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He didn’t want to fight the shifter. Didn’t want to kill him. Fuck, he didn’t want to die, either. But that wasn’t an option. If it wasn’t so serious and time wasn’t of the essence, he’d like to think he’d find another way.
But Olcan was right. Not in what he had said, but by choosing Kodiak as his beta.
Both shifters were strong, great fighters. But the difference was Shota gave into his hotheadness, let the testosterone rule instead of fighting it back when he needed to. Shota would never choose a path that might look weak because it wasn’t one forged with fists and blood and teeth.
He’d always choose the fighting road, show might and think that was strength.
Even for Kodiak it had been a hard-won lesson, but one he’d been navigating and exploring for years.
He wanted change.
Shota wanted to drag everything back into the darker ages.
And that, along with his hotheaded ways, would lead to their demise.
So here he was, about to fight someone he’d thought of as a friend, to the death.
Because Shota would never yield.
And even if he did, he’d be waiting, breath hot on Kodiak’s neck, waiting to strike when he could. Shota wouldn’t care if the time he chose was good or bad for the pack, only for himself.
Opportunists had no place as a shifter alpha.
But he still waited, giving Shota space to see the error, to change his ways.
One glance at the other shifter told Kodiak he wasn’t about to do that. Shota was priming himself, pumped up on the earlier fights, the pain of loss morphing into deeper anger, and shorter fuses into something dangerous.
Someone Kodiak wasn’t even sure he really knew anymore.
Olcan would be disappointed but not, he suspected, surprised.
To the side, like a human world champion boxer, Shota made a show of his getting ready. A display meant to psyche Kodiak out, when in reality it just annoyed, like a fly.
Finally Shota stepped naked into the circle, outlined by an old hemp rope.
“I challenge you for the position of alpha,” said Shota.
“I accept.” Kodiak stayed focused on Shota.
All the thoughts and reasons he had on the fight, the future, why he was doing this, disappeared, leaving only this act itself.
It had to be like that.
He’d trained his packmate from his youth, and they knew all of each other’s tricks. It wouldn’t be an easy fight. Except he was up against a pack member, one of his own kind, and this was unnatural.
But there were ways, such as kicking him from the pack. That would be like death to someone built like Shota.
“Witnesses, are you watching?” called out Onai.
The pack responded with a unitedYes!
He drew a breath, right down to the bottom of his gut, and let his muscles stay loose and ready for whatever might come.
Shota may have new moves, but he doubted that. Tricks perhaps, but eventually Shota would revert to what he knew.
“The winner of the fight will win the title of alpha.” Onai raised his arms. “Are you ready?”
The air of expectancy grew charged and swelled. And he looked at Onai with a nod.
