Once she recovered from the shock, she quickly grasped his thick wrists and pried his hands off from where they’d continued to rest on her hips. "Don't," she snapped at him.
It wasn't right how his touch made her heart race – how it set her skin aflame.
His nostrils flared, but Bastian allowed her to push him away. His eyes, though, remained glued to hers.
"What?" she demanded, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "You said you wanted to talk, so talk."
Bastian's brow puckered together in a frown, but he obliged. "I've decided to let you participate in the Recruiting Rites."
Katherine positively bristled at the man's chosen wording. "Let me? I hate to break it to you, Bastian, but I was planning on participating whether you decided to let me or not."
His frown deepened. "I know. And it's only because you have a stubborn streak a mile wide that I've decided to go along with it." He took a step towards her, his fingers reaching out and grasping the edge of the desk on either side of her. He leaned into her space until mere inches separated their noses.
It gave Katherine a prime view of the days old scruff covering his powerful jaw and she tried not to swallow her tongue.
"But let me tell you something." Bastian's forceful words demanded Katherine's attention, and she jerked her eyes away from his stupidly attractive – incredibly lickable – chin. As she gazed into dangerous, blue irises her wayward thoughts shriveled away. "If you get hurt attempting to compete with your peers, if you acquire even the smallest of scratches, I will rip whoever is responsible for the injury to shreds. I will clamp my goddamn teeth into fur and blood and bone and spit mangled chunks of flesh out at your feet. Now… you wouldn't want to be responsible for something like that, would you?"
Katherine thought her heart might burst from her chest it was pounding so hard.
"So if you find yourself pitted against a bigger and better opponent – and believe me, you will – you bare your goddamn neck and lay on the ground, got it?"
She was squeezing her hands so tightly into fists that she knew her nails were bound to leave deep indentations on the skin of her palms.
"Katherine, do you get me?"
Struggling to gather her thoughts, she hopped off his desk, absolutely fuming.
"Yeah, I got you," she spit the words out like bullets. "You don't have any confidence in me whatsoever."
Bastian grabbed her by the upper arm when she tried to make her escape. "Katherine, please try to understand. I’m just trying to protect you. I love you."
She scoffed, wrenching her arm away from him. "You have a funny way of showing it," she scoffed, slamming the door shut behind her.
CHAPTER THREE
The problem with Bastian's threat was that Katherine believed it.
She longed to be able to convince herself otherwise – that his promise to maim anyone who dared to lay a hand on her during the Recruiting Rites was merely a bluff – but she knew irrevocably that is was not.
And it put her in an unfortunate positon. Because the manipulative jackass was right. She didn't want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt.
What the man had underestimated, however, was the overwhelming urge Katherine had to prove herself. She couldn't shake off the feeling that the council – at least a few key members of it – thought her inadequate. Like she wasn't worthy to be in the pack, let alone the mate, of the head alpha. She wanted to show them – show everyone, especially herself – that she was a force to be reckoned with. If she didn't compete, she'd only validate the thought that she was a weak, submissive werewolf.
She couldn't let that happened. She wouldn't – even if it meant that someone got hurt.
Which was precisely why Katherine found herself squeezed between her friends Mack and Agnes on the cool evening of the moon gathering instead of with her pack. The entire graduating class – or recruits, she supposed they were considered now – stood huddled together a half mile from the other wolves at the gathering. A good chunk away from the massive dirt pit that would serve as the arena they'd be battling in.
Only Luther, the lone wolf in charge of rearing most underage bitten wolves, was with them. It was his duty to lead them to the pit as soon as the full moon reached its peak in the sky and they all changed into their superior physical forms.
Like her peers, Katherine was scarcely dressed. There was no need to waste good clothing when they were forced to change after all. A ratty, off-white tank top and a pair of non-descript, black shorts were all that shielded her from the elements, and despite her enhanced body temperature, a chill traveled down her spine when a particularly cold gust of wind blew in from the north.
Another gust caused her hair to dance and she struggled to push the unruly mess out of her face. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Mack tucked a particularly wild strand behind her ear for her.
"Thanks," she offered, but her gracious smile slipped into a frown when she noticed the subtle tremors in his hand as he brought the appendage back down to his waist.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he immediately quipped, refusing to meet her gaze.
Katherine's frown deepened. "Are you sure?" She lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Your hands are shaking."
Mack swiped one of said hands through his hair. "I'm just nervous," he admitted in a hushed tone.
Not hushed enough for Agnes's clever ears though. "And why wouldn't you be?" the girl pointed out. "We all are. This may be the single most important night of our lives. It's a chance to showcase our talents and prove our worth to the leaders of our community. How we perform tonight directly correlates with how our futures will play out. To not feel at least some nerves would be the definition of foolhardy."
Well, that little speech certainly caused the tiny butterflies flapping their wings in Katherine's stomach to multiply.
"It's not the same for you Agnes," Mack argued quietly. "Or even you, Katherine. Sure, you undoubtedly want to do well tonight, but you have packs that will gladly take you in regardless of how you perform. I... I don't have anyone like that. Either does Jon,” he gestured at the boy talking excitedly with – well, more like at – Leander a few feet away. “If I'm rejected tonight, if either of us are, we could be without a pack forever. I'm not an alpha. I'd be scorned. We both would be," Mack spared Katherine a glance, "permanent outsiders like Bastian made Melanie."
