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“Yeah, I’ve got a problem,” I said before I knew the words were coming, before I allowed myself to acknowledge what that problem was. “I have a problem with you sniffing around barely legal females.”

Roman’s chin jerked up. “What the fuck you talking about?”

I don’t know where that came from. She was twenty years old, not some teenager; hell, I was only a few years older. I forgot sometimes that I just felt as if I were sixty despite my actual age. The rage in me, that pressure behind my chest, built to unstoppable proportions.

“Jasmine.” Her name burst from me in a snarl.

His brows lowered, his amber eyes boring into me, then his lips curled up. “That female’s far from a fucking pup, even by human standards. Jazzy’s old enough to do whatever the fuck she wants.” He grinned, taunting me. “Seems you’re worried, fox, that right now…that’s me.”

My claws burst from the ends of my fingers, and I dove at him, using my speed to my advantage, tearing into his side before swinging and slamming my fist into his jaw. His head jerked back, his lip splitting. I’d taken him by surprise, but I wouldn’t get that opportunity again.

He grinned at me, blood smearing his fangs, and punched me in the gut, throwing me across the pit like he was swatting a fly. I flew off the ground, and back at him, punching, kicking, clawing wherever I could get him. He hissed and growled, his fists like anvils smashing into my body every time I came at him.

I spun, punching him in the kidney, grabbed the fist coming at me, and spun back around behind him, slamming my foot into the back of his leg. He dropped to one knee, but only for a moment, before he tossed me like a football across the pit and into the wall, cracking at least two of my ribs.

I ignored the pain radiating through my body, the taste of my own blood, and ran back, time and again. Returning blow for blow. The hound’s healing was a lot faster than mine, and his cuts and bruises were already fading. Our fighting techniques were different. I was relying on speed, dodging, spinning, kicking. Roman was all about brute force, using his fists like sledgehammers.

If we both shifted, I’d already be dead. He did use his claws, though, and I hissed when he dug them into my side. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, and I shook my head, trying to clear it, then slammed my fist into his nose. Blood sprayed me before he tossed me aside again.

I staggered back to my feet, about to charge him again—

Warrick was suddenly in front of me, shoving me back. “Enough.”

“Not done,” I snarled and tried to push past him.

“You’re fucking done,” he said and all but tossed me out of the pit.

He followed, and when I tried to get back in, he planted a hand to my chest. “You proved your point, you can fight. You fucked up Rome, you made him bleed. But he heals a fuck of a lot faster than you, and if you don’t get your wounds looked at now, you’ll bleed out and die. Wills will be sad and fucked off at me for not doing what I am now. So go get that shit taken care of.”

Rome jumped out of the pit and grinned at me, barely a scratch on him now. “Here for round two when you are, pup,” he said, then turned his back, dismissing me.

I took a step toward him. If I had a knife—

My brain screeched to a halt, the rage draining away instantly. The fucked-up direction of my thoughts was enough to stop me from charging after him. I got the fuck out of there.

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Chapter 8

Ren

* * *

I stumbled down the tunnel. I just needed to stay conscious long enough to get home.

The door opened ahead of me, and Willow rushed out, her eyes widening when she saw me. Fucking Warrick ratted me out.

“What the hell were you thinking? War said you wouldn’t stop.” She helped me into their place.

I scowled, while my fox whined, happy to see her, wanting her comfort. “Your mate has a big fucking mouth.”

“He was worried you’d bleed out.” She shoved me down the hall. “Spare room. Now.” Then she rushed off.

Violet’s door was open, and I leaned against the jamb. She was in her bed, her little chest rising and falling, so vulnerable, so precious. I’d do anything to protect her, to stop anyone from hurting her—even make her mate, whoever they turned out to be, bleed if I didn’t think he was good enough for her. That’s why I fought with Rome, right? Because he wasn’t good enough for Jasmine, because she was Willow’s family and she deserved better.

I looked at the mural she’d painted for Vi. Jaz was kind, caring, and so incredibly talented. Her dad had nothing to do with his daughters, her mom had fucking left her when she was still a kid. She needed people to look out for her, especially while Zinnia was in Limbo.

Something orange caught my eye. It was the tip of a pointed ear, and below it, amber eyes glowed among the leaves.