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There was a larger question, however, one she struggled to ask given the bizarre and swift way events had moved over the past forty-eight hours. But she needed to ask it because it went to basic mental health, something even an alter person had to honor: Did she even want this, any of it?
Somehow, though, she knew she’d already answered the question the moment she’d agreed to come to Savage in the first place. Yes, Sharon had persuaded her and yes, she’d felt it in her bones as well that she would be needed here. But it had been her choice, one she’d made willingly.
She calculated the number of times she’d played a part in either saving Fergus’s life or keeping him safe. The numbers kept stacking up. Would this be her role even beyond the last few encounters?
As Warren reached the final few tables, Mary saw that he looked solemn. But the color of his eyes had deepened to a lustrous emerald. She glanced past him to his wolves and knew that the way he’d just connected with them had added to the beauty of his eyes.
Something inside her leaped with pleasure and joy combined. The fae part of her could appreciate what she knew he’d just experienced. She turned to Fergus and marveled at him as well.
At the exact same moment, she realized how much pain the severed bond had cost Fergus. The alpha responsibility of leading came with a deep emotional connection to those in his care. Where Sydon would abuse and torture his pack, men like Warren and Fergus would serve and protect, the same way they performed their jobs on the border patrol.
Without giving it too much thought, she slid her arm around Fergus’s neck. When he turned to her, his eyes lit with surprise, she kissed him on the lips. The wolf in her knew it would be acceptable in any pack setting. She also knew everyone present was aware she was a female with the ability to become Fergus’s alpha-mate. Little was hidden in pack life.
Fergus’s eyes glowed amber in the same way Warren’s had shown with a more intense emerald light. She saw the pleasure in his eyes, and not just because theirs was a sexual relationship.
You honor me, he said.
I admire the hell out of you, Fergus. She felt dizzy suddenly and could detect the nature of his dreams. And you’re right. Savage will need men like you and Warren.
You’re feeling it as well.
Like a distant rumbling and nothing good.
At last, Warren moved in the direction of Mary’s table. He sat down opposite Fergus and immediately two wolves brought him his meal, which included a large tankard of beer and a steak two inches thick.
He made no apologies as he picked up knife and fork and settled in.
Between bites and a large swallow of beer, he addressed Fergus. “What time is the dominance fight set for?”
“We’re on in an hour.”
Mary drew in a long, slow breath. Her gaze skittered away from both men. In an hour, Fergus would battle to regain his pack. She felt confident Fergus could beat Sydon, no question about that. From what she’d heard about the initial match, Fergus had been well on his way to taking Sydon down when the skewer struck home.
This time Sydon wouldn’t be wearing his wrist guards. But would he have some other nefarious trick up his sleeve?
~ ~ ~
The nearest underground sand pit arena was big enough to house the leaders of the Gordion Pack, Sydon’s rogue pack, and Warren’s Caldion Pack. Named the Sand Boulder for the massive boulders left intact at the southern and northern entrance-exit points, the arena pit sat halfway between Warren and Fergus’s compounds.
Fergus had already changed into his tan leather gladiator briefs. He wore an amber cloak over his shoulders that hung to the floor, but nothing else, not even shoes.
He left the pre-battle room and levitated down the tunnel that led into the arena. Mary was on his right, Warren on his left. His wolf blood flowed hot, and his muscles in his arms and legs contracted and released, ready for a fight.
The last time he’d traveled this tunnel was just before his first dominance battle against Sydon. At the time, Fergus had felt equal to the task of taking Sydon down. He knew his strength, and Sydon, despite his power level, couldn’t compete with him. Sydon’s confidence, however, should have been a warning to Fergus that the wolf was up to something. Yet even now, Fergus was shocked that any wolf would have resorted to using a blade in a dominance match. When it came to honor and ethics, clearly Sydon wasn’t interested.
At the very least, Sydon wouldn’t be allowed to wear wrist guards. He’d only have on his dark gray gladiator briefs and nothing else. He’d be weapon-free and the match should be equal. Because the fae part of Fergus felt uneasy, however, his focus became fixed as much on Sydon’s nature as his batting skills.
When he reached the tunnel opening, he dropped down from levitation to walk along the stone pavers. He had a limited view of the arena, but he wanted a good look around before he headed to his staging platform.
In the center, a full sixty feet down from the top row of seats, was the pit. It was filled with sand two feet deep and smoothed with the back of a rake. During a dominance battle, limited levitation was allowed and a combatant could only shift into his wolf form when he surrendered the field.
Punching, kicking and wrestling moves were all allowed, but no biting and no weapons of any kind.
The seats were already filled, the bulk with the members of the Gordion Pack, who would be most affected by the outcome. He sensed the partial bond his wolves had already forged with Sydon. He wasn’t surprised by it, but it fired up his blood even more.
Fergus recognized the gray logo patches of Sydon’s force since the wolves hovered near the south entrance-exit.
As he began to walk out from the tunnel, along the path that led to his platform, his gaze moved in a strong arc, watching for any sign of trouble. Warren’s pack drew close from the sides of the path, guarding him. Wolves were volatile and the presence of Sydon’s loyal rogue pack was a bad sign. Sydon had no fear and neither did his wolves. The air was charged with wolf adrenaline, which had his heart pumping.
