Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Ember

“ P lease save him,” the small boy says, blinking huge blue eyes. “The alpha won’t spare him again.”

My glowing eyes move back to the alpha who’s beating the hell out of one of his wolves. I have no clue what the guy’s transgression is.

It’s not even my business .

Technically speaking, I shouldn’t be here, period. My family will be so pissed if I get myself into something I can’t control.

“There’s no way he’ll hurt a female wolf,” the kid hisses, yanking on my T-shirt. Damn, when did he get so close? “Please, just distract him or something.”

Oh God, is that his dad in the ring with the alpha?

No child should have to watch their parent die.

“Shit,” I whisper, my head falling back to look at the night sky.

I can’t stand by and do nothing.

The previous alpha tormented my mom when she was helpless to defend herself. She’s basically the sweetest, softest woman. Even being turned into a vampire couldn’t change who she is at her core.

I really hate bullies.

My family never hid the turmoil my uncle and biological father caused in her life. She raised me while working her butt off to provide for us both, and they used their henchman to extort money from her so that she could never truly get away.

It seems to be an awful side effect of power. When someone has too much of it, they lose the ability to tell when to stop.

They abuse the position.

“Please?” the kid says again, searching my face. I can tell the second he realizes I’m an alpha because his eyes dart away from the dominance in my gaze. “Whoa, you’re an alpha. You can definitely stop him…no one else is gonna help.”

My stomach rolls as I try to think of any way to end the fight without getting involved.

It doesn’t seem likely.

“Fine,” I say, my voice lined with my wolf. “But turn around and make sure my clothes don’t end up covered in dirt.”

Wolves and other shifters are used to nudity, but growing up in a sanctuary city, things were different for me. I’m not uncomfortable being naked, but I’m never going to be as comfortable as other shifters seem to be.

I chuck my jacket at the kid.

He catches it and turns around.

Stripping out of my tank top and shorts, I ball them up and throw them over my shoulder.

I don’t often bother with underclothes, because they end up destroyed when I shift. Kicking off my boots as I jog, I transform mid-step.

I shake out my fur as my paws hit the earth with a light thunk .

My instincts pull me forward, and I move until I can see what’s happening in the ring.

The alpha is tormenting his prey.

My wolf doesn’t like that at all.

Alphas almost never fight, outside of a challenge. Maybe if they’re purposely trying to teach someone a lesson, but even then, they typically use their enforcers.

Why didn’t I ask the kid exactly what this is ? It’s a fleeting thought as the alpha takes a chunk out of the smaller wolf’s shoulder.

My wolf fights me for control.

She wants to get closer.

I concede, and we make it to the edge of the circle, sliding between onlookers.

A low, vibrating growl escapes our chest, and it’s her doing.

The crowd makes various sounds of confusion and shock as they twist to see what’s happening.

There are a surprising number of females around, but statistically speaking, some of them must be human or other supernatural species. With the shortage of female shifters, it’s common enough for male wolves to take human females as mates.

The injured wolf retreats to the edge of the circle. He must be giving himself the chance to heal.

The alpha’s eyes meet mine as he prowls closer.

A shiver of unease slips through my consciousness as he walks past several of the wolves in human form. He’s massive. His back is taller than some of the men’s shoulders.

My wolf doesn’t share my concern.

She doesn’t like that he won’t blink.

It doesn’t matter how big or how dominant he thinks he is.

The North American Pack is our birthright .

Not that I’ve ever been particularly concerned with claiming it before, but that’s irrelevant.

This jerk thinks he’s going to intimidate my wolf simply because he’s male and larger, but that’s never frightened her before.

She paces, growling as she begins to take over fully. Soon, I’ll be a passenger as she controls our thoughts and actions.

The alpha doesn’t heed her warning.

He zigs and zags as he moves.

That might set a beta challenger on edge, but I’ve had all-out brawls with my brother Dash and his biological father, Dread.

Hellhounds are scarier than this dick could ever dream of being. Their hellfire burns through anything it touches when they want it to. It zips over their skin in beast form, crackling like lightning. They’re always careful not to push things too far, but they’ve used it on occasion when my wolf wouldn’t back down.

This wolf might be physically larger than me by at least sixty or seventy pounds, but that means nothing.

