Instead, he says loudly so they—and everyone else—can hear him, “I love you,” before pushing Carnell as hard as he can.
It’s not first blood, but it is something he has wanted to do since he was a child. Seeing Carnell land on his ass, even for a minute, makes him laugh.
Carnell isn’t down long and is on his feet, rushing Gideon, who dodges out of the way. Momentum keeps him going, and Gideon turns to see Leo and Luca sidestep so that he lands on his hands and knees.
With a roar, he’s back on his feet, face ruddy with humiliated rage.
“This doesn’t look like it will be much of a fight,” Leo taunts.
“No. I’m disappointed, really,” Gideon agrees, and the crowd titters.
Carnell charges him again; this time, Gideon lets the momentum spin him around, bringing his claws up and slashing Carnell across his bony chest, tearing that awful shirt and finally drawing first blood.
A crazed gleam ignites in Carnell’s eyes as he swipes his own claws out—one catching Gideon across the cheek—but he doesn’t stop when Gideon’s head snaps back.
While Gideon is off balance, he draws his leg out and kicks Gideon in the knee—luckily missing his mark, but tipping him farther off balance and onto his knees. The pain in his thigh is nothing against the memory of his father doing the same thing when he’d been seven and hadn’t dropped to his knees fast enough to clean up his toys.
He’d known even then that he’d not wanted to kneel to the monster grinning over his gin and tonic.
“Kneeling already, boy?”
“I’ll never kneel to you,” Gideon says, climbing to his feet.
Every slash connects as he drives Carnell back—but not enough to finish him; just enough to appease his wolf with the steady flow of his sire’s blood dripping from a chest and abdomen full of cuts.
Carnell lands several hits of his own, but Gideon’s wolf is more interested in seeing his enemy bleed than protecting himself.
“You are worthy of leading, son. Let’s call a truce, and you can take your place beside me.”
“You never fucking listen. I don’t want to lead. I don’t want to hold a gun,” Gideon says, grasping Carnell’s arm and slashing the tendon between his upper and lower arm.
Carnell screams, but Gideon doesn’t stop.
“I don’t want to fuck the twelve-year-old daughter of the Nashville Mayor. But mostly, I don’t want to kill anyone but you.” He punctuates the last sentence with a slash to Carnell’s belly. It would have been enough to kill him if Carnell weren’t already stumbling back.
“Son, what about the prophecy?” he gasps, holding his arm close to his body while he swipes his claws out in anuncoordinated attempt to hold Gideon off. “You’re meant to lead.”
Gideon laughs, wipes his claws off on his pant legs.
“You and your stupid fucking prophecy. Do you think any one of those poor Oracles would tell you the truth? Or all of it? Knowing how batshit crazy you are? Who are you to think you deserve divine knowledge?”
As if he’d never once thought the prophecy could be anything but the truth, Carnell’s eyes narrow.
“They told me the truth, every time. You are born under the Hunter’s Moon. You are meant to be King. You. It has to be you. You are her son. It has to be you,” he says faintly.
Several bystanders walk away, but Gideon doesn’t pay them any further notice.
“So pathetic. You’ve hardly given me a fight at all. How can you possibly be the leader of anything?”
Carnell wipes at the blood seeping from a wound on his forehead as it drips into his eyes, before laughing.
“How dare you speak to me like that? I killed your beloved leader. Me. I hope he suffered, for all the trouble he’s caused me.”
“He’s not dead, you fool. Do you think I’d have waited for an embossed invitation to find you if he was? He is my alpha, and he is more of a man than you could ever hope to be.” Gideon laughs and pushes his father back with a hard hand to his solar plexus.
“He’s dead. The prophecy said he had to die…paradox in carmine.” Carnell shakes his head. “He kept you from me. He’s dead.”
“He lives. It was you!” Gideon shouts. “Youkept me from you. You and your psychopathic, narcissistic cruelty and delusions. You. And now, I’m going to put you out of everyone’s misery. Look at them—look!”