Agnes look away uncomfortably, clearly not knowing what to say to that. And truthfully, neither did Katherine. In fact, her friend's heartfelt words made her feel more than a tad guilty for taking her pack and their nearly immediate acceptance of her presence in their lives for granted. She ignored Mack's mention of the girl who used to be their friend entirely, not completely sorry for the fate that Bastian had bestowed upon her.
Spying the soft glow of the moon beginning to stretch out over the trees, the brunette quickly reached for Mack's hand, folding as much of it into her much smaller one as she could.
"Any alpha would be a fool not to immediately snatch you up, Mack. You're a fierce werewolf and an even more amazing friend." Before she could say anything else, the light of the full moon beckoned her, and its pull had her body warping into that of a wolf's.
Still not completely used to the change, it took Katherine a few moments to regain her bearings afterwards. The earthy scent of evergreen trees and freshly upturned dirt assaulted her nose, and she batted down the urge to run free through the forest as her baser instincts attempted to take over her more human inhibitions and sense of... well, sense. When she felt in control of herself, she opened her eyes. Mack and Agnes, now in their canine forms, were still on either side of her.
As soon as she felt steady on her feet – or paws rather – the recruits as a whole began to move, Luther leading them to their destination. Mack prodded her with his long snout when for a moment her legs refused to work. She quickly regained her composure, however, and let her wolf's more animalistic side take over, effectively mas
king the very human trepidation she was feeling with the anticipation her wolf was basking in.
Still, she couldn't rid herself of the nagging apprehension entirely, and fear tickled the back of her mind, attempting to penetrate her wolfish shield when they arrived at the pit a short few minutes later.
Although Katherine called the arena a pit in her mind, it was really just a natural crevasse in the ground in which grass didn't quite grow properly. It was an area reserved her fighting and the exact same spot where Bastian had fought Rogue in an alpha challenge not so long ago. Sometime before the change, someone had sprayed a white, chalk outline around the crevasse’s perimeter and the fifty by fifty foot area was where the Recruiting Rites – both the tournament and the offers that occurred afterwards – were to take place.
It was positively swarming with wolves, many of them yipping and howling excitedly in anticipation of the Rites. Katherine and her peers were corralled into a small area off to the side of the pit specially reserved for recruits.
Katherine spotted Bastian right away. She didn't know how anyone could possibly miss him. He was the large, majestic wolf – his black fur somehow darker than the night itself – standing slightly apart from the other alphas who’d gathered to watch them.
His presence soothed her fear somewhat, but nervousness still caused a nauseous feeling to roll through her belly.
A large part of her anxiety stemmed from the fact that she didn't know who she'd be fighting. Names had been drawn anonymously by Luther to determine who would be facing who in the first round of the Rites. She wouldn't know who she'd been pitted up against until she was called into the arena.
She waited with bated breath to see who'd be first. Her stomach tightened uncomfortably when Luther stalked her way, but relaxed minutely when he nudged another wolf – Katherine was fairly certainly the large, sinewy creature with dark brown fur was Vincent Vale, one of the more physically impressive werewolves her age – into the pit along with another large wolf—this one tawny with the lips of his mouth already pulled back into a snarl – whom of Katherine wasn't sure his name.
Luther left the pit once both wolves reached the center. Katherine watched – equally parts horrified and fascinated –as Bastian, who as head alpha was the ultimate authority of Haven Falls, released a piercing howl into the air, and the wolves clashed together.
The fight was on.
Claws and teeth sunk into fur and flesh, neither wolf giving an inch as their bodies continuously collided. It was a battle of sheer strength, and a winner could only be decided when one of the competitors was either forced out of the arena or submitted, giving up and baring his neck to his opponent.
The loud noise from the crowd only seemed to energize both wolves as the back and forth exchange of blows between them carried on. Eventually, the tawny wolf seemed to tire and the dark one took advantage by snapping his jaw around one of his hind legs. The tawny wolf howled in agony as the dark wolf tugged on the injured leg, pulling him towards the edge of the arena. It was hard to watch as the injured wolf dug his claws into the earth, fighting with all his might to stay in the match. But his strength had diminished greatly since the start of the fight and the dark wolf – Vincent – was able to drag his struggling form out of the arena with ease.
And with that, the first match of the Rites was over.
Two more matches were fought before Agnes was called into the pit along with an auburn-colored wolf Katherine knew to be Priscilla Wright. She didn't even try to suppress a gleeful howl when her friend easily defeated the snobby girl.
Mack was pulled in next, and Katherine was elated when despite his apparent nerves, he wiped the floor with his opponent in record time, using his superior speed and intellect to send who Katherine was fairly sure was Tommy Phelps – one of Rip Brigg’s sidekicks – stumbling out of bounds.
Jon was the next to enter the pit, and while he put on an impressive show, he ultimately lost to his opponent. Leander, too, swiftly lost to the much stronger competitor he was pitted against.
