Page 297 of Claimed By the Rival Alpha
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Lance asked.
“Since we’re on training grounds, why don’t we spar and talk?”
Again, Lance raised his eyebrows. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he considered my offer. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Why not?”
We dropped into fighting stances, our fists up.
“So, you’re sending that poor guy to look through paperwork?” Lance asked. “You talking about the papers the Redwolfs were hoarding in their office?”
I jabbed at his shoulder, but he blocked. “You know about it?”
“Course I do.” He ducked another jab. “But you’re not going to find anything interesting.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You have to ask?” He kicked at my right leg. I stepped out of the way.
“So you’ve looked through them then. You must have been pretty high up in the Redwolfs’ ranks if they let you see those documents.”
His eyebrow twitched, and the following punch he aimed at my jaw was sharper than needed in a sparring session.
“What are you getting at, Night?”
I noticed he’d left off the alpha honorific. It bothered the hell out of me, but at the same time, I wondered if Lance was just trying to get a rise out of me. If so, it wouldn’t work. I had a goal, and I wouldn’t let him convince me to change the subject. The kick I aimed at his upper body was also sharper than necessary. Of course, he blocked it.
“I’m asking for your help.”
He laughed. “Really? You? I’m surprised you’d want to work with me.”
“Believe me, you weren’t my first choice.”
“That does not surprise me.” He smirked. “So, what do you want to know?”
“I want thenames,” I emphasized my words with punches, “of the wolves who might be working withTroy, and I want to know which wolves are mostresistantto the pack merger.” I kicked again, faster this time. “I want anything you know that can help.” I huffed when my leg zipped through the air where his head was a moment before.
“You know, you’re asking for help,” he said, “but you’re acting like you’re trying to beat me, not spar with me.”
I smirked. “No idea what you mean.”
“Ha. Liar.” He lunged at me, grabbing hold of my shirt.
I jerked back, and my shirt tore. As bits of cotton drifted away in the wind, Lance and I looked at each other. All pretense of this being a training session had disappeared the moment we heard the fabric tear. It wasn’t first blood, but it was close enough.
Lance grinned. “First point’s mine.”
“The next point won’t be.”
When we stepped toward each other again, we didn’t speak—talking would waste breath. He jumped around, light on his feet. His attacks were quicker, perfectly accurate. When I went harder to get him off his game, he smirked and matched my ferocity. He was so fast, all I could do was duck and weave between attacks. I stepped back, trying to get space between us, but he closed the distance. I had a greater arm span than him. If he gave me the inches I needed, this would be over quick. Lance knew that.
He was a much tougher fighter than Peter or Xavier. The only other man who matched me was Dom, and that was only because he’d known me for years and knew all my tricks. This guy had never fought me before, but he anticipated my every move and countered it. He was resilient and smart, not a man to underestimate, and Ihatedhaving to admit that.
Lance closed in again and grabbed at my tattered shirt. Yanking me closer, he lifted me. He was going to put me on the ground to get me on my back, but there was no fucking way I would let him get the advantage.
So, I let him pull me against him, but when he got me on the ground, I gripped his wrist and yanked until I could wrap my legs around his arm. By the time the dust settled, we were both on the ground, but his elbow was locked in place.
“Yield!” I demanded, my muscles holding him firmly in place.
“Fuck you!” Lance growled as he tried to push himself to his knees. If he got to his feet, he might have the leverage to get out of my hold.
