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Hackles raised, Declan remained planted between Cade and the wolf. It towered over him. Yeah, that wasn’t a fucking fight I wanted to watch. Declan didn’t have what it took—especially considering he was facing down his wife.
Not wife. Wolf.
Just a feral wolf.
Before the wolf could lunge, I slid between the two. My arm lodged between its jaws. Thank fuck for my goddamn bite-proof shirt. It was fucking armor. I felt the intense pressure of its jaw attempting to crush my fucking arm, but that was it. I’d had worse.
“Give me your worst,” I growled and pushed back—a taunt to keep it in place. With my free hand, I wiggled my fingers. I made sure my glove was in place securely as I clicked the discreet button on the knuckle. Sparks surged across my palm and danced between my fingers. The voltage wouldn’t kill it, but it would pack a fucking punch.
With another baiting shove, I grabbed its throat and held on tight. The wolf whined and snarled, bucking backward and letting me go. I landed a solid kick to its upper chest and sent it tumbling backward.
When it recovered, it was fucking pissed—more than pissed. Good. Pissed off equaled reckless, which would tip the odds in my favor. The glow of purple intensified as the wolf and I circled one another. My fingers twitched impatiently with every step, electric currents sparking off my glove.
With my other hand, I carefully loosened the opening on the catch-all noose.
Step one: get the catch-all around its neck.
The second it came at me, I jogged backward.
“Come and get me,” I said under my breath. I didn’t care what the fuck it was thinking as it growled, spittle flying from its snout. I was in control.
I slowed, letting it gain ground.
That space between us fucking closed.
Swiftly, I side-stepped it, giving it no time to turn with me.
That edge let me force its head through the catch-all.
Magic surged through the rope. It tightened around the wolf’s neck. At the exact same moment, I dug my fucking heels into the dirt. Thank fuck for the dig-ins because the fucking strength the wolf had. My knees damn near gave out as I rushed through locking the catch-all into place on my belt. I needed my own fucking weight to counteract the wolf.
There was also no fucking way I was letting go.
That tug, that pull, that rush. It fucking went to my head. The adrenaline was intoxicating. One wrong fucking move was all it’d take for the wolf to fucking end me. Maybe I really was a sick bastard for enjoying that feeling.
For every pull it gave, the rope around its neck tightened.
I’d done this enough to know that first, it’d pull and then it’d fucking charge.
Step two: snout-guard.
I barely had the snout-guard off my belt before the wolf charged. Throwing my arm up, its teeth caught on my arm tight as it tackled me to the ground.
Paws.
Teeth.
Spit.
Growls.
And the fucking blinding pressure in my arm.
The onslaught to my senses would’ve overwhelmed me if I wasn’t fucking used to compartmentalizing. I shoved up with my arm, but the wolf dragged me with it. It flipped and rolled. A painful grunt tore through my body as it slammed me over again into the grass.
That would hurt in the morning.
But I refused to let it stop me. I scrambled as it surged forward, damn near mounting its back. I buried my hand in its scruff, and the endless electrical wave currents made its body rigid momentarily.