It wasn’t until Leander was limping out of the arena that a horrible realization struck Katherine.
She was the only one left who had yet to fight.
Fifteen recruits. That meant the first tier of the tournament consisted of seven matches between fourteen wolves with one automatic pass to be given to lucky wolf number fifteen.
She was number fifteen.
Somehow Katherine knew that luck had nothing to do with it.
Blood pounded in her ears as her sudden fury sent it pumping through her body at an alarming speed.
That interfering jackass.
The odds of the pass having been awarded to her through true happenstance were minimal. The odds of Bastian demanding it to be so were much higher.
She absolutely refused to look his way.
Didn't he realize how giving her this special treatment made her look? How it made her out to be some sniveling coward hiding behind her alpha?
Vomit threatened to crawl up her throat at the idea that anyone could truly think that about her.
The tournament only held half of her attention as the first match of the second round of the Rites began. Despite the fact that she had yet to compete, she was forced to watch that match and another match from the sidelines as well. Unfortunately, Agnes lost to her opponent in the second one.
It was then that Luther finally – finally! – approached her. Not quite looking her in the eye, he hesitated just briefly before gesturing for her to step forward into the arena.
It was about time.
The long wait, however, had done nothing to soothe her nerves and somehow, as her padded feet pressed into the dirt of the pit, the wolfish jeers of the crowd became even louder, echoing obnoxiously in her ears as she waited anxiously to see who her opponent would be.
The excited howls faded into the background, though, when he stepped forward. Her anger at Bastian, powerful as it was, nearly dwindled to nothing as she took in the wolfish form of her adversary.
Rip Briggs.
She couldn't have stopped her hackles from rising if she'd tried. This was who she had to fight? The behemoth of a boy who'd assaulted her a half a dozen months ago? If Katherine was a bit more self-involved, she'd almost be compelled to believe that the universe was conspiring against her.
Fear sparked within her as Rip prowled closer and she got a good look at his eyes. They positively shone with malice.
Voices that belonged to members of her pack rushed through her head as she desperately tried to think of a plan of attack.
“You're too small to blatantly take him on head-to-head. You're going to have to go on the defensive and devise some sort of strategy.” Zane.
“Your quickness may be the only advantage you have in this match up. Use it to implement a sneak attack.” Sophie.
“Look for a weakness and use it against him. Don’t be afraid to go for the throat. Play dirty if you have to.” Markus.
“Please be careful, Katherine.” Sweet, sweet Caleb.
She was so occupied with the conflicting voices that she almost didn't realize that it was taking an unusually long amount of time for the match to begin. Glancing surreptitiously at Bastian, Katherine startled at the monstrous expression that had overtaken her alpha's features. His ears were pressed flat against his head as his mouth and nose formed a truly frightening snarl. His eyes, normally a stunning blue color, were nearly completely black as they swirled with potent animosity – animosity directed solely at Rip.
For a very long moment, Katherine was afraid that not only would Bastian pull her from the Rites, but that he'd tear Rip to shreds right in front of her as well – though she certainly wouldn’t mourn the loss.
Then he met her eyes. She pleaded with him as much as she could with her emerald orbs. And slowly, almost like it physically pained him to do so, Bastian pointed his snout high into the air, and still refusing to remove his gaze from her, he howled.
Katherine didn't ha
ve time to think of Bastian after that.
Immediately, Rip was upon her. She dodged as the larger wolf attempted crash into her. He kept coming at her again and again, and she continued to evade him, her mind spinning as she desperately tried to think of a strategy. She knew that attempting to tire Rip out would be a useless endeavor – his endurance was undoubtedly more impressive than hers – but she hoped that she could find some sort of weakness in her opponent so that as her inner Markus had suggested, she could use it against him.
But Rip's finesse was impressive and there were no weaknesses to be found, at least not to Katherine's untrained eyes. And she was tiring quickly. She dodged and rolled, continuing to avoid him until finally, she was just a bit too slow.
Rip pounced on her, his teeth piercing the back of her neck directly behind her left ear as he brought her down. Despite the immediate pain that blossomed, Katherine attempted to buck him off. But the other wolf was too big, easily using his superior weight to stay on top of her, pressing her into the ground until her belly was flush against it.
She couldn't move.
Fury rushed through her veins as Rip had the audacity to release the hold his teeth had on her neck, his long tongue coming out to lick the wound he’d caused before he growled threateningly in her ear, clearly expecting her to roll over onto her back and assume a submissive pose.
Not in this lifetime.
As Katherine had been forced to endure the rough lick from Rip's disgusting tongue – Bastian was going to kill the stupid prick if she didn't move fast – she had spied his large paws on either side of her head. And abruptly realized that his right paw hadn't seemed to have completely healed from whatever Bastian had done to it months ago. In fact, it still looked fairly mangled – the skin and fur of it puckering together unnaturally and its outer most digit half missing.
A plan quickly forming in her mind, she whimpered softly, hoping Rip would take it as a sign that she was ready to submit to him. He did, lifting just enough of his weight from her so that she could turn around to face him.
Shy (Once Bitten, Twice Shy, #2) Page 3
