“Is this all Call-ee-sto’s will?” Zack asks, sneering at me.
“No!” I snap back. I launch forward, striking hard. Zack blocks my punch easily, but I throw myself in and grab his waist, twisting and heaving the heavier alpha over my hip.
Zack huffs in surprise, but the moment he hits the ground, he rolls to his feet. The bored look in his eyes disappears. “Ohm-ee-ga needs strong alphas,” he mutters, circling me again.
“She has strong alphas,” I hiss, flexing my hands once. “You’ll see.”
I lunge, aiming to get inside his guard. Zack spins, and even though I see it coming, my inertia carries me right into his kick. The sky spins overhead as I soar across the grass.
It seems to take forever before I connect with earth. I roll roughly, years of muscle memory helping me to slap the ground and move with the momentum. I brace my weight up on my hands, gasping for breath and stinging all over. A kick like that could’ve splintered my ribs with a little more force.
I growl, a battle haze slowly closing around me. This alpha stands between me and my pack; I won’t go down.
“Enough?” Zack asks.
“Never,” I say, rising to my feet. “Not until you accept me.”
He shakes his head. “Not enough. Not sense Cal-ee’s heart.”
My heart? I sealed that away when my father died, but look where it got me? A packless workaholic. Well, at least that life taught me one thing; I’m not a man who gives up.
A darkness surges through me, and I straighten. “You’ll have to kill me before I’ve had enough,” I tell him, clenching my fists tight.
He assesses me, blue eyes hard. “Ri-ckon say not kill; but I will always defend my pack from threats.” He moves so fast, it’s like he’s made of wind. Zack’s fists descend, pounding into my flesh from all directions.
I step back and back, desperate for distance. My arm muscles scream from the effort of blocking his iron fists, and that’s even after a few weeks of conditioning in the gym. He’s a monster. Nothing like the one I fought who was acting.
“Give up,” he hisses, breath finally sounding rough.
“No,” I spit back.
His knee lands in my abdomen, dangerously close to my liver. I hunch inwards in defense. His aura flares as violently as his hands, warning me with every lungful of his scent that he means business.
I could die here today.
Primal instinct consumes me, and I lash out with both hands. I catch him around the torso, and we grapple, fighting for position. But even when I secure a hold, he’s so solid I can’t seem to rock his foundation. Growls pour out of me, so fierce an inner part of myself can’t believe I’m capable of such animalistic noise.
A flock of jays flee the trees, shrieking a warning.
Zack huffs and shoves, his raw strength threatening to pitch me way off balance.
I jerk backwards and slam into the pool fence. Zack surges in with a roar and lashes out. With immense effort, I grip the top railing and hoist myself over the fencing, landing on the sandstone slabs beyond. The fence rattles as Zack crashes into it, fists first. His knuckles come away bloody.
I stand for a moment, panting, but Zack doesn’t give me time to catch my breath. He sizes up the fence and launches over it,graceful as a cat. The blood on his knuckles gives me little joy; he’s not gasping for breath as I am.
My nerves quiver, like the onset of a panic attack, but I hold my ground. The desperation in my heart and my alpha rage mingle, tightening until my senses feel sharp as razors. Zack’s steps, the distance between us, the thumps of his footsteps on the pavers that echo my heart, the whistle of our breaths—all a soundtrack to a stubbornness that won’t ever let me quit.
No matter the pain.
No matter my alpha senses screaming with warning.
I won’t turn my back on Red a second time. Nor on my best friend. And not on the feral alpha who needs me as much as he needs them.
Zack reaches striking range. I pitch forward. Two steps, a pivot, and my leg unfurls like a black sail in the wind. Right into Zack’s chest.
The force pushes him back.
His eyes widen as he stumbles, and his foot meets open air. With a heavy splash, he crashes into the sparkling swimming pool, a trail of blood diffusing off his hands. I lean on my knees and pant as he flails, bouncing off the bottom of the pool and gasping for breath.
