Claws & Crochet

Part 60

WARNER

Roderick raises an arm, regaining control of the crowd.

"Ignorance does not excuse your actions," he announces. "Let this be a warning. And be thankful you face a Challenge, rather than a Trial." My brother makes a slow circle, including all gathered in his cautioning. When his gaze sweeps over me, I realize his eyes have gone full black. Their depths seem unfathomable. Cosmic. Terrifying.

Note to self, remember to never piss off a pack leader.

"The Challenge ends on a forfeit or a knockout. Shifting is prohibited. Commence." Roderick steps back, clearing the space between Ross and me.

In my day-to-day life, I tease people. Not in a malicious manner. My goal is always to make others smile. Get them to laugh. Most times I'm playful, dancing around important topics, rarely speaking in a fully serious tone.

So people don't tend to take me seriously.

Even with all the lead up to this Challenge, I can tell from the unhurried way Ross raises his arms that he still doesn't believe I can be anything different from the joker he's always known.

I hit fast.

Wide eyes take in the fist heading for his face. Maybe if Ross had expected me to fight with ruthlessness, he'd have been prepared. He would have been ready to block. Despite having the same supernatural speed as I do, he's half a second late.

The bone of his eye socket makes an impression on my knuckles as a meaty thwack echoes through the clearing.

Thing is, werewolves are good at taking hits. While my punch would've laid out a human man, Ross only gives his head a quick shake before lunging at me.

He goes low, trying to knock me off my feet. Get me on the ground, on my back. But I dig in, bending forward and pushing back. And I use the position to pound on his ribs.

As we grapple, the surrounding pack members call out encouragements and jeers and advice.

"Keep your hold on him!"

"Go for the knees!"

"That's a mean punch!"

"Rip his balls off!" Courtney's cheer rises above the rest.

Without warning, Ross releases me, shoving my body away from his violently. The sudden shift has me briefly off balance. Just enough time for him to land a blow to my gut first, then my jaw. I stumble back a step.

Roderick's warning flashes in my brain, and my arm shoots up in time to block the leaping roundhouse. If the blow had hit my skull, it would have been a knockout for sure. Instead, I'm able to grab hold of Ross's calf and use the man's momentum to fling him over my shoulder.

He hits the ground hard, but I don't let him have a moment to recover his breath. Every second counts.

"Bitch."

That's what he called her. The word pounds in my furious mind as I leap onto my packmate's chest and aim blows at his head. His arms protect his skull as best they can as frustrated snarls pour from his throat.

Bitch. Bitch. Bitch.

"If you don't keep her on a leash, I will."

"You touch her," I growl the words as I rain down on him with my fists, "I'll kill you. I swear it." The threat comes out on my adrenaline-fueled pants. My voice is low. Monstrous.

Unfortunately, speaking must've slowed me down a split second because Ross is able to snatch my wrist and wrench it to the side. In that opening, he lunges up, delivering a brain-rattling head butt.

Black spots flicker in my vision, messing me up enough for Ross to heave my weight off him.

We both end up back on our feet, fists raised, eyes wary. The tang of iron fills the air. Blood seeps out of a gash on Ross's forehead and cheek. I can feel my own spilling from a cut on my brow, threatening to blind me.

As we circle each other, I catch sight of Roderick just over my opponent's shoulder.

He meets my eyes, his mouth forming two words.

Finish it.

Of course, he knows.

I've only been playing with Ross.

Each one of my hits has been a few centimeters away from a point that could send the man into unconsciousness.

Because I didn't want him to black out.

I wanted him to hurt. To know that if he comes for Zoey, this is just a taste of what he'll get.

Still, Roderick is right. The fight needs to end.

If only so I can go be with her.

The grass is cool under my feet as I slide forward, feigning to the right. He leaps, trying for the high ground.

But I'm not afraid to go low. Dropping to the earth, I roll under his legs and rise up again behind him. Before Ross has time to land and turn, my body is already in motion.

Using his move against him, I swing my leg high, the force behind it brutal as a hammer. He turns as if we choreographed the move together, placing his jaw exactly where I planned on it being. My foot hits the perfect spot, and his body crumples.

Ragged pants push and pull from my chest, the only sound in the woods with everyone else having gone quiet.

Roderick strides up to the fallen wolf, using the toe of his boot to flip the guy over.

We can all hear the air trickling in and out of his slack mouth.

"Knock out. Warner wins the Challenge. If Ross commits the same offense again, he will stand Trial."

Everyone gathered knows what that means. If I, not even the most powerful of the Jameson brothers, took the man down this quickly, no way would he stand a chance against Roderick. A Trial would mean the wolf's death.

A few of Ross's friends come to collect him. Even though his face still pisses me off, I hope he'll take this loss with grace. Mainly because I want Zoey safe. But also because my brother shouldn't have to deal with idiots with death wishes.

But our pack hasn't had a Trial in decades. Even Ross wouldn't be arrogant enough to stumble into one.

Not after I just handed him his ass.