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Tesler charged me, and charged me again, not even bothering to change angle, let alone tactic. I sidestepped and wiped blood from my nose, the droplets spraying the snow. As Tesler recovered and wheeled, I glanced at Clay. He had his arms crossed, face immobile, only his eyes betraying his concern.
"I've got him," I said.
"I know."
Tesler charged again. I sidestepped. This time, though, my left foot slipped and, had Tesler been quicker, he would have spun and taken me down. As it was, he tried, but I managed to dance out of the way.
My heart thumped. Not fear. Exhilaration. Tesler was still standing, but I had him, and he knew it. I could tell by the set of his jaw. The wild look in his eyes. The desperation in each charge. He was a wounded bull making his last stand.
Clay crossed and uncrossed his arms, holding himself in check. I knew what it must be like for him, watching me, knowing how tired I was, how every muscle ached. He was still fresh and spoiling for a fight, and he longed to take over this one for me.
Yes, this felt good. It felt so damned good. But Clay was right. I was taking chances, and it was time to end this.
When Tesler charged again, I started to dance out of the way, then shot out my foot and tripped him. I jumped onto his back, grabbed his hair and ground his face into the dirt and blood-streaked snow.
Then I thought of all the ways I could kill him.
Clay had killed that mutt thirty years ago to cement his reputation. If I was worried about being accepted as Alpha, here was a way to solve the problem. Prove I was just as crazy, just as sadistic and just as dangerous as Clay.
If that was my entire purpose in making Tesler suffer, then I could have done it. But Clay hadn't made that mutt suffer. He'd knocked him out with anesthetic before he even knew what was happening. He wasn't crazy. He wasn't sadistic. Dangerous, yes, but not in the way they thought.
Clay wasn't a monster. But if I tortured Tesler because I wanted him to die horribly, that would make me one.
I glanced over at Clay. "Do you want him? You did want to make an example of a mutt again."
That got Tesler's attention. Until now, he'd been still. Not surrendering, I was sure. Just resting as I contemplated my next move. Now he bucked. But I saw that one coming, and easily kept him pinned, grinding his face into the ground again for good measure.
When I glanced at Clay, though, he said, "Nah, too much bother. I just want to go home."
"So do I."
I grabbed Tesler's hair, ready to snap his neck.
"Wait!" he said.
I leaned over hi
m. "Got a few last words, Travis? Unless they're 'I'm sorry,' I don't really want to hear them."
"Sorry?" He sneered. "Is that what you want from me? An apology for hurting you?"
"No, not particularly. I've had those. They don't do much good."
I thought of the letter and, for the first time since it arrived, the memory didn't make my stomach clench. I didn't accept that apology and I damned well wasn't going to feel guilty about it. But I wouldn't send a nasty letter back. Just silence, and in that, he'd know he wasn't forgiven. And if he suffered more guilt for what he'd done? That was fine by me.
"What I'd like an apology for is the others," I said. "For Dennis, who never did a damned thing to you. For those girls, whose only mistake was looking for a little fun. And for all the other girls you raped and murdered before you came here. I'd like to hear an apology for them, but I know you won't give it and I know they wouldn't want it. So we're going to skip those final words--"
"I'll join the Pack."
"What?"
"You need recruits. I heard that. I'll join."
I couldn't help laughing. "And what makes you think we'd let--"
"I'm a damned fine fighter. I'll fight for the Pack and you'll own my ass. That's the price I'll pay for my life."
"How... noble. Really. Only one problem. That damned fine fighter part. You're good, I'll give you that. But I still beat you."