The wolfish part of my consciousness makes the choice for us, stepping inside the circle that indicates we’re joining this little challenge.

The alpha looks at me and back at his original opponent. He gives a dismissive huff before spinning around and loping toward the injured wolf.

The alpha’s gray fur bristles as he snarls and attacks.

It’s a weak move.

My wolf growls, showing our disdain. She doesn’t hesitate to lope across the grass and attack.

The injured wolf takes the distraction, limping away as the alpha focuses on my wolf instead. She meets him in the air and our paws clash. His upper body strength is more considerable than hers.

Her left shoulder hits the ground hard as he rolls us. He nips at her throat but quickly backs away, snarling his warning to stay down.

See, there’s the problem.

Female wolves are rare, and there’s no way he’s missed my wolf’s scent.

This asshole is unlikely to genuinely try to hurt a she-wolf.

I’m not going to give him the same courtesy, my wolf snarls.

Dash might be the brother more likely to go for my throat, since it’s pure instinct with shifters, but he’s also a giant softy when it comes to hurting women.

Will the same tricks that work on Dash work on the alpha? It couldn’t hurt to try.

My wolf grunts her disgust as I demand we tuck our tail. She’s barely gotten started in this battle, and she’s not happy with me.

Based on experience, we can fight for close to an hour without feeling any exhaustion. I owe my little brothers a thank you for being such violent jerks.

I’m sure it’s safe to say this alpha hasn’t been in a true fight in ages. His body mass in wolf form proves that. Yeah, he’s stacked in thick muscles, but that’s not necessarily the way to win.

There’s something to be said for speed and agility.

The other wolf snarls, drawing the alpha’s attention.

I’m not an expert in wolf traditions, but I’m pretty sure that, since I jumped in, I’m now the challenger, not him.

The alpha doesn’t care. His muscular body swivels, lunging with every ounce of strength his strong haunches can offer.

The two wolves meet in the air, the sound of gnashing teeth making me cringe as their bodies collide.

The crowd gasps as the alpha grabs the other wolf by the nape, ripping into his fur.

My wolf paces back and forth, studying our adversary and making a plan.

No beta should ever challenge an alpha.

It’s an unfair fight.

My wolf is done fucking around.

Her hackles rise as we prowl toward the alpha. He’s snarling at the downed wolf and drooling all over him.

She appraises his size as we move. He can’t be any larger than Dread, meaning we can finish this if we’re smart.

Prior planning is not one of my greatest gifts.

If people were awarded actual gold stars for doing stupid shit…

I’d have a bunch.

I’ve always been excellent at making impulsive decisions, which my family says comes from my alpha blood.

So, it might be dangerous to let her take the lead here, but the nearing full moon also lends her extra power.

My wolf pushes off with her back legs, landing between the alpha and his victim. The alpha tilts his head as she growls another warning. He rises up on his hind legs, using his considerable body mass to roll her again.

This time, she’s prepared for it.

My wolf whines her contrition as she wiggles under him.

He immediately snaps at her jaw.

Once he pulls back, she rolls with every bit of her might.

The wolf doesn’t end up on his back, but he’s on his side as she viciously gouges her teeth into his throat.

I’m not fond of the feeling as warm blood fills her mouth, but she relishes in it.

The alpha isn’t giving up without a fight. He slams his paws into her sternum, trying to push with enough force to send us flying. He’s eventually successful, but she clamps down as she’s pushed away.

It’s a deep and violent injury, way more severe than what I would intentionally cause if I were in control.

The alpha hits his feet, and dark red blood pours down his gray fur. He lopes off, and I think he’s going to attack from behind, but he moves for the injured wolf.

My wolf spins, trailing only steps behind him. She’s smaller and more agile. She makes the turn, cutting him off, and her patience is officially gone. She snaps at his shoulder, ripping into his fur with her fierce teeth.

His head flies toward her back, and he takes a chunk from her side.

The haze of battle takes over, and my wolf refuses to give me any input.

She snarls and snaps, fighting like this has life-or-death consequences.

It’s a dramatic overreaction.

She’s a coveted female. He would never actually go for a killing blow. She doesn’t agree. She forces her way completely into the driver’s seat.

My vision, even through her eyes, gets blurry, and that’s the last coherent thought I have.