Chapter One Hundred and Ninety Two
“Let the fight begin!” the announcer’s voice rang out.
Derek took his time, his watchful eyes never straying from me. Most men make the mistake of underestimating me in a fight–it always gives me the upper hand. But not Derek. He saw me as an equal, the only obstacle standing between him and the power he must have dreamt of.
I walked up to the weapon stand. Guns, wolfsbane, and silver were forbidden in challenges like this–fighters had to rely on skill and strength, and not luck.
I picked up two daggers, one for each hand.
Derek’s fingers brushed over an axe, and I expected him to take it. A brutal weapon, but heavy–one that would have given me an advantage. Instead, to my surprise, he chose a sword.
The smirk on his face told me he knew exactly what I had been thinking.
We circle each other slowly; I wait for him to strike, but he doesn’t make the move, so I do.
I slashed at him with my daggers, but he blocked every strike with ease before launching his own attack. I dodged, but there was no time to savor the small victory–he was already coming at me again. For someone his size, he was shockingly fast.
I dodged once more, but not fast enough. The tip of his sword sliced through my leather, cutting into my skin.
He drew first blood.
His people roared in support. He never took his eyes off me. Now gripping his sword with both hands, he braced himself.
I attacked.
I made him think I was aiming for his chest, but at the last second, I slid beneath him, knocking him off his feet. I raised my dagger to strike, but he drove his foot into my leg, sending me crashing down beside him.
Before I could recover, he was on top of me, pinning me down. I thrust my hips forward, breaking his grip, and rolled us over, forcing him beneath me. I slashed at him, but with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved me away, sending me flying. I landed on my feet–barely. One of my daggers was gone.
Not wasting a second, I charged, slamming him hard against a tree.
With a swift thrust, I bury my dagger into his gut. “Yield,” I snarl.
But he only smirks.
I tighten my grip, ready to twist the blade, when he suddenly headbutts me. Pain explodes through my skull, and I crash onto the ground, landing hard, this time on my butt. Blood streams from my nose.
Derek yanks the dagger from his stomach and tosses it aside. My weapon is gone.
And he’s already closing in.
His sword lifts, aiming for my gut–right where I had stabbed him. At the last second, I rolled away, my d digging into the dirt. Grabbing a fistful of sand and grass, I flung it into his eyes.
The brief moment of confusion was all I needed. I swung my leg, landing a brutal kick to his face. A tooth flew from his mouth, and his sword clattered to the ground.
I lunged for it.
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Chapter One Hundred and Ninety Two
But just as my fingers brushed the hilt, searing pain tore through my back–claws ripping into my flesh.
1 let out a cry, reaching for my back. The smell of my blood filled the air.
Derek stood, his claws extended and dripping with my blood, his eyes glowing–a clear sign that his wolf was on the brink of taking over.
Abandoning the sword, I aimed a kick at him, but he anticipated it. His grip tightened around my ankle, twisting until a sickening pop rang out.
“When I take over this pack, I will take you as my whore. That’s if you surrender. I really do believe killing you is a big waste.”
I rose to my feet, careful to put most of the weight on my right uninjured leg.
“Glad you recognize my importance.” I said with a small smirk of my own.
“It’s time to end this,” he said, then leaped at me, shifting midair. His fur was a deep brownish–red. I twisted away just in time, narrowly avoiding his massive form. He landed heavily where I had just been, claws digging into the dirt as he turned to face me.
I switched into my wolf form too.
Derek paused, staring at my wolf in awe. My pure white wolf was beautiful, and I knew it, but more than that, she was strong, powerful, and fearless. Too soon, Derek snapped out of his trance. Once again, we circled each other. A low growl rumbled from him before he lunged, snapping at my neck. I clawed at him, narrowly dodging his fangs. Spotting a small opening, I sank my teeth into his back, and he let out another growl as I tore into his flesh.
Now he was really pissed. He swiped at my eyes, barely missing them. But it was enough to give him the advantage, and he didn’t waste the chance. He sank his teeth into my neck. I fought against him, but his grip was too strong. He only released me when I collapsed, drifting in and out of consciousness. I felt my body shifting back to human form–naked, covered in scars and blood.
I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t move.
It was over. I had lost. The pack was his.
