Freya stood with her hands still glowing green, Kieran a wall of muscle at her side. Callum and Cora positioned themselves protectively near the Griddle and Grind's entrance. Emmett had shifted back to human, his gray-blue eyes hard as he assessed their fighters against Hector's forces.
They were outnumbered. Wounded. Exhausted.
But not beaten.
Maeve's head lifted, her spine straightening despite the blood and bruises marking her skin. When she spoke, her voice rang clear and unbreakable across the destroyed square.
"Here's my counter offer." She stepped away from Dante, moving into the open space between Hector's forces and her own. "Single combat. You and me. Winner takes the Cross line and all claims to Hollow Oak's lion pride. Loser leaves and never returns."
Hector's eyebrows rose. "You're challenging me?"
"I'm ending this." Maeve let the cloak fall, her naked body marked with scars and strength, the mate mark on her collarbone glowing faintly gold. "Right here. Right now. Unless you're afraid a female can't hold her own?"
The insult landed perfectly. Dante saw Hector's expression flicker, saw the trap close even as pride demanded he spring it.
"Accepted." Hector began stripping off his expensive coat. "When you lose, I want that pathetic tavern reduced to kindling."
"When you lose." Maeve's smile turned feral. "I want your pride scattered to the winds and your name stricken from Hollow Oak's records."
They faced each other across blood-stained snow, two lions about to tear each other apart while the town watched. The lanterns had stopped swaying. The enchanted fireflies had gone dark. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Dante wanted to protest, to stand beside her, to share this fight the way they'd shared everything else. But he understood this was hers to claim. Her town. Her title. Her choice to defend them both.
So he did the hardest thing he'd ever done and stepped back, joining the circle of witnesses forming around the combatants.
Maeve glanced at him once. He sent everything he felt in that look: pride, love, absolute faith in her ability to end this.
She nodded and shifted.
Golden fur rippled across her body as bones reformed, smaller than Hector would be but infinitely more dangerous. Her lioness emerged fully, dark gold eyes fixed on her opponent with predatory focus.
Hector shifted too, massive and imposing, his lion easily fifty pounds heavier than hers. He circled slowly, testing her defenses, looking for weakness.
He wouldn't find any.
Dante's wounds burned. His back screamed. Blood loss made his vision waver at the edges. But he forced himself to stay upright, to witness, to be ready if Hector cheated.
The two lions stared at each other across ten feet of snow and history and pride.
Then Hector lunged, and the real battle began.
37
MAEVE
Hector's weight slammed into her like a battering ram.
Maeve rolled with the impact, claws finding purchase in snow and frozen earth as she twisted beneath him. His jaws snapped where her throat had been a heartbeat before. She brought her back legs up, kicking hard into his exposed belly, using his momentum against him.
He flew backward with a roar of rage.
She was on her feet instantly, circling, her lioness calculating angles and weaknesses with predatory precision. Hector was bigger, heavier, but she was faster. Always had been. She'd spent years learning to use that advantage, to turn size into a liability.
He charged again, all brute force and alpha arrogance. She waited until the last possible second, then darted left. His claws raked air. Hers found his shoulder, tearing through muscle.
First blood. Hers.
The crowd's collective intake of breath was audible even over Hector's snarl. He spun to face her, amber eyes blazing with fury and something that looked like genuine surprise.
