"I'll murder you!" Warren screamed. He was slowing down now, Killian noticed, as he charged towards him. Then Killian saw it — the weakness in his left hind leg. He had only a fraction of a moment to digest the fact that Warren had a weak limp before the white and red wolf swiped at him with a huge paw. Killian grunted as the strike took him off his feet. He sprawled across the clearing.
"Killian!" Scout cried.
At the sound of his mate's voice, Killian forced himself to his feet. That's who he was fighting for, he reminded himself. His family was counting on him. The fire blazed brighterin Killian, who stood staunchly in Warren's path.
Amy gasped. "What is he doing!?"
"Killian, move!"
"He's gonna get himself killed!"
Killian couldn't hear their words. He was focused on one thing, and he only had a single chance to succeed.
Warren leapt, fangs and claws out.
Killian waited until the last possible moment, then he ducked underneath the massive wolf. As if in slow motion, Warren's body soared above his head.
Then Killian saw his chance. As Warren's front legs hit the ground where Killian stood just a second before, his hind legs were still in the air.
Killian opened his jaws and leapt. His fangs caught the flesh of Warren's inner haunch. The white wolf let out a shrieking cry.
Killian bit down hard. He tasted blood and horrible flesh. A wave of disgust hit him, but he knew he couldn't let go. He wrenched his jaw, tearing Warren's leg and making the other wolf cry out in agony.
A blow hit Killian in the side of the face. He winced as it came again. Warren was kicking him with his free leg. Killian felt stinging claw marks on his cheek, but he didn't let that stop him. He had to focus. He had to win this fight, no matter what.
A surge of power exploded inside him. It was time to finish it. Killian bit down hard, straining his jaw and all the muscles in his neck until he hit his target — Warren's bone.
A sickening crack ripped through the air. Everyone held their breath.
Warren collapsed with a thud onto the ground. Killian finally let go. He backed away from the downed alpha, who was breathing heavily. His fur was drenched in his own blood.
Killian licked his lips.
The huge white alpha staggered to his feet, holding the leg Killian had injured off the ground. He wheezed and snapped, "This isn't over! Get back here!"
But Killian shook his head. "This fight was over a long time ago. Accept your defeat with some dignity."
The difference in power was clear to everybody who had been watching. While Warren was older and experienced, he had also grown weak and cocky. His head hung low as blood matted into his fur.
On the other hand, Killian stood tall, his fur ruffled and his face sporting a few bloody scratches, but otherwise unharmed.
Even to the Silvercreek wolves, who had been backing their leader enthusiastically, it was obvious he had been defeated. Some slowly began backing away, while a few ventured cautiously to Warren's side to help him, only to get snapped at with frothing jaws. The Whitewood pack let out a collective breath. Silvercreek was retreating. Only Thistle stayed quietly behind with an unreadable expression.
"Your pack is gone," Killian said. "You should go with them."
Warren glanced around the clearing to find all of his pack mates except one gone. This seemed to take an even bigger toll on him than losing the fight with Killian. He glared at the other pack alpha, and wordlessly turned around and slunk into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of blood.
Thistle remained behind for a moment. "You said you were going to kill him," he said to Killian. "Why didn't you?"
Killian paused. He thought of his father, dead on the ground.
"Because I'm not like Warren," he said simply.
He turned back towards his pack. Amy and Stark had already gently picked up the king's body and were waiting for his signal to leave.
Scout resumed his place by Killian's side. They didn't speak, but his mate's eyes shone with a tired pride. Scout was proud of him — and that was all he needed.
* * *
