Page 75 of Pack Rage
“Why?” I asked, truly curious. Father blinked. “He was a broken tool. You’d promised him Tana, and didn’t deliver. I wonder what the Alpha of Novosibirsk will think when he learns you can’t deliver her to him either? She’s gone,” I said in Russian, just in case. “I helped her escape, but not even I know where she is now. She’s safe from you and your deals. Not that it matters. I’m sure you wrote some back door into the contract with him. You always do.”
The Russians’ eyes moved to Father, all of them narrowing with suspicion. One of them asked me, “This is true?”
“It is. He is not a wolf, but a fox. Very careful to make agreements he can easily escape. I should know; he taught me how to do it as well, and I used all I learned to make sure my sister is far beyond his reach.”
Father shrank back for a split second when the tallest Russian growled at him. Then he lunged for me. “I should havedrowned you as a pup,” he snarled, just before his sword met mine.
“You tried,” I reminded him, almost laughing at the weak blow. I’d grown stronger than him long ago.
“You’re a traitor to your pack. To the Council.” He backed away, looking for a better angle to attack. The Russians had widened the circle, to give him room.
“No, I’m a protector,” I replied, remembering Flor’s whispered thought. “Killing you is protecting this pack. Taking back the Council you stole is justice for all the packs. The moon’s justice.”
He laughed out loud. “I tried to beat that sentimental, sanctimonious shit out of you, but it seems I failed. You were born a fool, and you’re about to die one. This pack will never be yours.”
I wasn’t sure what he’d been waiting for, but all I could think wasgood.Something hardened in his gaze, and he lunged forward.
Even if he wasn’t as strong as me, he was fast, and exceptionally skilled as a fighter. We hadn’t sparred in years, though, and he hadn’t been practicing, or learning new skills. His moves were predictable, and I avoided his first strikes without breaking a sweat. I was faster, having learned a few things at Northern—and at Southern—he wouldn’t be ready for. I pulled out a series of kicks Sergeant had taught me, with a spinning roundhouse that connected with Father’s knee.
The crack of the patella breaking was louder than the grunt he let out as he hopped back on his good leg. His eyes narrowed, and as he inhaled, I could tell he was pulling on the pack bonds to heal. He shook his leg out and attacked with a series of open hand strikes so fast, I couldn’t track them, only use what I knew of his style to avoid most of the hits.
Neither one of us spoke as we fought, though I had a feeling I’d need to land a few more mental blows before he would make a mistake severe enough for me to secure the advantage. But distractions were all around. When Father broke away after I’d landed a blow to his face, blinding him for a split second with the blood, I lost focus as surely as he had, but not from a strike.
“Brand!” Flor’s scream came a split second before Glen’s shout for his mother, and at the exact moment that a gut-churning wave of agony tore through the bond inside me.
Back in the ring’s center, Brand was being attacked. I barely held onto my sword, staggering drunkenly as the pain started and stopped in the next instant.
Fuck.Fuck!He had closed off the bonds so that we wouldn’t feel what was happening.
I had to get to him, had to save him. Save all of us.
I wrenched my focus back to the fight I was in, and swiped out in front of me with my sword… to find no one there. Father was fleeing, leaving a trail of blood and cowardice as he retreated behind the Russians. None of them moved as they watched my father’s retreat, their eyes filled with disgust and judgment as they heard his call of, “Finish him.”
It was too much to hope that they would let me chase him down and finish the fight, though. As one, they stepped forward, nodding and unsheathing their own blades.
I had one hope of winning this fight. I called out to Grigor, sending a demand through my blood.
I needed his power, all of it he could spare, and I needed itnow.
Chapter 36
Lines Crossed
FLOR
As Finn’s father talked himself hoarse about how his son had failed him, something had happened. I’d started to feel… stretched inside, like an overfilled balloon. What was filling me wasn’t air, though, or water, or anything so safe or neutral.
It was rage in its purest form, similar to the feeling that had blanked out my mind and made time stand still in battle for me before. My head pounded, my eyes ached, my vision grew red-tinged, and my gums burned as my fangs descended slightly.
Kill them all,my wolf encouraged.Use me again.
Use me again? Those three words had me hesitating. So it had been her, during those battles. Her wildness, her strength and fearlessness. Her magic.
Yes. Kill them all.She was so certain she could do it, cut down every one of the shifters who stood in this circle with us, beginning with Ivan and Aidan, and ending with Elina like the cherry on top of a murder sundae. But that single-mindedness was something Del had trained me to fight against. He’d taught me to think about battles before I fought. Run when I had to.Hide. Plan, so that I would walk away, and my enemies would not.
A soft, muffled sob caught my attention. Vanya had fallen to the ground when Aidan strutted past like a fucking power vacuum, jabbering like a pompous fool in front of the Russian general, and stealing almost every scrap of her energy with a careless wave in her direction.
Del and Sergeant had taught me to plan so that the innocent didn’t get caught in the fighting.
