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“Stay safe, mate,” I ordered as I stalked into the battle zone, popping off round after round to clear my way.
My shifter hearing just managed to catch Silver’s cocky reply through the din. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m gonna light these sons of bitches on fire.”
As I took out my first victim, I grinned. That sounded about right. The Soul Reapers MC would burn this shithole to the ground and then my mate and I would accept our boon from the Goddess with nothing but joy in our hearts.
CARNAGE RESPLENDENT
Silver
Mongrel’s manic growl faded away at my back. My wolf whined, desperately wanting to be at his beta’s side. The Blood Moon was riding us both hard.
However, I wasn’t one to sit on my nuts while my brothers risked their lives for our cause, and neither was my bloodthirsty mate. Which was why I hadn’t offered a word of complaint when he’d pulled Mace to guard my back. While our Sgt. at Arms knew I could take care of myself in a rumble, Mongrel’s wolf demanded I had added protection as his unclaimed mate.
Compromise was the cornerstone of any healthy relationship and—Chaos or not—when the Prez of your MC gave you orders, you carried them through. Plus, this was a cause I took very fucking personally. Mongrel got that, even if all his animal wanted to do was tuck me away, safe in our den.
How had I gotten so lucky, landing a mate as good as Mongrel? The Gods only knew.
Though he’d been right to pull back when the Chaos first struck, the distance he’d forced between us had felt like silver razor blades shoved in my heart. But, as soon as this shit was done and we got back, I’d be claiming my mate. I wasn’t going to waste this chance. Who knew when the Chaos would grace us again? I’d throw him up against a wall and bite him good, right there and then, if I had to.
Mongrel was mine. My beta, my mate.
The whole fucking world would know the Blood Moon Goddess had bestowed such a gift upon me. Me. The pitiful stray whose own birth pack would rather have put him in the ground, than let him walk at their side as an equal. Luckily, I’d found a new pack in the Soul Reapers. And I worked hard every day to make sure I was worthy of it.
My wolf growled in my throat, more than ready to make good on my promise. In fact, he was clawing up my insides in a bid to dive into that melee.
To my beast, our role was simple. We should be at our mate’s side in battle.
It was taking everything I had to hold him back from forcing a change to do just that. As far as I was concerned, I was a fucking saint to be following Grimm’s orders and stay put on the outside of this brawl. It was time to turn my mind to the task at hand.
I had plans for this shit hole. Only scum profiteered from the skin trade. And those little bitches deserved every hellish lick I could land on their souls.
I scouted quickly around the perimeter of the clubhouse. The old farmhouse had soaked up so much pain over the years that misery wafted off its pitiful walls. The stench of hopelessness made my eyes water and felt like a physical punch to the gut. I ignored my discomfort. As an omega, I’d always been more sensitive than most. It was a blessing and a curse.
I scoffed at the state of their grounds.
To say the Bone Crushers were pigs was an understatement.
This MC was full of lazy, filthy, disgusting pigs who’d been running this racket so long, they thought they were invincible. My brothers would be wiping their asses tonight. And I was going to ensure every last thing they owned would burn down to the ground around them. It wouldn’t have been hard for Benji to ensure the things I needed were close at hand.
Trotting around the outside of the building, I patiently scoured the ground for what I knew would be discarded somewhere nearby. I flicked open the top of my trusty lighter. The comforting snick-hiss-click soothed my rising rage more sweetly than a lullaby. This old-fashioned bone-and-oak lighter, slightly stained in blood, was the only thing I’d kept from my former life. It lived tucked in the breast pocket of my cut and I used it to remind me that some beginnings were best left in ashes.
Mace jogged beside me, his piece drawn and at the ready.
Good man. Fresh and young, but loyal as hell. Kept his head in a fight, too, and didn’t make waves. I appreciated that in a brother. We had enough hot heads in the Soul Reapers that I had my work as the de facto peacekeeper cut out for me, so it was nice to have a friend with a bit of chill.
It was like the dumb fucks were begging me to let out the firebug inside. It wouldn’t have occurred to the Bone Crushers to shore up their defenses before the auction, nor to clean up behind themselves. Which was fine by me. Lazy meant there would be useful things lying about. Like the canister of gas—stowed by our inside man—which I was sure I’d spied on our way in.
Ah, there it was. I kicked the can gently with my foot. It sloshed. Sure enough, the can was plenty full. No one would’ve batted an eye when the prospect had tossed it into the long-dead grass after topping off his ride. Plus there were plenty of broken and unbroken beer bottles on hand. Perfect.
I moved my supplies to the shadows hugging the nearest side of the clubhouse, crouching beside a conveniently broken window. Ripping my shirt off over my head, I quickly tore it into shreds and set up the unbroken bottles in a neat little line. I kept one of the broken ones on hand in case I got lucky enough to cut a bitch.
Once I’d poured in the campfire fluid, I stuffed a strip down the neck of each and grinned at Mace as he tucked his piece away. “Ready to light ‘em up, brother?”
“Fuck, yeah,” he growled.
His wolf blazed eagerly in his eyes. My friend didn’t enjoy being benched because he was young, any more than I did because I was an omega. Sometimes, the dominants just couldn’t help themselves. In their hearts and minds, they didn’t consider us less than, but their animals felt the need to protect their packmates all the same.
I lit the first two Molotov cocktails and handed them off to him.
