So this was what the brothers had been doing while I was trailing along behind them at a snail’s pace—butchering recently slaughtered animals to make sure there’d been no foul play. Inside me, hope kindled. I wasn’t too late to help the younger brother after all....
Meanwhile, my mouth spat out words both deep and masculine. “No sign of weapons,” I growled.
On my left side, Edward dipped his head in a wordless nod of agreement. Immediately, three other shifters followed suit, an impartial jury facing the Atwood brothers and preventing further bloodshed from coming to pass.
Or, at least, that appeared to be our role. Liam was having none of it.
“But the bear’s head is separated,” Liam continued, pushing the words into the lungs of the male whose body I possessed no matter how hard I tried to bite my tongue against the admission. “Anything could have happened in the neck area. Stab wounds. Gunshots. It’s impossible to be certain. This isn’t a definitive wolf kill.”
Behind my back, I could feel the quiver of dozens—hundreds?—of werewolves reacting to my assertion. Some smelled interested, like spectators at a ball game. Others exuded hunger, the bear and deer apparently having become more appetizing now that they had been thoroughly skinned.
Most, though, were tense and worried. An occasional murmur broke through the constant shuffle of human and lupine bodies, suggesting that the majority of the crowd didn’t want this showdown to turn into a physical fight.
Liam on the other hand, was itching for bloodshed. I could feel his excitement quivering beside my real body, could feel his smug pleasure as he guided me up on the meeting hill. More blood meant more power for him. And wasn’t the oft-overlooked cousin, even more than the legitimate pack leader, likely to benefit from an upheaval within the hierarchy of the Atwood clan?
I didn’t think Liam was actually controlling his cousin, but Ransom was quick to jump into the presented gap. “You think that’s all you have to do, eh, brother?” he growled. “Kill a bear, throw it at my feet, steal away the clan I’ve been raised to lead since birth.” Then Ransom’s tone smoothed as he recalled his ace in the hole. “Well, I won’t let you. Gunner, I remind you of your oath.”
I held my breath, expecting that to be the end of it. But the compulsion had no effect on the younger sibling. Instead, Gunner merely shook his head before speaking. “My strongest oath is to this pack, Ransom. Again, I ask you to step down.”
So Gunner’s obedience in the past had all been stagecraft, even down to kneeling in front of his supposed pack leader in Wildacres’ mud. Which should have meant the wolf I was backing had the advantage. Unfortunately, his younger brother’s lack of obedience only enraged the weaker of the two contestants.
“You won’t accept that I lead this pack by birthright?” Ransom ground out, only to be interrupted by a succinct history lesson.
“Our father was the younger brother,” Gunner countered, “but the better shepherd of this pack.”
“Or so we’ve been led to believe.” Ransom spat, the gob of spittle barely missing his brother’s bare toes before joining the bear blood puddling atop the soil. And behind me, the werewolves on the eastern side of the knoll erupted into grumbles that seemed fated to turn into snarls.
So that was where Gunner’s supporters had gathered. I wished I was able to turn the neck of this borrowed body to make a count of how many shifters were for and how many against the younger brother....
But I could feel Liam’s hand around mine back beneath the pine trees. Could feel his fingers squeezing, pressing blood out of the pinprick while I made no motion to get away.
Not for want of trying; that part goes without saying. But I could do nothing about either my own body or the one here on the hilltop. Instead, without my permission, the latter’s feet were already beginning to move.
“Quiet,” Gunner chided his followers even as my host body slipped back behind the first row of shifters, using their bulk to shield me/him from view as we padded silently around to the right. I didn’t know where Liam was sending us, but I had a feeling it wasn’t anywhere good....
Meanwhile, Ransom seemed to have decided he was a comic-book villain. Because rather than resting upon his laurels, he continued to speak.
“Our uncle was a pushover and a cuckold,” the older brother proclaimed, the crowd quieting as the family’s dirty laundry was aired in public view. “Why do you think his wife was murdered?”
