A Crown Of Smoke And Ash - Sloane Murphy Page 0,77

flank, the roar from him breaks a part of me, and I fall deeper into that hole inside myself. I realize that should Roman fall, Echo will not survive it. I won’t let him, I’ll take his head myself. Traditions and laws be damned.

A snarl rips from me as Echo is thrown from Roman, and howls go up around the circle. Blood pours from the wound, but Roman doesn’t even limp. He just charges for Echo like a wolf possessed, tired of the dance, and letting the smaller wolf think he has a chance. Echo tries to maneuver out of the way, not realizing that was exactly what Roman wanted. The midnight wolf’s jaw clamps down on the neck of the smaller wolf, and a whine rings out across the space. All other noise ceases as Roman shakes Echo before pinning him. Giving him a chance to submit, rather than be killed. But Echo snarls and growls, showing his teeth. Roman growls back, and then a crack reverberates across the silence, and the smaller wolf goes limp, the glow of his eyes dimming to blackness.

Roman releases his hold on the wolf and steps back from the body. He howls and the entire pack joins, other than those who stood with Echo. The cry is filled with both triumph and sadness, goosebumps cover my body as it rings out around me. I swallow the lump that rises in my throat as Roman shifts and walks back to my side. I hug him tight, our bond restored, and his emotions hit me like a freight train. He didn’t want to kill the wolf. He’d hoped Echo would submit, but he did what he had to do. I tell him as much in a whisper against his ear before he pulls back.

“It is done!” he roars, and the pack roars back.

“It is not done!” Aryna screams across the pack, her eyes feral. “There is still one challenge standing.”

“Has there not been enough death today?” Thorn’s voice comes from behind me, and other pack members make their agreement known.

“The challenge was accepted, and so it shall be done,” Roman announces, looking directly at me.

I hand him my swords, keeping only two of my smaller obsidian daggers on my person. I don’t want to kill her, but if she doesn’t submit, I will.

I drop the hood of my cloak, before shedding it and handing that to Roman too, the moonlight making the clearing glow, and I hear the gasps as my mark is seen. The mark of Leviathan down my arm, but I shut it out. I feel the bond shut down between Roman and I as I give myself over to that darkness inside of me. The chill of it wraps around my very bones and settles into the fibers of who I am.

A dark smile graces my lips as I step toward the Lycan waiting for me.

“We’ll do this the human way,” she says, only her hands shifting, her long talons deadly, but I have no fear in this darkness. Just a resolute knowing.

I palm a dagger in each hand, and close my eyes taking a deep breath. I feel as she moves towards me, the shift is the air, even with my eyes closed, I know where she is. I drop as she slashes towards me, and I bring my dagger up, slicing the back of her thigh. I purposely used my obsidian blades, so as not to kill her, but I have iridium ones stashed away in the pile I just gave up, should she choose that path.

She hisses as my blade rips through her flesh, and howls go up around us. The sound muted, I feel the voices more than hear them. I stay crouched, waiting for her to attack again. Letting her get her aggression out, knowing she will grow tired. Vanity fuels her, not rage or hatred, or even the wanting of a better mate for her Alpha. She just thinks the place should have been hers, and it burns her that it wasn’t.

I smile up at her, and she lunges again. I duck and weave, letting her tire, nicking her with my blades as we go, just enough to make her bleed, but not enough to injure her fully. Playing with my prey is half the fun.

I fall further into the hole of darkness inside me as she tires, her breathing becoming labored, the blood loss getting to her as much as the exertion of the fight.