The bond flickered.
Just for a second. Just long enough for the warmth to drain away, leaving nothing but cold, empty silence.
I stopped breathing.
The world narrowed to a single point. Daska in the centre of the ring, blood soaking the ground beneath him barely invisible under the wolves.
No.
The bond was gone. I couldn't feel him. Couldn't feel anything but the hollow, aching void where he should have been, and Iknew, I knew he was dead, or dying, or so close to it that the bond had already started to break.
"Daska!"
I didn't know if I screamed it or sobbed it or just thought it, but the sound tore out of me, raw and desperate, and Dev's grip loosened just enough for me to lurch forward.
I didn't make it two steps before the bondroaredback.
It hit me like a shockwave, hot and fierce andfurious, and I gasped, my knees giving out as the warmth flooded back in, stronger than before. Not dying. Not gone.
Alive.
Daska moved.
Karik's jaws were still locked around his throat, but Daska's massive paw came up and caught the black wolf's skull. I watched as his claws sank in, deep enough to draw blood, and then he tore Karik off him. Karik flew backward, hitting the ground hard, but staggering back to his feet with a growl. The other wolf tried to hang on, teeth still buried in his shoulder, but Daska reached around with claws the length of daggers and tore it free. He dragged it beneath him, pinning him with his back paws and then with his front paws, he grabbed its head and crushed it against the ground. The sound made my stomach turn, but I couldn’t look away.
Daska was on his feet.
Not standing.Rising. His body coiled, his head lifting, and the roar that came from his was primal and resonant, shakingthe ground beneath us. Blood poured from the wounds on his throat, his shoulder, his side—so much blood I didn't understand how he was still standing. But he was. He was on his feet, swaying slightly, his breath coming in ragged huffs that I felt echo in my own chest through the bond.
Karik circled back around. His lips pulled back from bloodied teeth, and for the first time since the fight began, I saw something that looked like fear flicker across his face. He'd expected Daska to stay down. Expected this to be over.
It wasn't.
Daska advanced on him slowly, each step deliberate, his massive head lowered, his eyes locked on Karik with an intensity that made my breath catch. The bond thrummed between us, hot and fierce, and I could feel his rage, his determination, the absolute certainty that he was going to end this.
Karik backed up a step. His eyes slid sideways to me, and I met them unflinchingly. I wasn’t afraid anymore. He snarled, turning back and leaping at Daska, but this time Daska wasn’t distracted. He caught Karik by the throat and the hindleg, and slammed him into the ground. Karik struggled, but Daska reached down, gripping Karik’s throat with his paw, claws like knives ready to tear into his flesh.
For a moment, the world went still.
Karik's eyes were wide, his breathing ragged, and Daska's hand tightened just enough to make him whine. I could feel the pull of it through the bond. The desire to finish it, to tear Karik's throat out and end the threat permanently. My hands clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms, and I didn't know if I wanted him to do it or not.
Kill him. He tried to take you. He hurt Daska. He deserves to die.
But if Daska killed him, there would be consequences. Blood feuds. Retaliation. More violence spiraling out from this moment like ripples on water.
Through the haze of adrenaline and pain bleeding through the bond, I felt something shift in Daska's awareness.
Rivik stepped forward.
“Daska.”
Daska looked up, his eyes meeting Rivik’s. Rivik didn’t say anything else, he just looked at him, then gave the slightest shake of his head.
My breath caught.
Is he telling him to kill Karik? Or…
The silence stretched. Daska's hand stayed where it was, and Karik's claws scrabbling uselessly at Daska's massive paw. Daska's claws trembled against Karik's throat. I felt the war inside him. The bear screaming for blood, for vengeance, for the satisfaction of ending the wolf who'd tried to take his mate. And underneath it, quieter but no less powerful, the man who understood consequences. Who trusted his alpha. Who knew that killing Karik here would mean war.
