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In an onslaught of his remaining concentrated strength, Jonah swiped furiously at Jude’s leg, digging repeatedly into muscle and clawing sinew. Jude could feel the blood spilling over, could feel himself weakened as he limped away.
He could see how much this enraged Graham, who now took the opportunity to bite into Travers’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he could hear Graham whisper.
Travers bit back, attempting to dig into Graham’s ear. But Graham pinned him back to the ground as he dug in further.
There was no grace to any of this. Jude knew that Graham had come to the grim realization that he would have to take his opponent’s life. It had to be done. Jude could see the remorse in Graham’s contorted features, his fur matted in blood.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Jonah said gleefully, from out of Jude’s right ear. “Bon appetit!”
Jude was tackled suddenly to the ground, and he could feel Jonah trying to bite into him, his muzzle reaching for Jude’s chest. With all his strength, Jude held him back, but to no avail. In a flash, Jonah snapped into Jude’s chest, tearing into his flesh with his teeth.
His eyesight faded in and out as pain started to overwhelm his senses. If he let Jonah get any further, Jonah would surely end his life, and with it, Delilah’s freedom.
He didn’t want Delilah to fear for her own safety. He didn’t want her to feel like a refugee any longer. “No!” Jude screamed, using his hind leg to throw Jonah off balance.
He desperately clung to life, feeling his strength wane. In the distance, he could hear Delilah’s panicked yelps, her eyes brimming with tears. Jude realized he needed to embody a different side of himself. Fully grasping the ruthlessness of his opponent, who would not hesitate to kill, he tapped into a similar ferocity. The kind, reserved Jude receded, replaced by an unleashed, primal ferocity.
“Sorry, buddy,” Jude said to his imagined better half. “We’re going back a bit.”
He could see Jonah and Graham attempting to understand his words, as he leaped forward. With calculated animosity, he drove his jaws into Jonah’s neck, twisted, and snapped.
With his dying breath, Jonah wheezed, “Well done, beta. I knew you were just like me.” He let out a final rasp, a final sputter of blood leaking from his lips before the life faded from his eyes.
What had he done? He stared down at the pavement, his eyes unblinking and heart pumping uncontrollably. He expected to see everybody’s terrified stares when he looked up. He expected them to reject him as a savage.
He had taken a life, and he had done so casually. It broke everything he stood for. Why had he ever agreed to this fight?
Jude tried to still his heartbeat. He was losing blood at a rapid rate, and it would do no good if he died here. The match would be a stalemate. He and Jonah, both dying in vain.
He looked down at his opponent’s lonely body, and as he closed his eyes, he felt pity for Jonah, left there to die alone.
Jude sighed. He remembered that night, the last night of the Sable pack, when he had barely survived the assault from the attacking pack. The night on which he had watched his friends and family die. He remembered what he had done—and what he had blocked out.
Reopening his eyes, he realized that he never had to be that man anymore. He had hidden his cruelty well, and now, he would bury it with Jonah.
Jude looked to Graham. His alpha stood over his own vanquished opponent, and was staring back at Jude. He expected the look to be full of deep revulsion at what he had unleashed, what he had become. But what he was met with instead was a deep sorrowful look of understanding. Turning to Delilah, he could only see relief in her eyes.
“Come bury your dead, Deacon!” Graham had shouted it, but it wasn’t intended to be callous. Jude almost thought he heard Graham fighting back tears as he said it.
There was no glory in this. Today, they would celebrate this occasion, celebrate Delilah’s freedom. But she had been victimized by a cruel, uncaring law, twisted by a sick man hellbent on devaluing and objectifying her.
And as happy as Jude was to finally be with Delilah—for her to finally feel safe—he just felt sad that men like this would still bend the old laws. He felt sad that women like Delilah had to go through any of this at all.
Chapter 32
Delilah
“It’sover,”Mirandasaid,breathing a sigh of deep relief.
Delilah didn’t believe it. So much tension still lingered in the air. From the looks on Graham’s and Jude’s faces, it hadn’t seemed like a victory to them at all. They looked like they had come back from war.
She felt deep sympathy for them. She wanted to be there by their side, comforting them.
“Come bury your dead, Deacon!” Graham cried out, a sorrow shaking from his feet through his body.
She caught something out of the corner of her eye, a rush of fur, moving too quickly for her to react. As she turned her head, Clark charged at her in a moment of desperation. Had he planned this all along?
But before she could react, Miranda moved left and forward, intercepting his path and pinning him to the ground. “You’re a fucking snake, you know that?” Miranda spat. “Your own uncle just died, and you’re still more concerned about your ego than giving him an honorable burial?”
