Page 86

I slam my fist into his ribs once, then twice. His grip breaks, but the third rogue hits me from behind and drives my knees into the ground.

Michael’s roar sounds seconds before the weight disappears from my back. I turn and see him driving the rogue away from me.

“Thought I told you not to die,” he shouts.

“You never told me that.”

“I’m telling you now.”

Despite everything, I laugh.

Joshua curses from several feet away. “Can both of you shut the fuck up and fight?”

“Yes, Gamma,” Michael calls.

I grin and charge the next rogue. Joshua looks at me again, and I don’t know what the hell he’s looking for. I stop caring when two more wolves rush him. One is his. The other becomes mine.

The numbers finally begin thinning. Several rogues are down. Others have surrendered and are restrained behind our line. The ones still fighting are either desperate or stupid enough to believe they can break through us.

They can’t.

A rogue lunges toward Michael, and I intercept him. Another tries to get around Joshua, and I catch him too. One of the Pack Warriors shouts a warning from farther down the line, and Joshua immediately changes our position.

“Close the gap!”

Michael and I move without hesitation. The remaining rogues hit us together, and for several minutes, there is nothing except surviving the next strike and making sure the wolf beside me survives his.

Then suddenly there are no more coming.

I turn slowly, chest heaving. Blood runs down my arm. My ribs burn every time I breathe, and half my shirt is hanging from my body. Michael has a deep cut across his cheek and blood covering one side of his neck. Joshua is limping.

But the line is still ours. Not one rogue got through.

Pack Warriors move among the fallen, checking our wolves first before securing the rogues still alive. One of the attackers drops to his knees before anyone reaches him and puts his hands behind his head.

Smart wolf.

I shift back and wipe blood from my mouth. Joshua walks toward me, his eyes moving over the battlefield and then over me. He looks toward Michael before his gaze returns to me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I narrow my eyes as he walks away.

Liar.

Michael approaches from the other side and slaps my shoulder. Pain shoots through me.

I hiss. “That one hurts.”

“Good.”

I stare at him. He grins and holds out his hand. I clasp it, and Michael pulls me forward before slapping my back.

“You’re an asshole.”

“So are you.”