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Sterling pounced with terrifying speed that made the crowd—and even me—gasp. Within half a second, he had tumbled Henri into the ground and twisted into war-form. Sterling wasn’t as fast a shifter as a she-wolf, but he was slick as a male could be, and faster than most. In war-form, a new scar on his leg was apparent: a deep set of gouged ridges from a war-form’s claw.
For a split second, I was back in Clare, on that night, as war-forms came through the snow, trying to take my mate, my family, and my left-overs. My skin shivered with a shift. The MoonDark held it steady, and Searle grabbed my wrist, fingers digging into the delicate skin.
Henri was a slower shifter, but contorted into a large, yet lithe-looking war-form. Sterling snarled and snapped his jaws at Henri’s throat, but Henri deftly evaded, neatly twisting his legs to trap one of Sterling’s. Sterling evaded that, shoved forward, teeth barred and claws shining in the moonlight.
Henri’s calm made my spine crawl.
Sterling snarled and snapped at Henri’s face, and the First Beta jerked to evade, and Sterling drove his other claw into Henri’s exposed side.
Henri grunted in pain. Sterling bit down on the First Beta’s shoulder but Henri evaded at the last second, and Sterling only drew a thin line that welled darker and wet against Henri’s pelt. The crowd drew in a gasp. First blood to Sterling.
Henri scooped with his arms and hooked one leg on Sterling’s hip, and tossed my mate into the sand. Sterling rolled away and was on his feet in an instant. He grinned at Henri, fangs bright and dripping in the light. He growled, low, an unspokenmore, then he pounced, and he and Henri tumbled into the sand in a snarling knot of claws and fangs.
But now something about the fight seemed off. My mate’s reactions seemed slower, uncertain, hesitant. And it wasn’t just Henri was better than Sterling, because Henriwasbetter than Sterling. It was Henri’s job to be better. But something… something was just not right. Was he favoring an injury? He didn’t seem to know what to do or where to put his claws, and every movement seemed to have a half-second of hesitation behind it. And Henri was pressing the advantage without mercy, forcing Sterling to move faster and quicker and not pick his moments, and Sterling more and more on the defensive, which only made him dig in harder, and only made things, inexplicably, get worse for him.
Henri bit Sterling’s forearm, Sterling punched him in the liver, somehow delivering a blow hard enough from the bottom to stagger Henri enough Sterling shrimped free, then slick as liquid silver, shifted into wolf-form, intending to sprint away and get some distance.
But not fast enough, and Henri grabbed him by a hindleg, lifted him, andsmashedhim into the sand. The sound of Sterling’s ribs and all the air in his body being forced out of his lungs sounded like he’d been turned into a drumstick.
Henri lifted him again for another smash. Sterling twisted into war-form, fast enough the AmberHowl rewarded him with applause, and Henri was suddenly holding the business end of a war-form claw. Henri yankedforwardand smashed Sterling in the neck.
It made a terrible sound.
Sterling dropped to the sand.
“Staayyy down,” Henri growled.
Sterling rolled to his hip and braced himself on one claw.
“Ennnouugh,” Henri growled.“Exhibition.We are nnotttt goinggg to injury,rattterrr.”
Ratter.
Sterling barred his teeth, his snout twisting up in fury, his pelt bristling with rage.
“Ratttterr,” Henri intoned again, shaping human speech with all the loving calm of a glacier.“You are done.”
My heart sank, and sank, and sank to the bottom of a crevice named Henri, and a few heartbeats later, Sterling bowed his head, accepting defeat.
The AmberHowl offered unexpectedly enthusiastic applause. It had been a good fight, better than any of them had expected. My gut was down somewhere at the bottom of the ocean. The only advantage Sterling had over Alan was Sterling’s iron will. If that had been damaged…
Henri shifted back to human form and offered Sterling his hand. Blood trickled from scratches and bites, a few bruises were appearing on him, but nothing serious.
Sterling shifted, silky and silvery, and allowed Henri to pull him up. He nodded once to acknowledge Henri as victor, another respectful nod to Marcella and Demetrius, and finally, to Searle and me. A second wave of appreciative applause came.
My side thumped and my fingers danced and my hearthurt. Laid bare, filleted, salted, and served.
His gaze didn’t linger for a single instant, and just as quick as he’d nodded, he turned, melted back into wolf-form and trotted out of the sand. The AmberHowl parted for him to pass.
“Business is concluded,” Demetrius told the pack, and he clapped his hands once.
The AmberHowl broke into a chattering party.
Searle, Henri, Demetrius, and Marcella immediately clumped together to compare notes. I squished myself into it. Searle tried to elbow me out. So I elbowed him back.
“Well?” Marcella inquired. “Or do you need time to think about it?”
Henri shook his head. “I don’t think a year is going to make a difference. Alpha?”
