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A howl of pain rips from Bruce’s throat, and he races forward, arms spread wide as if he wants to embrace Owen.
My mate ducks under one outstretched arm and spins to rake his claws across Bruce’s back, leaving behind bloody furrows in his fur.
Bruce snarls and whips around, catching Owen on the side of the head.
Owen stumbles back, and Bruce pounces, taking Owen to the ground.
Terror rushes through me, and Haut pulls me against his chest, his hand over my mouth stifling my cry.
The two wolfmen wrestle across the gravel driveway, claws and teeth snapping. The gathered crowd jumps out of their way, and they tumble into the grass.
Bruce comes out on top, his body bowed over Owen’s, but Owen gets his feet between them and shoves against Bruce’s stomach, sending the other man flying.
Owen flows to his feet, shaking his head, and blood sprinkles the driveway from a cut on his scalp, just over one pointed ear. Bruce lands near Haut’s SUV, skidding through the gravel, and Owen chases after him, pouncing onto his back.
His mouth opens with a growl, displaying sharp teeth meant for tearing into prey. But instead of sinking them into Bruce’s throat, he swipes his claws through the back of Bruce’s neck, severing his spine.
Bruce’s body stops moving, and Owen stands to grab one hairy ankle and drag him back to the center of the driveway where they started.
There, he drops Bruce’s leg and kicks him onto his back.
Bruce’s eyes roll in his head, and blood seeps from multiple cuts in his body. But already, his toes twitch as his super healing repairs the damage to his spine.
I lift my hands to clutch at the one over my mouth, my wide eyes fixed on Owen as he raises his claws.
Then, Haut’s hand covers my eyes, and darkness falls, followed by a wet, ripping sound as Owen wins the challenge.
Afterward, silence descends.
BLOOD STAINS
Haut’s voice breaks through the silence, quiet and deadly. “Call the winner, Horace.”
The older man’s voice wavers as he obeys. “Owen Hartford remains the Alpha of Hartford Cove.”
“Now, pick up your defeated and get off my property,” Haut snarls.
I spit in angry agreement against Haut’s palm and blindly wave my middle fingers.
The sound of crunching gavel follows, along with the scrape of something being dragged away. Haut’s palms remain over my face during the entire process, the scent of his skin blocking any other smells from reaching my nose.
My pulse beats wildly, my mind circling back to that last image I saw before everything went dark, of Owen with his claws raised, standing over a man twice his size, who by every law of physics should have crushed my gentle lover.
The crunch of footsteps on gravel fills the air, coming toward us, and I reach up to tug on the hand that covers my eyes.
Haut resists, though his hand falls from my mouth.
“Just wait for me to go inside,” Owen says, a thickness in his voice that tugs at my heart.
I elbow Haut’s hard stomach. “Let me go.”
“You don’t need to see this.” His free arm curls around me, and he shifts us off to the side, out of the direct line of access to the door.
Owen’s footsteps echo on the steps, heavy and dragging. He wants to go hide in the house, to wash away the evidence of what happened to spare me the horror.
I shove at Haut’s arms. “Let me go, or I’ll aim the next elbow at your balls!”
“Rowe…” His heavy sigh ruffles the hair at the top of my head. “Just behave for a few more minutes.”
