Page 55 of Meat

There was no way he would ever share his mate with this fucker. He should kill the bastard just for suggesting it.

“We share property,” Krogg said from behind, somehow keeping his voice cool and level. “This is different. The woman is a living being. You need to back off, Varag.”

“A pet?” Varag sneered.

“Rot you!” Jale roared.

He felt a hand on his shoulder holding him at bay. It was Krogg’s.

“I’m telling you, Varag.” Krogg’s voice was a whisper now, but it was edged with menace, sharp as a knife and hard as stone. “You need to back off while you still can.”

Varag craned his neck to see beyond Jale’s shielding body. He peered at Alyx, squinted evilly.

“No. I won’t back down,” the scarred ukkur hissed. “I challenge you for the pet.”

He spit on the ground between them.

Jale was ready to spring forward, knife in hand, and decapitate the bastard, but Krogg’s heavy hand on his shoulder held him tightly.

“Easy, lad,” Krogg grumbled. “I’m in charge here. I’ll take care of this one.”

Jale whirled around to face him.

“Let me do it,” he hissed. “Let me kill this bastard.”

The bearded ukkur shook his head. “It’s my responsibility, boy.”

“Krogg, I can do this,” Jale said. “You know I’m the best with a knife. I’ll cut this asshole to ribbons.”

Krogg thought for a moment, then grunted.

“Very well then, Jale. He’s yours.”

Jale grinned savagely. He looked briefly at his mate. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion. He wanted to tell her everything was okay, but there was no time. A berserker rage was welling inside him, and he needed to unleash it on his enemy. Jale whirled to face Varag. He drew his stone knife and brandished it.

“All right, you rotted bastard, let’s get this over with.”

Varag scoffed, arms still folded in front of his chest.

“What’s the matter, Krogg?” Varag said over Jale’s shoulder. “Too scared to fight, so you’re sending a boy to die in your place?”

“I wouldn’t send him if I doubted the outcome,” Krogg answered.

Jale felt a prickle of anger at Krogg’s comment. It implied he was only letting Jale fight because Varag was a weak enemy. But at the same time, Jale understood what the older ukkur was doing. His insult was intended to get under Varag’s skin too, and it had done just that. It would make the scarred bastard become blinded with rage, cloud his judgement, trip him up.

“So be it,” Varag snapped. “I’ll kill this boy and then I’ll take your wummum while you watch.”

He drew his own knife with an absurdly theatrical flourish that did not impress Jale at all.

Now the loose circle fell back, making room for the duelists. Mutters ran through the crowd in waves as the ukkur predicted the outcome. Alyx’s tiny voice was there too, protesting, but Krogg and Ravnar pulled her back, out of harm’s way.

Varag circled. He skinned his fangs in a snarl.

Jale ignored the taunt. His vision focused on his enemy, watching his hips. That’s where the first signs of an attack would appear. Jale steadied his breath. He contained his rage, molding it into a ball of energy inside his chest.

When the time was right, when Varag let his guard slip. Jale would channel that anger and hatred through the point of his blade.

Around they went, circling slowly, feet trampling the grass.