Moonsong (28 page)

“You have agreed to the terms, Amelie. I expect you to hold to them, as I intend to hold to my end of the bargain as well.” With that, she strode off to do whatever it was Alphas took care of at those sort of proceedings, and Scarlett replaced her at Millie’s side.

“How are you holding up, sweetie? Doing okay?” the pretty blonde asked sympathetically.

“Okay I guess, though you could have warned me about the whole fasting thing,” she nudged her with her shoulder.

“Oh right, sorry, I kinda forgot about that,” Scarlett apologized sheepishly. “Hopefully they’ll finish all of this stuff before nightfall.”

Somehow Amelia hadn’t thought it would drag on for that long, but she realized she had no idea how long it would take to hunt something down, let alone how long the race was that they had to go through. “What happens if it goes after dark?”

“Well, hopefully they’ll be done with the hunt for sure, the race would be harder in the dark for the first leg of it, but we’ll light torches around the circle for the fight if necessary.”

“What if either of the first two parts turns out to be a tie?”

“I don’t think that’s ever happened before. Not around here anyway. Even if they bring back two of the same animal, one will be judged better by its size or health or whatever, and it’s unlikely they’ll both return from the race in the exact same instant. But if that did happen, it wouldn’t change much. The fight would still be the deciding factor and a fight like that… never ends in a tie,” she pointed out gently.

Which meant one of them could very likely end up dead all because of her. “Okay, so what happens now?”

“Now… we wait.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

It took less time than she’d expected before Chase returned to the camp, staggering under the weight of a huge deer. The pack broke out into cheers, applauding as he threw down the mighty buck, enjoying the accolades as he caught his breath. Proudly swaggering up to Amelia, he gave her a broad wink. “One down, one to go.”

“You haven’t won yet, it’s not the first person to bring back an offering, it’s whoever brings back the best one.”

Chase let out an inelegant snort. “Please, have you ever seen a bigger buck than that before? Face it, Millie, the Gods are definitely with me today. They want me to win; I can feel it in my bones. Soon you’ll feel it too.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.” Cutter’s voice rang out across the clearing as he leaned against a great redwood. Covered in sweat and blood, Amelia instantly wondered how much of that was his own; he looked tired but oddly confident.

“You came back empty handed?” Chase snorted derisively. “You have some nerve showing your face around here.” A murmur swept across the crowd, echoing their agreement.

“Empty handed? Not quite,” Cutter grinned, stepping back among the trees; he dragged the huge carcass of a black bear behind him, its throat viciously torn out. A different kind of murmur swept through the pack that time, and another resounding cheer rang out. Dragging the animal across the clearing, he set it beside the deer Chase brought down, the impressive buck dwarfed in size by the bear. “I humbly submit my offering,” he bowed simply to Briar before stepping back to be enveloped by a throng of well wishers offering water to drink and wash with. Cutter accepted them, but his eye sought out Amelia, giving her a smug grin as if to say ‘I told you so’.

Millie grinned back, turning her head to say something smug in turn to Chase, but he was no longer at her side, having stalked off to clean off and have his fit of temper in private.

That seemed to be the general opinion of the crowd and it came as no surprise when Briar declared the first round in Cutter’s favor.

Amelia let the crowd move and swirl around Cutter while he got cleaned up before she made her way over to him to offer her words of congratulations. What she wanted most was to throw her arms around him and ask him if he really was alright, but instead she stood before him, well aware of all of the scrutiny they were under. “Congratulations,” she offered with a warm smile.

“Thanks, darlin’. I told you this was a sure thing,” he winked.

“You’re alright?” she asked softly. He’d wiped away most of the blood, but she could see the deep scratches on his shoulder were real enough, and one long rent down his back still oozed fresh blood.

“Just a scratch or two, nothing that needs stitching.”

“If you’re sure… I could probably scare up some pink thread somewhere,” she offered a private smile, trying to trust the easy confidence she heard in his voice.

