The Wolf Queen (The Queen's Slave, Book 2)

Twenty Seven: Silence

"The thing is, I never see my characters as psychopaths. I see them as really crippled victims who just happen to do bad things. And I never see them as bad guys; I see them as darker characters. I never see anything as good or bad; it's more light or dark, and the in-between is the grey."

-Michael Eklund

Fight for You By: Jason Derulo

The smack of flesh hitting flesh rebounded off of the walls in an almost deafening echo of sound. I winced as the lanky brindle-haired boy hit the ground, his right eye swelling rapidly and the skin over his left kidney had already begun to turn purple. He couldn't be older than seventeen and his fighting "technique" if you could even call it that, definitely showed his age. The crowd held their breath as he slowly rose to his feet, retreating to the other side of the space, watching Elizabeth warily, his fingers flexing on the staff he held. Blood was everywhere, staining the stone floor and clinging to the air.

"That'll teach him to underestimate her again." I snorted and leaned into Emilee, my lips brushing her ear.

She coughed to cover her laugh, elbowing me in the side and shooting me a glare when Owen shushed us. I bared my teeth silently back at him but kept my mouth shut and focused on the fight. My body hummed with awareness as Elizabeth flexed her fingers and grinned, not a hint of black in her eyes. It was unusual to see her so in control of herself, given that I usually only saw that part of her when she was threatening someone on my behalf. I sucked in a deep breath when the boy became a blur, side-swiping her kick but missing the lethal punch she'd landed on his jaw. I was suddenly glad no paranormal strength was allowed in this fight, because had she used even a fraction of her full strength, his face would've surely shattered into a million tiny pieces.

The boy hit the ground a second time and didn't get up, completely knocked unconscious, blood pouring from his broken face. Heat pooled into my core at the fire in my mate's eyes along with the lazy, confident grin she wore. I couldn't help that the woman was damn near irresistible, but I'd rather not fantasize about it here, deep into a sea of inmate males. I shifted from foot to foot, coughing in embarrassment. As they drug the unconscious wolf off the stage and towards the infirmary, I surveyed the next contender. I didn't know him, but he was handsome enough with his brawny build and sandy hair.

My brows rose into my hairline when he abandoned protocol and strode over to me, kneeling at my feet, his hair falling into his brown eyes. I straightened and clasped my hands behind my back. "My name is Adrian, of the Pennsylvania Pack. It is an honor to fight for the position of your mate my lady," his lips spread in a dimpled smile as he slowly ran his gaze over my form and behind him I could hear Elizabeth snarl.

"May the best wolf win." I winced on behalf of the brutal injuries he was sure to suffer at her hands and offered him a stoic nod.

My jaw tightened as he rose to his feet and swiftly moved into position, his staff at his side. I was glad Elizabeth had locked her mind down because the second the fight started, my fingers crept to the amulet in between my breasts, feeling Camille's mental presence immediately. Her whispered words of encouragement along with her presence at my back helped to center me and gave me the courage to watch. Elizabeth moved before he'd taken his last step, dropping to the ground and delivering a brutal kick to his left knee. To my surprise Adrian barely danced out of her way, the butt of his staff hitting her square in the jaw.