Spots of white flash before my eyes as the dampener does its best to reel me in. But it’s no use.
“Say it!” I shout over the blare of the music. “I dare you. I fucking dare you!”
Deacon shakes his head, muttering through his splintered teeth. But my ears are ringing, so I don’t know what he’s saying. Nor do I give a fuck.
My hands come around his throat, squeezing until his lips turn blue.
Legally, I cannot kill him. Not here. Not off pack grounds. But the challenge rules still apply.
“Dame!” I bark.
In a second, he’s at my side, helping me to turn Deacon over, and planting his foot on the back of his neck. He crouches down, replacing the pressure with his hands, and he reads my intention in a single glance.
The best thing about being bonded since we were six? We stopped needing words a long time ago.
Using his knee to pin him down, Dame ropes Deacon’s arms behind his back while I fist the base of his tail in my grip.
Deacon thrashes as he realizes what’s about to happen, but there’s not much room for escape as I press my boot into his back for more leverage. He shouts incoherent apologies, but it’s too late.
I stand twisting and yanking upward in one swift motion, and his tail separates from his body with a sickening snap, smothered by the sound of Deacon’s screams.
Elliot.
Dred’s voice interrupts my bloodlust, and I glance up to see him watching Iris in the distance.
Your girl doesn’t look good, he says.
He’s right. She doesn’t.
In the corner, wedged between an orc and a goblin, is “my girl,” dancing beneath the strobing lights like her life depends on it. I can see the hunger in her eyes from here, smell it lingering in the air, and I don’t know whether it’s exhaustion or relief, but I’ve had enough.
I stand, dropping Deacon’s bloodied tail beside him.
He’s gone still, in shock from the pain, and Dame nods.
“Go, get Iris. I’ll handle it.”
I make my way onto the dance floor, shouldering past the other weres and the wendigos crowding around a drunken Iris.
The orc is standing much too close to her, and the goblin is eyeing her hungrily as she moves to the beat. I shove them aside, not caring when they spew muttered curses in my direction. They’d be stupid to challenge me here. They’re both too slow to be of any advantage in an enclosed space. And wolves do not take it lightly when one of their own is challenged. Any others present would happily assist me. So they both settle for grumbling quietly as I place myself between them and Iris.
“It’s time to go, princess,” I shout over the music.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she declares, flipping her hair back and forth.
“Why is that?”
“My boyfriend gets very jealous,” she says. “He will kill you.”
For a moment, I think she’s had too much to drink. But then she bends over to shake her ass in my face, and I know she knows it’s me.
She’s been bold tonight, but not that bold. And I know torture when I see it.
She makes a show of it. Winding her hips and swaying from side to side. I take a moment to enjoy the view she offers before her skirt flutters, and I step in close, shielding her bare bottom from any onlookers. She chuckles, teasing me further, as my arms drape around her.
“Alright, that’s enough,” I tell her, pulling her into an upright position.
She spins on me, rage in her usually soft brown eyes.
