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Another round of boos sounded as the referee began his introduction of Sydon. The referee continued to state Sydon’s stats despite the ruckus and hissing. Mary thought all the noise appropriate given Sydon’s heinous conduct against Fergus and the Gordion Pack.
When the wolves grew quiet again, everyone’s attention became focused on the men now standing in the middle of the sand pit not ten feet apart. By her best visual calculation,
the pit area was an oval twenty yards long and about fifteen yards wide. With limited levitation allowed, the space didn’t need to be bigger.
The referee wore the Savage Pack Council’s dark blue-and-white striped long sleeved shirt and quickly called out the rules. So far the event was unfolding just as Mary had been told it would. She could see Fergus’s muscles twitch. The wolf was ready.
Another wave of dread, however, passed through her. Something wasn’t right. Sydon and his men were too relaxed, too confident. Yet, she’d checked their seats, she’d made a circuit of the arena and she’d even gone into the forest. But she’d found nothing unusual or troubling.
Yet a powerful concern remained.
The referee shouted, “Let the battle begin!”
A roar rose up from the crowd and at the same moment, Fergus lowered his shoulders and headed straight for Sydon. He looked like he meant to slam into his chest, but instead at the last second threw a right punch that caught Sydon off guard. Sydon flew back. He ended up sitting in the sand and rubbing his jaw.
A howling cheer went up so loud, it was all Mary could do to keep from joining the wolves herself.
A split-second later, Sydon was on his feet. He came at Fergus hard and caught Fergus in the ribs with his foot. Fergus doubled over, then spun on his heel. Sand sprayed.
Sydon missed a second kick, but that allowed Fergus to catch his foot. He did a back-flip which turned Sydon’s leg and sent him once more into the sand.
Fergus didn’t stay put long. He levitated, pivoted horizontally, then plowed into Sydon’s stomach. Fergus drew up, gathered his strength and headed straight back for him.
But Sydon retreated quickly, spun in the sand at the same time then levitated off at an angle. Fergus missed him by an inch and his momentum caused him to tumble forward into the sand.
Turning in the air, Sydon aimed straight at him. It seemed to Mary that Fergus looked dazed, but it was a ruse. The moment Sydon drew close, Fergus flipped over, putting himself out of Sydon’s reach. But at the last moment, he caught Sydon’s ankle.
With a slick levitation move, he swung Sydon around in a complete circle twice, then launched him into the air, sending him twenty feet away. The crowd roared its approval.
Mary’s gaze went to Sydon, who rolled in the sand as he landed. He lifted up slowly, one hand at his waist as though injured.
Mary felt it again, a fae sense of dread so profound that she knew Sydon was up to something and Fergus was in trouble. She didn’t know how since there was no way Sydon had a weapon on him this time.
But Mary knew what she knew.
She had to dreamglide.
She moved close to Warren and slid into his mind. Listen, Warren, my fae instincts tell me our boy is in trouble. Something’s not right, and I need to dreamglide. Will you support my body while I do it, because I’ll be vulnerable while I see what’s going on.
Warren, however, stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.
She understood the problem instantly. Warren didn’t want to touch her because she belonged to Fergus. Being physically close to her would cause all kinds of problems, for Warren personally and alpha-to-alpha. Mary, I can’t do this. I won’t do this to Fergus. Touching you is beyond inappropriate.
She lowered her chin and held his gaze, then growled softly. If you don’t get on board right now Fergus will die, and that’s my fae speaking. Get with the program. Now! She all but shouted the last part into his head.
Her posture, and maybe her wolf-growl, had an effect.
He nodded, then opened his arm for her. By the time she was wrapped up, she felt him shaking from head-to-foot. He was fast reaching the peak of his own alpha-mating cycle as well. Being this close to a female with alpha-mate bonding potential had to be agony for him, but it couldn’t be helped.
The moment she felt secure, Mary dropped quickly into her deepest meditation and slipped into her dreamglide. She flew directly over the battle. No one could see her of course and even if one of the men struck in her direction, they wouldn’t actually touch her. She could fly through both men as they battled and wouldn’t feel a thing. She was, in that sense, a ghost.
The men fought wildly until Fergus landed Sydon on his back, jumped on him and pinned him in the sand. He punched Sydon’s face repeatedly.
Mary knew this was the moment she was meant to watch, because the dread she felt had become a torture over every inch of her skin.
She brought the dreamglide right down next to the men. Fergus’s face was flushed red as he continued to hit Sydon with his bare fist.
She shifted her gaze to Sydon. Why wasn’t he fighting back?