“You mean why she died,” Gunner interjected, reaching forward to grab his brother’s shoulder so hard the latter’s flesh turned red, then white. Why would Ransom want to tell this story when he was the villain? Gunner apparently felt the way I did, but the older brother was unwilling to be shut up.
“No, I mean our aunt was killed in cold blood,” Ransom countered, shrugging off his sibling’s hand and stepping forward in a werewolf display of dominance. “Our father slept with his brother’s woman. And our half-brother was the one who snuffed out her traitorous life.”
Chapter 37
“Half-brother?” Gunner asked, his voice confused and faltering. Half-brother, I echoed inside my own mind. No wonder the bitter jealousy had built up within Liam so profoundly that it brought us all to this point.
Meanwhile, beneath the pine trees, Liam quivered at the revelation of his history. And for half a second, I thought I might be able to rip myself free of his grasp.
But then something warm and moist covered my bleeding finger. Pressure came, a mouth sucked.
I nearly vomited at the knowledge that Liam had taken my digit into his mouth and was even now lapping up my magic. And at the same moment, Ransom clarified his earlier words.
“Liam killed his mother in a fit of jealous anger,” the pack leader elaborated. “Did you really think our father and aunt did the dirty in our mother’s home only once?”
As that particular bombshell hit, I lost control of the body I was sitting in entirely. Became a passive bystander as borrowed male feet carried me the rest of the way around behind the brothers until we stood only eighteen inches from the pair’s backsides.
Then I turned my head—or, rather, Liam turned it for me—noting that the few shifters here on the wrong side of the hill could see little with the moon still hidden beneath the curve of the earth’s horizon.
Even as the secrecy of our position sank in, my sword materialized in dark silence. Its hilt fit between the possessed male’s fingers as if he was as good a swordsman as I was. Meanwhile, his body shivered as I realized what Liam had brought me here to accomplish.
Gunner! I yelled...or tried to. But the body I possessed just stood stoically silent while everyone around us leaned forward, taken in by the telling of the previous generation’s tale.
“...clan or a reality TV show?” “...don’t blame him.” “...should have known better...” The whispers rose up on every side, and Ransom waited out the reaction. Perhaps the older brother had the makings of a pack leader after all.
Because it was the younger brother who spoke quietly but intently, impinging upon the whispers and adding fuel to the fire. “But you were there. The shower. The hunt. The fight with our father,” Gunner protested.
“I came to speak to Elle, found something horrible, and stayed to protect her,” Ransom growled. “Our sister would have shattered if she knew what Liam was capable of. I thought you understood that. What did you think? Did you think it was...me?”
This was their final chance for reconciliation. Before me, I could smell Gunner rewriting the past and hoisting his brother back up onto a pedestal. And Ransom—even that power-hungry shifter softened. The straight line of his shoulders slumped slightly and his aroma sweetened as the duo hovered on the brink of brotherhood once again.
But that wasn’t what Liam had brought us all together for. Instead, back beneath the pine trees, my body turned colder as the Master literally sucked up another healthy dose of my magic. Then, on the hilltop, the softness around the older brother dissipated. The chanc
e for reconciliation fled.
“I see what you think of me,” Ransom growled, mind changing in an instant. There were scratches on his shoulders, I now noted. Many of them, both healed and unhealed. As if Liam had wanted to be entirely sure his hold on the older sibling was freshly consolidated.
“Brother,” Gunner started, only to be interrupted.
“There’s no point in talking.”
“The bear,” Gunner countered. “Tradition....”
“Are you really so weak that you’re afraid of a true contest?”
Even then, Gunner tried to argue. But before he could force out another sentence, I felt my own arm rising. Saw Ransom’s body mimic the action. Felt the sword leave my fingers and turn one complete revolution before it thudded into his hand.
For his part, Gunner’s head turned not toward the threatening werewolf beside him but to look over his left shoulder. To see the source of the weapon that was now beginning to glow.
