Page 39 of Destined Mate

He lunged, unrelenting, closing the distance in a heartbeat before Elmer had time to react. With a decisive snap, his jaws clamped around Elmer’s throat, lethal and unyielding, ending the challenge as abruptly as it began.

Elmer struggled for an instant, wild eyes rolling. Then his body went limp in Wesley’s hold—a clear surrender acknowledged by every wolf present.

Wesley released him with deliberate control, standing over the defeated alpha and howling. The dominance in the sound rang heavy and unmistakable in the silence that followed.

The moonlight danced off his white fur, illuminating the blood that coated his muzzle and dripped onto the ground. Around him, torches blazed, sending plumes of smoke into the air and casting shadows.

Several of the assembled wolves let out low whines of submission, their postures shifting to acknowledge the new order. Keith, Theo, and Duncan mirrored their alpha’s triumph with howls that cut across the night like arrows, piercing and proud.

Elmer shifted back to human form, clutching at his neck where deep gashes bled still. He cast a venomous look at Wesley.

Wesley shifted back as well. His skin glistened under sweat and moonlight, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of battle, but already steady with relief and exhilaration.

Once finished, his relief was palpable. It’d been much bloodier and had lasted longer than he’d thought it would.

“Challenge over!” Keith yelled. “Alpha Elmer has submitted! Alpha Wesley Valentino of the Moonshadow Pack of San Diego, California, has won!”

The pack went nuts. There were screams, shouts, and high-fives.

Wesley turned toward where Jerome stood on the platform.

Alpha Elmer rose on his elbows and turned to look at where Clyde and Albert stood. He nodded weakly.

A look of horror crossed Jerome’s face.

Frowning, Wesley looked back over his shoulder as the two betas of Alpha Elmer’s wolves shifted. Clothes ripped and floated to the ground. Snarls filled the air as they sprang toward the circle. Someone shouted.

Wesley swore, then shifted into a hybrid form that very few alpha wolves had just as Clyde hit him, going straight for his throat. He howled, the sound pure anger. Reason retreated until only the primitive drive of the hybrid remained.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

A scream cut through the night as he grabbed Clyde’s jaw and ripped the bottom half off. More screams. More growls. Horrible baying and whimpering.

Albert attacked and Wesley dodged the slashing claws, turned, and thrust his hand into Albert’s back. Albert’s scream echoed off the stone walls, full of pain.

Grabbing his spine, Wesley jerked it out and held it aloft.

Elmer weakly jumped to his feet and tried to run, and Wesley leaped. Thanks to the power in his back legs, he landed in front of Elmer. This time, when he took Elmer’s neck into his massive jaws, he ripped his throat out.

Alpha Elmer’s scream faded into nothingness as he dropped to the ground.

Wesley shifted back into his human form. The glowing eyes of onlookers watched his every move. Death surrounded him as he stood in the center of the circle.

Even though the other alpha and his betas had paid the ultimate price, he hadn’t come out of it without some damage,either. His blood soaked into the ground, staining the earth a dark crimson.

It was a fitting end to his hard-fought victory. Now he was truly part of the land for which he’d fought and claimed.

Not all his wounds had healed when he’d shifted. He needed food and another shift to repair the remaining damage that he could see through the blood and gore that painted his naked flesh.

Even his hair clung to his skull, blood dripping down his back.

He let out a deafening roar of victory that shook the night, the sound a stark warning to any shifters within earshot that they were trespassing on his land.

Having made his point, Wesley’s gaze swept across the circle, making eye contact with every member of the pack he’d just taken control of. Then his gaze fell on Jerome, and the omega shivered underneath the intensity of that gaze.

But it wasn’t from fear. The scent of honeysuckle filled the air. It was from desire.

Warm blood dribbled into Wesley’s eyes, stinging and blurring his vision as he carelessly wiped it away with the back of his hand. But he never broke eye contact with Jerome. Then he licked his fingers and smiled. He felt his dimples pop out, and Jerome gasped.

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