“You two need a moment for good-bye kisses?” Shane asked.
Jericho inched in close and lowered his voice. “Look, Wheeler, we both know you love a good fight, but this one’s mine.”
“You don’t have official claim on Izzy.”
“I’ve had claim on that girl for decades. Just get in the car.”
Wheeler stalked toward the Camaro and got in, slamming the door and staring through the windshield as he moved his mouth, talking to himself.
Jericho turned to face his enemy. “Put down the gun and let’s do this.”
A crooked smile curved up Shane’s cheek as he put the safety back on the gun and set it on the ground. “Only one animal walks out alive, so feel free to put your tail between your legs and go back home. I don’t fight for honor or fun—I fight to kill.” He kicked off his motorcycle boots and unlatched his belt. “And by the way, I’m not a wolf.”
***
Wheeler gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Maybe it was Jericho’s fight, but a pack fought together. Then again, what dignity would Jericho have if someone else won his battles? Wheeler didn’t understand the whole “fighting for love” bit, except it must have been some irrational instinct in their wolves that couldn’t be controlled. No woman was worth dying for, except his mother.
He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. Jericho approached Shane and must have been at least a foot taller than the man. Through the open window, a smoky scent hung in the air, as if someone had been burning trash. Threats turned into curses and the men circled each other, eyes alight and lips peeled back. Without warning, Jericho shifted. His wolf stood on top of a pile of clothes, teeth bared and body stiff, ready to attack.
At first, Wheeler thought Shane might go for the gun. Maybe his animal was a deer and he just talked a good game. Wheeler tensed, ready to jump out of the car if that dumb shit decided to do something stupid. Instead, he shifted, and Wheeler spat out a curse.
Shane was a black bear.
Had he been a grizzly, this would have quickly escalated into a pack fight. Luckily, the bear wasn’t as big as some that Wheeler had seen in his time. That didn’t make his sharp claws and teeth any less capable of tearing through flesh and cutting bone, though.
They circled each other beneath a canopy of moonlight, the fierce bear swiping his massive paw as Jericho’s wolf bowed his head, seeking an angle of attack. He pounced a few times, snarling and growling, testing the bear’s reflexes.
Once a Shifter lost control to his animal, his mind would sleep. Only some of the alphas had retained the ability to remember the shift and maintain some level of control. The rest were at the mercy of their animal.
Wheeler anxiously watched Jericho’s wolf snapping at the bear’s legs. He must have gotten a good bite because the bear suddenly roared, stretching out his neck and silencing every living creature within earshot.
Bingo. The wolf lunged, shaking and thrashing his head in violent motions after locking on to the animal’s neck. The bear swiped his paw and the wolf yelped, leaping back with a limp.
“Jesus, Jericho. Come on. You got this,” Wheeler whispered to himself.
The circling and quick attacks continued for several exhausting minutes. Wheeler almost pulled a cigarette out, except he didn’t smoke. His phone suddenly went off, playing “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC.
“Dammit, Reno, not now,” he murmured, turning off his phone.
When the wolf charged from the opposite side, the bear whipped his head around and took a nasty bite out of the canine’s shoulder. The wolf scurried around him, and Wheeler could see blood matted in his fur. Probably a combination of both of theirs, but he couldn’t tell since the bear’s fur looked like black satin in the moonlight.
Each animal moved with merciless grace, seeking a bite on an artery that would draw blood and weaken his opponent. It splattered on the concrete driveway like black rain. Wheeler didn’t know if Jericho’s wolf had ever faced a bear, but he sure as hell gained some mad respect for his brother. He’d never seen Jericho so calculated, so bloodthirsty, so vicious.#p#分页标题#e#
When Jericho’s wolf went for the jugular, the bear suddenly twisted around and grabbed him with both paws. Wheeler could no longer see his brother—only a mass of fur and muscle.
His heart raced, damn near cracking a rib as hard as it was pounding against his chest. Wheeler flung the door open and stood immobile, holding on to the frame of the window, trying to decide what action to take. Instinct dictated he should fight with his pack, but Jericho would never forgive him for stripping away his honor. Sometimes that’s all a man had. That idiot was about to die for a woman who wasn’t even his mate.