Page 28 of Scapegoat

Us, I thought furiously. Us.

“The winner of each bout will go onto the next round and so on and so on, until only one group is left standing.”

Mike was the biggest alpha and when he stepped forward, plenty of boys stepped back.

“There will be no attacks to the jugular or anywhere else that can cause irreparable harm or death.” He then pointed out each area we had to avoid. The big veins in the neck were the first, obviously, but there were others in the groin, at the wrists that were also off limits. I listened, but didn’t really focus, seeing instead what would be...

A vision of us standing before the alphas, our skin streaked with blood and sweat, the victors. We’d be breathing hard, our muscles shaking, but we’d know that we were the only real contenders amongst all the young men of the pack. Then the alphas would approach us, slowly at first, taking our measure, seeing how we didn’t back down for a second. The resulting fight? We wouldn’t be able to overpower the alphas, but we’d be able to put on a good enough show to prove what we already knew.

That we were like them.

I was so caught up in my own head, their order came as a bit of a shock.

“Shift!”

I knew that it was coming, but had no idea how to make it happen, the wolf having paced back and forth inside me for days. But even as I experienced that moment of ‘what the fuck do I do?’, it happened. I’d lived my whole life with one understanding of my body. Two legs, two hands, had been walking upright since I was a few months old. I knew what I could and couldn’t do. And becoming a wolf was firmly in the ‘couldn’t’ column. My brain was stuck in my human form, aware of the other one, but never able to reach it. But the alpha’s order was not to be denied. Before I could even think twice, a bridge between the two halves of my soul formed and everything changed.

My body felt like it was turning itself inside out, joints breaking as they turned in directions they’d never been able to, muscles snapping and reforming, all before I could even scream. My brain throbbed in time with my heart as my skull changed, my spine lengthened, my legs twisted, until I fell forward on my hands and knees.

Actually, make that paws.

I stared down at them, my long ears flicking, my pants coming in so much louder now. And all around me were other boys, other wolves. There were no words, no thoughts, just a few stray whines and an abrupt bark. But then the alphas stepped forward.

“To the edges of the clearing,” Mike ordered and we moved without thinking, backing up, even as our much sharper eyes sized up our opponents. “If you move from that spot before your group is called, you and yours are automatically disqualified. Now.”

He looked us over, focussing on the sizes of our beasts and the way we clustered together. Some groups seemed to fracture the moment they took fur, the bonds the boys had forged meaning nothing to their wolves. But my brothers and me? We sat still, quiet, and waited.

“Colin’s group and Jared’s.” Mike nodded. “Begin.”

Humans imagine wolves to be savage beasts. The way they portray werewolves in the media? We’re always a bee’s dick away from going into beast mode and rampaging through human settlements. But while actual wolves are vicious killers when they bring down prey, that kind of energy is saved for the hunt. It takes too much energy to bring down an opponent and kill them, without having the resulting reward of a massive meal, so it’s only done when it’s really needed. So fights between wolves, while terrifying for humans to watch, are largely for show.

There’s a lot of snarling and baring of fangs, lots of slamming into each other to throw them off balance—because once you’re on the ground, you’re fucked. The other wolves will pile on top of you, fangs going for your throat, your legs, the softness of your belly, and they’ll fuck you up. So, while we listened to the brutal music of the other wolves’ battle cries, we waited calmly for our turn.

“The Campbell brothers,” Jack said after another group who had lost were sent to the perimeter of the circle to rest. “And the Lalors.”

Finally, it was on.

Chapter 17

Jayden

There were four Lalors, brothers and cousins, and only three of us, but we didn’t acknowledge that advantage as we stepped into the ring. Our paws moved with certainty, taking sure, slow steps towards them. We noted the way several of the other wolves took a step backwards, their animals acknowledging our dominance, even if the men inside didn’t. But this was the way it had to be.

Humans were always pushing at each other, trying to see who’d come out on top. Their monkey beginnings meant that they couldn’t just accept shit; create a stable hierarchy. Someone was always looking for a way up, but that wasn’t the way it was with us. This was our proving ground. We would give it our all today and then we would know: whether we really were the contenders we thought we were, or if we were actually a lot further down the line in power than we thought.

I stepped forward, maintaining my wolf form, and my brothers clustered in close, watching, waiting for the others to move. Some of the Lalors started to snarl, bare their fangs, but Atlas made clear how little he was impressed by that by sitting down on his haunches. The wolf at the front, Dave Lalor, I was willing to bet, lunged forward at that, jaws snapping, a terrible snarl gathering in his chest, but we didn’t move a muscle. Because somehow, maybe due to our wolfsense, we could tell which way things would fall. Dave stopped short, snapping on air, not fur, even though I did feel the breeze from his movement ruffling my pelt. I just stared him and his boys down, and so did my brothers.

“Stop playing,” Brock told the Lalors. “Make your play or step down.”

Dave growled, paced back and forth, obviously trying to rally the troops, but we saw the weakness in his group. He was out for blood, but the others? I looked at my brothers and they nodded, before we attacked.

Dave’s packmates were sent yelping away with a few well-placed nips, and we harried them right to the edges of the clearing, making clear the mistake they’d made in taking us on. Once Dave was isolated from his support, he should’ve backed down.

But he didn’t. And his actions showed why the challenge was so damn important for more than determining who would lead the pack.

It settled this, dickheads thinking they were badder than what they were. The three of us stalked forward, giving Dave ample time to step off, but he twisted and whirled, snarling at me, then Atlas and finally Xavier, as if that was enough to stop us. Without the rest of his pack, he was at an impossible disadvantage: when his back was turned, Atlas strode forward, slamming his much bigger body into Dave’s, and once he had the other wolf on its back, we all lunged forward.

I tried to remember the alphas’ words, I did, really, but once we had him down and the stupid fuck kept on growling, it was hard. Instincts pumped as hard and fast as my blood. Go for the throat, they told me. Snap his fucking legs. He’ll run with a limp for the rest of his life, thinking twice about ever challenging you again. But being an alpha was a fuckload more than being the biggest, baddest wolf in the pack. There were adults who had bigger wolves than some of the alphas.

---