20. Mai

Chapter twenty

Mai

E veryone froze.

My eyes went to Ryan’s. His massive form vibrated with barely contained fury, desperate to take action but knowing if he made a move, he would kill me and our baby. The rage there was absolute, primal—his True Werewolf form seeming to grow even larger as his muscles bunched, preparing to tear Gabrielle apart. But he didn’t move. None of them did. The entire Three Rivers Pack had gone completely still.

Gabrielle’s claws dug into my throat, drawing tiny pinpricks of blood. “I mean it,” she snarled. “Everyone back off. We got what we came for. No one else needs to die.”

I wasn’t buying that for a second. They would use me and Lark to capture the others, then kill us all. They couldn’t afford to leave any witnesses alive.

“Let the witch go,” Artie ordered, his hands clamped tight over Lark’s muzzle. Her eyes rolled with hatred as she squirmed beneath him, but he held her fast.

I could smell the satisfaction rolling off Gabrielle in waves. Through our mate bond, I felt Ryan’s struggle, and it was the same as mine—fear, cold as steel, slicing along the bond, with the overwhelming urge to protect warring with the tactical need to wait for an opening.

Ryan nodded at Maxwell, and he released the blonde. The male witch was unconscious, his body a mess of bloody gashes, slowly leaking into the surrounding snow.

The blonde’s voice cut through the silence. “Well, well. Looks like we found their weakness.” She stepped forward, her boots crunching in the bloodied snow. “All that power and you let it fall apart the moment someone threatens your Alpha.”

We are not weak. My wolf snarled inside me.

Damn fucking right, we weren’t.

“Face it,” Gabrielle panted as she swiped blood from a claw mark above her right eye. “You lost. Be smart now and minimize the damage while you still can. Stand down. We’ll take Lark and release your Alpha when we get to your borders.”

Ryan’s face was blank, but I could see in his eyes that he was considering all the angles, trying to find one that kept me and our baby alive.

My mind flashed to Lark’s face as she’d told us about her family—the pain, the loss, the betrayal by her own Alphas. For fuck’s sake, she thought she was safer with a biker gang than a Pack now. Rage surged through me. No. We’d promised to protect her, and we would keep that promise. Ryan had warned me not to make rash decisions. I knew it was my temper and my hormones pushing me to act, but Sofia was right; I had to trust my instincts. They were all I had left right now.

Lark went completely limp in Artie’s grasp.

Shit! We were out of time.

“No deal,” I snarled despite the claws at my throat.

Gabrielle’s grip tightened. “You don’t get a say in this.”

I laughed, the sound harsh and cold. “I’m the fucking Alpha of the Three Rivers Pack. I always get a say.”

I felt Ryan’s sharp attention focus on me. He knew that tone. Knew what it meant. I was done playing nice.

I looked back at my beautiful Ryan. In that moment, something passed between us—he knew what I was going to do. He gave me the barest of nods.

I smiled.

Then I moved.

I drove my elbow back into Gabrielle’s solar plexus, simultaneously dropping my weight and twisting. Her claws raked my neck as I broke free, but I barely felt it. My wolf surged forward, lending me her strength as I spun and slammed my fist into her jaw.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Artie loosen his hold on Lark. The moment his grip slackened, Lark twisted violently, her small form writhing like an eel. Her teeth found his hand, and she bit down hard. Artie howled, instinctively releasing her, then stumbled back.

The battlefield erupted.

The witch’s spell hit me like a freight train, sending me sprawling into the snow. Pain exploded through my side, but I tucked and rolled. Behind me, I heard Ryan’s earth-shattering snarl as he finally had the opening he needed.

Ryan burst into motion, his massive True Werewolf form crossing the distance in a single bound. The witch raised her hands, magic crackling, but she was a fraction too slow. Ryan’s massive paw caught her square in the chest, sending her flying backward into a tree with a sickening crunch.

I scrambled to my feet, one hand protectively curved around my stomach. Blood trickled down my neck from Gabrielle’s claws, but my wolf was singing with fierce joy. We were free to fight now, and my Pack no longer had to hold back.

Gabrielle screamed in rage as she charged toward me. Another of Sofia’s knives—just how many did she have?— found her thigh, throwing her off balance. I met her attack head-on, ducking under her swinging arm and driving my knee into her ribs. I heard the sound of bones cracking.

Through it all, I could feel Ryan’s attention on me—not suffocating now, but watchful, coordinated. We moved together, fought together, protecting each other while letting each other fight. This was how it should be. Not him shielding me, but us working as one.

To my left I saw Lark, creeping up behind Artie, who was still cursing and clutching his bleeding hand. He turned at the last second and saw her. Artie braced himself, but Lark had learned. Instead of going for a direct attack, she feinted left, then ducked right, her teeth catching his ankle. He stumbled, trying to shake her off.

“You little—“ he snarled, but his words cut off as Maxwell appeared behind him.

Maxwell’s fist connected with Artie’s jaw in a precise strike that rocked the werewolf back. As Artie staggered, Lark released his ankle and launched herself at his chest. The combination of her momentum and Maxwell’s punch sent Artie sprawling into the snow. Before he could recover, Lark was on him, her teeth at his throat, a low growl rumbling from her small frame.

I turned to see that the Knox Pack members who could still move were retreating, dragging their unconscious Packmates with them. One witch lay crumpled at the base of the tree where Ryan had thrown her, and the other was pinned beneath Sam’s wolf, bleeding heavily.

Gabrielle staggered backward, clutching her broken ribs. Her eyes darted between her fallen Pack members, the witches, and us. The calculation on her face was clear—they had lost badly, and now she was weighing her options.

“It’s over,” I said, my voice carrying across the blood-stained snow. “Surrender now.”

As one, Ryan, Mason, Derek, Sam, and Maxwell turned to stare at Gabrielle. A low rumble came from Ryan’s throat. He wanted her to say no, wanted the chance to get revenge for all the Knox Pack had done. Derek and Sam stalked forward, their eyes locked on their prey. Gabrielle wasn’t stupid. Her shoulders slumped as she held out her hands.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “We surrender.”

I nodded to Derek and Mason, who moved to secure the prisoners. As they did, I felt Ryan behind me, his massive form radiating heat in the cold night air. Through our bond, I could feel his pride, his relief, and his love washing over me.

Behind us, Wally’s voice rang out cheerfully, “So, who wants hot chocolate? I don’t know about you, but I find there is nothing like a post-battle sugar rush!”