“You,” she hissed, narrowing her gaze at Rigor. “You! How could you do this? How could you? What would your female think?”
The wolf stiffened, and it became apparent the two knew each other. “Is this your mate?” he asked quietly.
Doc shoved away from Magic and ran to Owyn, ignoring his panting pleas for her to stay where she was.
“Yes,” she growled, kneeling in the dirt to examine his fucked up hand.
“It’s just one finger, Doc,” Owyn managed. “Go inside.”
She shook her head, frantic. “Where is it? I can reattach it if we hurry.”
But a whistle from the wrecker told them there wouldn’t be any reattaching. And worse, Owyn was about to lose another finger.
Fucking hell. Fucking cock-sucking hell.
Pushing his pain down, Owyn stood to his feet. They wouldn’t take anymore from him while he was on his knees. And if Gash’s freedom cost him every damn one of his fingers, he’d pay that price. His panther was willing, and so was he.
Meeting Rigor’s gaze, Owyn held his injured hand out willingly this time.
“Do what’cha gotta do, asshole. But it’s like Magic said… Gash is ours.”
Chapter Twelve
There were times when Rigor felt justified in his crimes. Where he weighed shit on his own scales of justice and things seemed pretty damn even. Times where the ends justified the means, and if he kept his head straight, he could make some good come of the matter.
Then there were times like this, when every move he made felt like the wrong one and his heart turned a little blacker with each action.
He stared at the panther’s outstretched hand, his mind reeling. The male was mated to the doctor. The one who’d come through for him at the worst time in his life. The one who’d kept his unborn young alive when Eva was bleeding out from the wounds the hunters gave her.
Rigor glanced at his second in command. Traxler was a solid brother, even if his outward appearance begged to differ. He’d follow Rigor’s lead, always. He was the most trustworthy of the dogs. But he also had the truest moral compass.
His dark eyes were wary as he stared hard at Rigor, confirming what he already knew to be true: Nothing justified taking something away from the doctor who’d given him so much.
So no one was more surprised than Rigor when he brought the bolt cutters up to the panther’s next finger.
He’d tried to go easy on the male, taking the fingers from his non-dominant hand. But it wasn’t enough to assuage Rigor’s guilt.
And yet, he was going to take another one.
“No,” the doctor said. “You can’t do this.”
“Gash can stop this at any time, cat,” Rigor snapped.
“What happened to you?” she breathed. “How did you become… this? I hope to fucking god your son doesn’t grow up to be like his father.”
Her words clawed at the space behind his eyes. His son. He wanted so much more for him. But it would never happen until Rigor could have his revenge, until he could move past what happened to Eva.
“I hope he doesn’t either.” Rigor let the honesty come through, and it was the first right thing he’d done since he stepped foot on the cats’ property.
His shitty scales tipped a hair in the right direction, but everything was still ass-up fucked.
“Goddamn it,” the clan leader muttered. “You take another finger off my man and this little show is over, ya hear. We fight.”
Rigor glanced at the cats. They were furious, mad enough to murder, and only holding their ground because they’d been ordered to. There was six of them, eyes flashing with how close their animals were to turning, and one human with a firearm. They’d have to take him out first to keep from getting shot. And there were more inside.
Rigor widened the cutters to get a good grip. Maybe if he got the cat right at the knuckle, the doctor would have a better chance at fixing the damage.
He was resigned to the fact that things were about to get even uglier. With a deep breath, he squeezed—
“Stop,” Gash roared, bringing everyone’s head around. “Enough, Rig. Enough.”
Gash stared at his new leader, who was fuming at the white flag treatment. He didn’t want to be giving in. He wanted blood. Rigor recognized the look.
“I’ll go with him. Felix won’t stop. It’ll keep going like this until people get killed.” His eyes flashed back to the lodge and instinctually, Rigor knew there was a female in there with Gash’s name on her.
Rigor grinned at getting what he needed without having to become more of a monster for it. Gash strolled forward, ignoring the protests from his clan.
“Load up,” Rigor called to his pack, and they let out an obnoxious howl.