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I shrugged. ‘Testosterone.’
As much as it sucked, Liam and Archie were still on my list of potential Domini moles. Ireallydidn’t think it likely, but I was going to be sparing with essential information just in case. I didn’t need anyone knowing Tristan and Greg’s fight was little more than a ruse.
We folded into the two cars and Mack took to the skies. It didn’t take long to reach the pack’s favourite hunting grounds in the forest. It was helpful that it backed onto a film studio because anytime Common realmers saw weird shit, we could just yell ‘And scene!’ and pretend we were in the midst of filming. It worked every time.
We parked up and walked into the thickest part of the woods to the place where we had a small shack for storing clothes. Next to the hut was a clearing; it seemed as perfect a place as any for them to have this little skirmish.
Greg reached down to pull off his T-shirt but Tristan held out a hand. ‘Wait. There’s no rule that says we have to fight in wolf form. How aboutwe do it on two, man to man? The wolves don’t always have to get the fun.’ Plus, Tristan was a martial arts expert.
Greg grinned. ‘Let’s do it.’
Both men removed their weapons; this was a friendly bout but it was clear that they were taking it seriously. Tristan’s smile faded and, as he circled Greg, I recognised his urge to prove himself. I understood it, but his need was misplaced. Tristan was a martial arts teacher but Greg? Gregwasa martial art. The only thing that Tristan was going to prove was that he bled red. I rocked back, waiting to see what would surely be a spectacular fight.
The air was thick with tension as they faced each other. Their eyes locked and they assessed each other. Impatiently, Tristan moved first, his body a blur of motion as he closed the distance with a swift, powerful roundhouse kick towards Greg's head.
Greg was still grinning – he was enjoying himself. He ducked just in time to narrowly avoid the blow. Without missing a beat, he sprang back up and launched a hard jab at Tristan's ribs. Tristan twisted his torso, absorbing the blow with a grunt but maintaining his balance.
The two men broke again and circled, their feet shuffling on the ground, each looking for an opening. Tristan feinted a low kick in an attempt to draw down Greg's guard, but then he pivoted and launched a fierce elbowstrike at Greg's temple. Greg didn’t fall for the feint, and when Tristan struck he’d already raised an arm to block the blow. He retaliated swiftly with a knee to Tristan's midsection but Tristan was ready and deflected it with his thigh.
Greg’s grin had faded as fierce concentration took over. Oh boy. Despite my initial expectations, the men seemed to be pretty evenly matched and they traded blow for blow for several minutes. Then, in the midst of the fight, both of them started to smile again. They wereenjoyingthemselves.
‘Come on!’ I called. ‘We don’t have all day. Wrap it up!’
The smiles vanished. Greg stepped things up a gear and they exchanged a flurry of punches, then he lunged forward, grabbed Tristan's wrist and pulled him off balance. In one fluid motion, he spun behind Tristan and locked his arm around his throat in a chokehold.
Tristan struggled, his free hand clawing at Greg's arm as he tried to break the hold. Greg tightened his grip and his muscles strained as Tristan's movements grew more frantic. It was all kinds of wrong that I was getting a little hot under the collar watching how effortlessly Greg was holding his opponent in place.
But Tristan wasn’t done yet: he threw back his head and attempted to smash it into Greg's nose. Greg turnedhis head in time to avoid it. Tristan tried again to punch his beta but Greg still didn't let go of his hold; instead he shifted his weight and dragged Tristan to the ground with him.
They hit the floor hard in a tangled mess of limbs. Tristan bucked and twisted but Greg's grip was still iron clad. Greg shifted his position to wrap his legs around Tristan's waist and squeezed tighter. Tristan's struggle weakened; his breath was coming in ragged gasps.
‘First blood,’ I reminded Greg.
He gave a minute nod, transformed his hand into a claw and nicked Tristan’s skin. Blood welled up. I blinked in surprise: I didn’t know Greg had also been working on achieving a partial shift. Nice work!
He gave one last squeeze before letting Tristan go, then rolled away and got to his feet. Tristan lay on the ground heaving air into desperate lungs. Respectfully, we gave him a minute to regain his equilibrium.
When he stopped panting, Tristan did a neat little flip to a standing position. He nodded to Greg and his eyes held a little more respect than they had before. They had fought in the past but as wolves, and evidently he had thought he could beat Greg on two. With that question finally settled, any residual tension between them was completely gone.
Something good might have come out of Elliott’s presence after all.
Chapter 16
My phone flared to life as we drove back to the mansion. I didn’t recognise the number, but I swiped to answer all the same. ‘Lucy Barrett?’ A female voice enquired. It was vaguely familiar but I struggled to place it.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Pollyanna,’ she confirmed quietly.
I had to resist the urge to slide a glance at my brother, who was sitting awfully close to Noah in the back seat. ‘How can I help?’ I asked mildly.
‘It is more about howIcan helpyou,’ she said wryly. ‘Because of my time with Ben, I’ve seen some things. Things that you need to know about.’
‘Like needing the final-defence potion to save him?’
‘Like that,’ she agreed.
‘You broke his heart,’ I accused, keepingmy voice low.