Just like the possessed male’s eyes would now be glowing. Just like my own eyes might be glowing back in that pine grove.
Because I wasn’t just a passive bystander, I gathered. Instead, I felt my training and magic merging together to guide Ransom’s fingers even as his brother mouthed my name soundlessly into the air.
“Mai...”
His disappointment was palpable. But there was no time to wallow in the alpha’s regret over my actions, because Ransom was already surging forward into an attack.
Chapter 38
The brothers were better matched than I would have expected...especially with my training coming along for the ride on Ransom’s sword. In fact, we might have ended the contest prematurely had Tank not stepped forward out of the darkness to hand the younger brother an entirely corporeal weapon that otherwise closely matched my own.
“First blood,” Gunner suggested as he hefted the weapon as easily as if it was an extension of his body. And the first clang of blades sent a jolt of electricity up my spine.
This was wrong, having my magic diverted from my body. Even worse, though, was fighting against a werewolf I’d come to accept as a member of my pack.
I had no say in the matter, however. Instead, when Ransom started falling for a feint that would have left him wide open, I felt my sword obey my thoughts rather than his muscles, slipping sideways until it once again met Gunner’s blade.
The clang was deafening. Gunner’s disappointment in me almost as audible. And, as the last sliver of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, Ransom finally deigned to speak.
“I told you this was no game, brother. We’ll fight until there is only one leader left to rule this pack.”
Rustles and murmurs from the crowd faded into stillness. I could now see nothing, my sword having muted its glow in the interest of stealth.
“Our father taught us...” Gunner countered. But then he gave in to the inevitable as his opponent pushed forward in a flurry of blows that left no time for further talk.
It was too dark to make out every thrust and parry, but I could feel the first time Ransom’s blade cut into his brother’s skin. Because the blood surged through me like a sugar rush, making Liam laugh back in the pine grove while my borrowed body on the hilltop gleefully tapped its feet.
Ransom wasn’t the only one making contact, however. The air was now redolent with freshly spilled fluids, and the rich tang of immediacy promised most of the scent came from shifters rather than deer and bear. Every second, the metallic aroma grew stronger...and that wasn’t the only danger Gunner faced.
Because I smelled the audience pressing in closer as loyal werewolves considered diving into battle in support of their respective alphas. The pack would be physically decimated if they fought each other—I knew this. Worse would be the lack of unity that would ripple outwards to take over the entirety of the clan.
“I, Mai Fairchild, swear to protect and uphold the Atwood pack to the best of my ability....” My oath reverberated in my ears, chattering the possessed male’s teeth together painfully. But there was nothing I could do to stop the carnage. Nothing except stand there in the darkness and wait out a battle I couldn’t even see.
Then, before me, a pained shriek and a thud as one of the combatants fell earthward. I strained against the bonds that held me stuck in this immobile body, needing to know who had been vanquished and what I could do to help.
“Eh, eh, eh,” Liam warned back in the pine grove. He was watching as avidly as I was, I gathered. Was waiting to see how the battle would turn out.
Meanwhile, around my borrowed body, the audience fell silent. It was almost as if only two shifters stood there rather than two hundred or more.
“It’s no loss of face to surrender, brother.” The victor’s voice rose through the air so quietly I wouldn’t have heard him if I’d been one row deeper amidst the avid watchers. But I was inches from the combatants, and I almost collapsed in relief at the gentleness of Gunner’s tone.
The battle was over and the proper brother had been triumphant. I had one millisecond to relax before Ransom refused to submit.
“Never,” the older male started. Then, louder: “To me! Kill the imposter! Attack!”
His words were terrifying in both their strength and their purpose, the alpha compulsion crackling outward across the crowd. Feet shuffled as shifters fought against an obviously inappropriate order. But werewolves were hardwired to obey their alphas, and soon I felt shifters pressing against me upon three sides.
