Blooded

Sean still had me around the middle, but I squirmed in his grasp, trying to break the hold, which was a big mistake. I hadn’t accounted for his new sharp claws. As I moved, they raked along my sides, slicing me open. I stopped moving and angled my head toward him. More wolf than human stared back. Fur covered his face, highlighting his nasty glowing eyes. This could be it. His strength was enhancing by the second. I had only one thing left in my survival arsenal. There was no playing dead now.

Instead of thrashing, I stilled completely.

Sean grinned at me, thinking I’d given up.

I gathered my focus, lifted my head, and directed my full stare at him. I steeled myself, locking on to his eyes and not letting go. On those rare occasions when I’d gone up against betas in the past, I’d learned my visual cues could intimidate them. They would’ve died rather than admit the real reason, but they usually backed down, always citing something else for ending the fight. In their minds, it would be physically impossible for a female to have a higher status, so the notion simply didn’t exist for them. They walked away convinced they had ended it for a good reason. I let them.

I had no idea if it would work on Sean, who was clearly alpha-born, but it was all I had left. Sean’s gaze locked on mine, his body becoming rigid, whether he wanted it to or not. As a wolf, he couldn’t simply look away from a visual challenge. I steadied myself and peered as hard as I could into his soul.

Sean’s eye sparked a half beat before he reacted.

He broke his gaze first, tearing his eyes off mine, roaring like a beast underwater. He tossed me away from him with enough force to send me sailing, his nails ripping through my chest. I reeled, jarred silly, losing blood from my new wounds fast. I swam for what I hoped like hell was the surface.

I erupted with a splash, screaming for air. “Gahhh.” I took in as much air as I could, hyperventilating with the need to fill my lungs and clear them at the same time. “Ohmigod.” I sputtered, coughing. I whipped around in a circle, bracing myself for the next blow, craning my head around in circles, trying to spot where Sean was going to emerge.

I kicked in a circle, still glancing around. After a few more breaths, I ducked back underwater. I wasn’t going to take any stupid chances by swimming back to shore with an angry werewolf on my heels. Much better to fight him head-on than to be jumped from behind. Surprises could kill, and between drowning and bleeding out, I had enough to worry about.

I spotted a large object floating in the distance. It was hard to see in the murky green water, so I kicked closer. It was Sean. He was in the midst of a full change, drifting toward the bottom of the lake. I watched for a second as he morphed and shifted, sending currents of movement through the water as his body became something else entirely.

I punched for the surface.

He likely wasn’t going to die down there, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. A werewolf could die only if his spinal column was broken or severed, thus cutting off all communication from his brain to his body. I had no idea if, in his wolf form, Sean would regain consciousness in the water, but it would be silly to wait to find out. The one thing I’d never done was fight a wolf in his true from.

That was a battle I didn’t have an ass-chance of winning.

On nights the wolves shifted, I stayed in my room. A command I never disobeyed. My father took no chances when he had a large group to contain, not with me, and not with the humans who lived in the towns nearest to us. It was a very well-oiled operation.

Having a wolf lose this much control, enough to shift uncontrollably like Sean was doing, was highly unusual. Once a man became a wolf, he had to prove mastery over his wolf, which was called Dominion. His human side had to prove stronger than his wolf side. It was absolute. Sometimes it took a long time for young wolves to learn, but they did eventually. Or they weren’t allowed to live. Sean had just proven he did not have full Dominion over his wolf, which would be a very bad thing for him indeed—if fighting with me hadn’t already signed his death warrant.

I started to swim. As I focused in front of me for the first time, I could see figures running down to the dock and gathering on the embankment in front of the lodge. I was in the middle of the lake.

It took me a long time to reach shore.

Nobody came to assist me.

It was better that way. I didn’t need the remaining wolves to think I was any weaker than I was. I aimed for ground because it was closer than the dock. When my feet finally touched the mucky weeds, I dragged my body upright, staggering.

Once I hit the small shoreline, I collapsed.

So much for the stoic tough-girl facade.

The first three faces I saw hovering above me were those of my father, my brother, and James, which was a relief. I rolled onto my side, coughing violently, choking up a fountain of water. My stomach was in knots. It felt like half the lake sloshed around inside my gut.

When I could finally breathe again, I rolled onto my back. It took supreme effort. The concerned faces still loomed above me, nobody saying anything. Blood leaked from the claw wounds, tracing down my sides. The damage inflicted by Sean was clearly more severe than I’d realized in the water. I didn’t want to look at it.

Tyler stepped up first. “What the f**k was going on out there? Was that Sean with you?”

“Yes, it was Sean,” I said, coughing. “He’s shifting somewhere at the bottom at the moment.”

Tyler’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, Jess. We just figured out what was going on. Danny realized you were in trouble when he came out and heard splashing. We got down here in time to see you and Sean go under for the last time, and then you came back up and started swimming.” One of my allies would’ve had to have heard the commotion, because even if the other wolves had heard me—which I’m certain they had—none of them would’ve rung the alarm. Nick had been too far away to hear. I’m sure Sean had known all those factors and had planned accordingly to give himself a good chance at success.

My father lowered himself to one knee and very gingerly spread open my mangled T-shirt to expose the wounds on my stomach and side. He stared at the bloody gashes without speaking, without betraying a single emotion. Then, to my surprise, he reached out and tenderly brushed a piece of wet hair away, his fingers hesitant, lingering on my face for a long moment. He traced the outline of my cheek with the pad of his thumb, and only when his hand fell away did I see the tips were covered in blood. My blood.

His eyes shot completely violet in the space of a breath. He looked away, his mouth thinning in a hard line.