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Chapter ten
Oberon
Pulse racing, I pull away from Aisling, my back hitting the cold brick with a thud that jars my senses. Her breath hitches–we both see him, a shadow at the alley’s end. The raw need in us turns to ice.
Something is very, very wrong here.
“I can see you, motherfucker!” My voice is rough, a low growl that doesn’t belong in this exposed place. I step in front of Aisling, shield her with my body. “Get lost!”
He doesn’t move for a heartbeat or two–just stands there, watching us with eyes wide and hungry.
And then he charges like a bull, feet pounding on the cracked asphalt.
Fuck, fuck…he’s on that shit.
Berserk, out of his mind.
I’ve been there, and I know this isn’t gonna be an easy fight.
“Shit.” I brace myself, ready for the impact. My mind switches gears, from lover to fighter in an instant. Fight first, keep her safe. Always.
“Oberon!” Aisling’s voice is sharp with fear, but she doesn’t cower behind me. She’s no delicate flower; she’s steel, forged in the fires of this broken world.
“Stay back,” I bark, not because I doubt her, but because I can’t bear the thought of her getting hurt. Not when I’m here to take the hits.
And I guess the pack tattoos worked…because he’s more interested in fighting me than fucking her. The guy comes at me, all fists and fury. He’s on something, has to be, with the way he moves–erratic, desperate. But I’ve been through worse, seen darker days than this. I dodge a swing, land a punch that’s more bone than knuckle.
“Fuck off!” The words are a weapon, spat out with as much force as I throw into my fists. This is the gritty underbelly of survival, where it’s claw or be clawed. We don’t dance around it; we brawl with it, head-on.
Aisling doesn’t just stand there. She’s part of this world too, knows its cruelty, its violence. She grabs a discarded pipe, grips it like she’s born to wield it, ready to jump in if needed.
“Oberon, watch out!”
I twist, catch the guy’s wrist, and flip him over. He crashes to the ground with a grunt, lies still. For a moment, there’s only the sound of our heavy breathing, the distant wail of a siren that never comes close enough.
Then he’s up again, lunging at me, a blur of desperate need and raw strength. His eyes are wide, bloodshot…looking a lot like mine before I detoxed, when I was feral in the Solace mansion. He’s all rabid intensity, a cornered animal lashing out with everything he’s got.
I feel the rush of air as a fist whizzes past my face. I block the next one, absorb the impact up my arm. My return punch is a direct line of energy from my core to his gut, driving the wind out of him. He doubles over, but he’s relentless, driven by the drug pumping through him.
Aisling swings the pipe, connects with the attacker’s back. The sound is hollow, a thud against flesh and bone that echoes in the narrow space between the walls.
“Shit,” she breathes out, the word almost lost in the scuffle.
He turns on her now, and I can’t have that. Can’t let him touch her. There’s a fire inside me, stoked high and fierce. I grab him by the collar, yank him back. We’re tangled in a dance where every step is survival, every move could be the last.
“Get off!” I bark, close to his ear.
My knuckles find his jaw, once, twice, a third time for good measure. He staggers, his footing gone, and I push forward, not giving him a chance to recover. We’re fighting in tight quarters, nowhere to go but through each other.
His nails scratch at my skin, drawing lines of fire that I’ll feel later. He’s strong, but the drug is making him sloppy, his movements predictable. I catch his arm, twist it behind him, hear the grunt of pain.
“Oberon, careful!” Aisling’s voice cuts through the grunts and gasps.
I throw my weight into him, send us both crashing to the ground. My elbow finds the soft spot below his ribcage, and I press down until his struggles weaken. He’s gasping now, his fight fading. I lean close, my voice low and steady.
“Stay down.”
He goes limp beneath me, the fight drained out of him like water from a sieve. I stand, my breath coming fast, and look down at the man sprawled on the ground, unconscious, harmless for now.