The first was already pushing around my unmoving body in an effort to follow Ransom’s order when Gunner finally opened his mouth and spoke. “Stand down,” he said both calmly and sadly, the two words enough to freeze the entire crowd mid-stride. Then, in explanation: “Atwoods don’t fight amongst themselves. Not now, not ever.” Never mind that he and his brother had just engaged in an ill-fated battle of their own.
Immediately, the scent of embarrassed submission rose along with a burst of flashing lightning bugs, the insects so bright that for one split second they illuminated the scene. In the light, I saw Ransom kneeling, held in place by the sword poised against his jugular. Meanwhile, Gunner stood above his vanquished older brother, my magically created weapon dangling laxly from his left hand.
And as dark descended around us a second time, the audience reacted to the scene as much as to Gunner’s command. “Alpha,” some murmured. “Pack leader,” whispered others, a growl of agreement rising from those who hadn’t spoken yet.
They were pack-oriented and that should have been the last of it. The brothers had fought and the proper alpha had won.
Only Liam wasn’t ready for the battle to be over. “Now,” he murmured back in the pine grove. And, all around me, shifters lunged toward Gunner en masse.
Chapter 39
The pack was splintering as I stood by and watched it happen. Then I wasn’t watching but was instead joining in the fight...on the side that was not my own.
Because Liam had been around star balls long enough to know that I could draw the blade containing my magic back to me using pure willpower. And as the hilt snugged into the palm of the body I borrowed, my feet carried me across the intervening space and toward the male who had recently held my sword.
I felt rather than saw Ransom roll away between us. Smelled rather than saw Gunner ready himself for my attack.
Back in the pine grove, my stomach roiled with horror. I was about to strike the werewolf who had been nothing but kind to me. I was able to eviscerate my pack mate....
There on the hilltop, however, my hand remained steady. Even in darkness, I could gauge the distance between us through memory of recent sight.
I whirled to come at Gunner from an unexpected direction. Raised my star-ball sword then slashed downward where his neck ought to have been...
...Only to be halted by a flicker of starlight.
No, that was Gunner’s blade, parrying. My sword screeched like claws on a chalkboard as it ran up my opponent’s. But, at the hilt, it was fo
rced to stop.
Relief flooded me...but not for long. Because my borrowed body was already disengaging and regrouping, making my real body pant in horror as my limbs turned weak. I’d nearly broken something precious in the previous moment. And no matter how much I tensed my real muscles, the ones Liam controlled geared up to do it all over again.
“Kill him,” Liam whispered in my ear back in the pine grove.
Meanwhile: “Mai,” Gunner breathed toward me out of the dark.
Beside my real body, the Master snickered, a low harsh sound that felt like sandpaper running over my skin. The darkness was Gunner’s only real advantage...that plus the fact that he had no reason to do anything other than run away from me. But the alpha didn’t retreat. Instead, he as good as painted a target on his chest as he continued speaking.
“You don’t want to do this.” The words weren’t a question. Instead, they were warm and sweet as chamomile tea.
But, heartening or not, Gunner’s speech served to locate him in the darkness. And once again my magical sword thrust forward, this time angling to slide through my opponent’s ribcage and into his heart.
Somehow, though, Gunner managed to turn at the last instant so my blade cut through nothing. The lack of contact knocked me off balance so I faltered, misstepped, almost fell.
“Our pack.” The alpha’s whisper caught me as ably as physical hands might have. Set me back on my feet even as they filled my brain with an idea. Was he suggesting...?
“A pack is only as strong as its weakest member,” Liam interjected, speaking through me. Our shared voice was cold now. Angry. Intent upon Gunner’s death.
And just like that, my sword began glowing like a beacon. Claws scratched on hard earth behind me. A bark morphed into a growl. The magical light was attracting Gunner’s enemies. It would only be a matter of seconds before I’d feel the hot breath of werewolf hunger flowing across my skin.
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