We stalk each other. His breathing is labored now, his movements slower. But he’s not done. Not yet.
He feints left, and I fall for it. His jaws close around my back leg, and I hear a bone crack. Blistering agony shoots through me, and for a second, my vision goes dark.
No. I can’t lose. Not now. Not when Violet is counting on me.
I twist in his grip, ignoring the pain, and go for his face. My claws catch his eye, and he releases me with a yelp. I land badly on my broken leg, pain shooting through the limb, but I force myself to stay upright.
I shift back to human form in the middle of the fight.
Alaric, still in wolf form, hesitates. He’s confused by the unexpected nature of the move. It’s all I need.
I grab his jaw with both hands, my muscles straining, focusing all my strength on this one moment. He thrashes, trying to break free, but I hold on. My broken leg threatens to buckle, the agony nearly blinding me, but I lock my knees, refusing to fall.
With a roar that comes from somewhere deep inside me, I force his head to the side. There’s a terrible snapping sound, loud and final, that fills the otherwise silent arena.
Alaric’s body goes limp.
I release him, and he collapses to the stone floor, shifting back to human form as life leaves him. He lies there, naked and broken, his neck twisted at an impossible angle. His eyes stare at nothing. His chest doesn’t move.
Dead.
The man who raised me. The man who taught me everything. The monster who destroyed countless lives to protect his son.
Dead by my hand.
I shift back to wolf form, ignoring the pain in my leg, and throw my head back. The howl that tears from my throat is victory and grief and rage all rolled into one. It’s the sound of a new alpha claiming his place, of an old order dying.
The pack responds. Hundreds of voices join mine, achorus that shakes the very foundations of the arena. They’re not mourning Alaric. They’re acknowledging their new alpha.
I shift back to human form. Blood covers my body, dripping from dozens of wounds. I turn my head, looking for Violet.
She is on her knees again, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock.
I cross the distance between us, limping heavily on my broken leg, and go down on my good knee in front of her. Not touching. Just close enough that she knows I’m here.
“Are you alright?”
She nods mutely.
“Get me a healer!” I call out as I help her to her feet.
I squeeze her hands before leaving her there to run over to the edge of the crowd, where Anne is approaching me with a pair of pants. I tug them on quickly and turn toward Violet again. She’s rubbing her wrists, but she looks okay. I feel relieved.
Still quite a distance away, I call out to her. “Violet, I—”
My sentence cuts off when I see her eyes move to something behind me. The terror that flashes across her face is visceral. Before I can ask what’s wrong, she shouts, “Get down!”
“What?”
I’m slow to react. That is my mistake. I turn around to see what she’s looking at, but then I hear a familiar snap: the sound of bones breaking and reforming. My head whips back to where Violet was, but all I see is a grayish black wolf running towards me. The wolf shoves me down under her with every bit of her strength.
I haven’t even hit the ground when I hear the deafening crack of a gunshot.
The wolf is small and frail, and when the bullet pierces her, she jerks back slightly before slumping on top of me. For a moment, one brief heartbeat, I don’t understand what just happened. And then, I smell her blood.
The weight of the thin wolf vanishes from on top of me and is replaced by something lighter: a naked woman. My Violet. Unmoving, unconscious, her blood gushing out onto my chest. A roar of denial tears from my lips as I sit up, pulling her towards me.
I crane my neck around, still cradling her against my chest.