“Maybe later,” he returned her smile. “After I win this thing you can spend the rest of the day fussing over me, would that make you feel better?”

“Some,” she admitted, “but just the rest of the day, I have something else in mind to celebrate with after the sun goes down,” Amelia added, her voice a deep husky whisper.

“Now
that
is something to look forward do, pack business be damned.”

Amelia took a half step closer, “Maybe we could…” Her words were cut off as Adele addressed the crowd, signaling the beginning of the next phase of the rites of succession. “Good luck, love you…” she whispered, knowing he could hear her before she moved to take her place at Adele’s side.

* * *

The kid was faster.

Cutter had known Chase would have the advantage of youth and speed in the second leg of the competition, but it had taken him by surprise how hard he had to work to even keep the younger man in his sights. Only sheer determination pushed him ahead, kept him from giving up in the face of Chase’s clear domination in the event. Maybe the pup would tire? Endurance might be the determining factor; so Cutter pressed on, blazing a trail through the woods on two bare feet in Chase’s wake.

Halfway to the midpoint, Cutter was pleased to see he was gaining a little. Chase was still up ahead with a commanding lead, but he was able to hold his own and even close the distance a bit. The look of fury on the younger man’s face proved he’d noticed it as well, and Cutter couldn’t help but feel a brief flare of glee over that small victory.

Even as he watched, Chase suddenly slowed, allowing Cutter to overtake him as he crouched to the ground. Torn between the desire to stop and see if he was injured and to continue and take the race, he pushed ahead; he had to for Amelia’s sake. If Chase was injured, he could come back for him later after he’d won the hand of his mate. As he pulled ahead, Cutter’s heart lifted. Maybe the Gods really had forgiven him after all those years? How else could he have hoped to beat Chase in such a race if something hadn’t intervened?

Or perhaps the Gods had a sense of humor after all?

The grey wolf streaked past him in a blur, easily overtaking him, something trailing from its mouth. Realizing what had happened, a steady string of curses left Cutter’s mouth as he lost any lead he’d gained.

The bastard was cheating.

Cheating was always an option he supposed; just not one that occurred to him, so deeply ingrained was his sense of honor. But as the wolf that was Chase disappeared from view, pants dangling from its maw, Cutter realized he’d underestimated the fervor with which Chase wanted to be Alpha; that drive that made the end justify the means in his mind, even at the cost of his soul.

Still, Cutter pressed on, fuming at the injustice of it. It would be nearly impossible to prove the cheat once the bastard deposited his clothing at the halfway mark, unless there was someone there to serve as a witness, but he probably would have thought of that. All it would take was someone loyal to Adele’s cause to declare Chase had arrived on two feet instead of four and that would be that.

The grey wolf came racing towards him, unfettered by the jeans; Chase had rounded the bend and was headed for the finish line. As he passed by, the wolf snapped at Cutter’s legs. At such a speed it did little more than rake sharp teeth across his calf, no real force behind the bite, but the balls on the guy… it was enough to set his teeth on edge.

As he reached the midpoint, Cutter found that there was indeed a ‘witness’ on hand, holding Chase’s jeans in a neat bundle. Recognizing him as one of Adele’s bodyguards, he knew there would be no confirmation of Chase’s deception. With a scowl of disgust, he quickly stripped out of his pants, shifting almost mid run to his wolf form. Knowing he was running a losing battle, Cutter kept going, determined to finish out the race.

When at last he burst forth into the clearing, a half hearted cheer went through the pack, but most could be seen gathering around Chase where he sat at Adele’s side, holding court and enjoying a cool drink. In that instant, Cutter would have gladly leapt for his throat; it would have simplified things between them, but there was enough restraint left even in that form for him to simply move to Amelia’s side and nudge at her hand with a low whine. He was thirsty, but as soon as they noticed him he would be expected to fight without a chance to rest, and the third and final trial would begin.

