full-length sleeves. The sleeves are the only part of the thing that fully covers the appropriate body part because the neckline is so low that I feel like I’m about to fall out of it. The skirt has multiple slits so that it falls in what Matthew had called panels and I’d called fucking ribbons.
He’d laughed.
I hadn’t.
But I put on the stupid thing along with the matching four-inch heels because this dress and stupid “victory presentation” idea of Black’s is my key to escape. It’s the only way I’m going to get out of this basement and even stand a chance.
Anxiety floods my system as I lean forward over the bathroom countertop, the harsh light making my mascara obvious. My mind races with possibilities. Jonah didn’t text me again except for once.
Delete all my contact information on your phone and this text.
It had taken me nearly two hours to remove every email, every text, every photo. Each deletion had tugged at my heartstrings. But it had given me something to focus on instead of the pit of despair that my mind was digging. And it had proven that Jonah’s serious. He has a plan. I just have to trust it.
How the tables are reversed. I used to come up with all our plans. Now, I’ll be walking into this blind.
I hate giving up control. But this is Jonah—so I will.
I blow out a breath and purse my lips close to the mirror. I smear on some red lipstick, the only part of this entire getup that actually feels like me. And then I turn to Matthew, who’s waiting patiently in the doorway.
“Lovely,” he tells me. “Are you ready to go?”
I nod and stop for a moment, staring at the older gentleman, one who had actually given to me instead of taken from me. Matthew’s a good guy. It’s too bad he’s tangled up with Black and all of this. Before I can think the better of them, words slip out from between my lips. “It was nice knowing you.”
He raises a brow. “So certain Alpha Maddox will lose the match?”
I give a shrug, letting him draw his own conclusions. But my heart gives an uncomfortable little twinge when I do that. Do I want Black to actually die? I’ve never wished death upon someone before. After all he’s done, maybe I’d be justified.
But some piece of me rebels against that.
Maybe that’s just not the type of person that I want to be. Yes, that’s it.
