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Deranged. I had been called that many times. Insane, unstable. I didn’t understand. I had only ever killed those who needed to be removed from the world to keep the balance of light and darkness.
Was it my fault there were so very many who needed killing?
I had doubted myself, at times. When I had taken more pleasure in the slaughter than my mother would have approved. When I had made beautiful sculptures of the bones of the fallen, lapped up their spilled blood after I followed the Moon Mother’s call to do Her justice.
But now I knew. If I was broken, it was for her good. My Flor, my brilliant, sparkling mate. She was light and fire and all that was good in a weeping world. For her, I would be the darkness.
I would be the shadow that killed without hesitation.
24
Fighting for Her
LUKE
The flickering lanterns that surrounded the training ring added their light to the full moon, throwing shadows across the dusty ground as I fought for my life.
And for hers.
My little mate lay unconscious at the side of the ring, though the scent of her blood was thick on the air. Blood and dust, fear and rage, and the faintest hint of jasmine and cinnamon swirled around me, distracting me at inopportune moments as I battled the Alpha who’d tortured me for years.
He was enormous, his wolf form oversized from years of shifting regularly and eating bigger and better meals than anyone else in the pack. My own wolf was weak and slow, and the only thing that kept me from getting my throat torn out in the first few seconds of the fight was my father’s overconfidence. Well, that and his complete lack of respect for me and my wolf.
He sent waves of his Alpha dominance toward me, trying to force me to submit to him. Instead, I backed away, head low, ears back. In my human form, I was nowhere near capable of standing against him. He’d made sure of that by preventing me from training with the other Enforcers long enough, by forbidding me to shift for longer and longer periods.
He lunged again, at my flank, and I leaped up, avoiding his teeth at the last moment, weariness setting in as he continued his efforts to drown me under his dominance. The staples that had held my wound closed had torn free when I shifted, and I was bleeding sluggishly from the wound Flor had given me.
My vicious, phenomenal mate. All that kept me from faltering was her presence and the knowledge that if I failed, she would die.
She had no friends in this pack, but the shifters from the other packs were protecting her, shielding her from the Southerners who would take advantage of her weakness. I had no real friends either, in or out of the pack. The unranked wolves didn’t trust me, of course. The ranked ones didn’t respect me.
The worst of those, Van Blackside, yelled from the side of the ring, “You can’t beat your father, boy. Give up now.”
I snarled, dodging another blow. Father? My wolf had never seen Callaway as a father. He’d killed my uncle, and for all I knew, he’d killed my parents as well. I growled at the thought, as Callaway darted in, jaws wide. I met his attack, my teeth tearing skin on his muzzle, though his did far more damage to mine before we both withdrew.
Blood splattered the dirt below us, and I noted with some satisfaction that he was tiring as well. He came at me again and again, and I met his attacks with more speed, more brutal counters. Was I winning?
Van shouted from the ringside, “You stupid little fuck. Just die already!” and a memory was unleashed.
Except for the Alpha, the entire pack had gathered for the full moon run, all the mature shifters standing in the center of the clearing still in their human forms, and the younger ones—though there weren’t many of us—off to one side, with a few Enforcers close by to keep us in line. It wasn’t necessary. All the young shifters knew to stay still, stay quiet, and stay low when the rest of the wolves were getting ready to run.
But the moon was already high, and the pack was growing restless since the Alpha hadn’t arrived to start the run.We all knew where he was and what he was doing. We could hear the grunts and moans, and smell the odors of sex filtering through the screened windows of the Pack House. Farther off, we could hear the muted screams of another woman.
We all ignored those, except for one of the youngest of us.
“Mama!” The little girl, Flor, was no more than a toddler, skinny legs and arms attached to a belly, and ratty red hair tangled around a dirty, blackberry-stained face. “Mama hurt!”
She was right. It was her mama screaming. I wanted to go to her, pick her up and comfort her. But as the Alpha Heir, I had to stand with the other children of ranked wolves, waiting at attention until the run began, no matter what.
“Mama!” The toddler broke free of the teenager who’d been holding her arm, and flung herself across the ring, just as Van Blackside stepped backward.She collided with the back of his legs, and he tripped, falling over his own legs and over her. Someone in the crowd laughed.
Flor squealed and tried to get away, but he grabbed her by the arm and was shaking her so hard, her head flopped back and forth. “You stupid little fuck! You’ll pay for that.”
I was too far away to stop what came next, though I called out, “No!” as Van took off his belt and began beating the toddler, his arm rising and falling again and again. I stepped out of line, and suddenly, the mature Enforcers on both sides of me had my arms in unbreakable holds, while I struggled.
“Not worth it, Luke,” one of them grunted when I kicked his shin. “He’ll kill you. Your dad ain’t here to stop him.”
Flor was screaming louder than the far-away woman now, though, and her cries pierced my heart as the belt fell faster and faster, Van’s eyes lit up with an unholy glee.