* * *

Amelia knew it the instant Cutter reappeared. Ever since she’d seen Chase emerge victorious from the trees, her stomach tightened up into a hard, painful ball, knowing the next part would be the most dangerous of all. Resisting the urge to drop to her knees and wrap her arms around the massive wolf; Millie sank her fingers into the thick fur of his ruff, briefly massaging tired muscles as much as she dared.

It was all too brief a contact for the two of them as Adele stepped up and announced the beginning of the next trial. Millie was barely aware of the shift beside her, it happened so fast, and then Cutter stood there. Body covered in a sheen of sweat, his eyes narrowed dangerously at Chase who looked rested and collected, dressed in another pair of jeans. “Good luck,” Amelia whispered fervently, sliding fingers across the back of his hand before he moved away to dress for the final event.

Cutter dared not look back at Amelia, it wasn’t the time for tender good byes or whispered hopes and dreams. He needed to gather his rage around him, let the injustice done to him feed his anger. He had to be out for blood, for it was certain Chase wanted the same from him. Tugging on his pants with short, angry movements, he stepped into the sacred circle, delineated with smooth white stones at the center of the clearing.

There were no words from Adele or Briar. No blessings given or prayers to the Gods, it was the time for bloodshed; one of the men might very well not be leaving the circle on his own two feet ever again.

Amelia felt the loss as soon as Cutter stepped away, following after him to the edge of the circle with the rest of the pack who soon closed them in, each eager to see the blows dealt.

Without preamble Chase launched himself at Cutter as soon as he entered the circle, claws extended. Anticipating the move, Cutter was able to deflect most of the blow, allowing Chase’s momentum to carry him past with less damage than was intended, but the rake of claws connected with his side and first blood was drawn, eliciting an angry growl from the older man.

The pack gave a resounding cry at the sight of blood, some of which were cheers of support and some groans of sympathy for the wound inflicted. No longer able to keep up the façade of impartiality, Amelia couldn’t help but groan in dismay at the appearance of blood, knowing it was only the beginning.

Many of the moves were too fast to be tracked by human eyes as the two men tried their damnedest to annihilate each other. It reminded Amelia of a no rules, no holds barred cage fight, only with vicious claws in the place of knives or weapons, and no referee to call foul when someone fought dirty. With growing dismay, she saw Cutter was moving slower than Chase, absorbing hit after hit as Chase struck again and again. Cuts and scrapes appeared all over his torso, but he seemed unaffected by it, except when one bled into his eye and he swiped at it with the back of his hand.

Chase for his part seemed to have boundless energy, hopping all over the circle between attacks, dancing out of range before Cutter could retaliate, the smirk on his face growing wider and wider. Until Cutter knocked the silly grin from his face with one well placed blow. Slower to attack, Cutter’s hits had a power behind them that Chase didn’t possess. The instant his adversary was stunned by the blow, Cutter pressed his advantage, pummeling him again and again, claws sinking deep into his unprotected sides. Chase screamed in agony, desperate to escape the range of those powerful claws. Cutter continued to press, not giving Chase time to recover. Blows rained down upon the younger, and now the handsome smirk was flawed by a split lip and the dark eyes were swollen and bruised.

Still, Cutter didn’t let up, hammering Chase with methodical precision, moving for all of those sweet spots, the hollow of the throat, the tender area above the kidneys, anywhere he spotted an opening. Chase tried to counter with a kick to the groin that Cutter deflected to take the brunt of the hit against his hip.

Struggling to keep on his feet, Chase lunged for Cutter again, teeth bared, claws extended as he went for his throat. Sidestepping the charge, Cutter used his momentum to drive Chase to the ground face first, pinning him with one hand behind his back, the other at his throat, claws pressing against tender flesh. “Do you yield?” he growled, chest heaving with the effort to draw in breath.

“Fuck you! I will never yield to you. You’ll have to kill me first!” Chase spat out, struggling for all he was worth to break free, but Cutter’s hold was unshakable given his leverage.

A swift kick was given, the snap of bone heard plainly by those surrounding the circle as Cutter connected with his knee. “Do you yield?” he asked again, his voice cold, deadly. “I won’t ask again.”