Thea, Alpha Female of Pack MacLennan, and Richard, Son of Alpha Canid. Richard Canid,” Callie spoke, keeping her expression impressively neutral, “Thea MacLennan charges you with assault, kidnap, and causing danger to Pack MacLennan’s safety. Do you answer the charge?”
“I do,” he bit out, glowering at Thea.
“Thea MacLennan”—Callie turned to her, her eyes now burning with pride—“you challenge Richard Canid to a fight of submission only, is this correct?”
“Yes.” Thea nodded at her.
Callie’s eyes said, “Then kick his arse,” but her mouth addressed the crowd. “Let the Challenge begin.”
She stepped out of the way just as Richard shot toward Thea.
He was not fast. Okay, he was faster than a human, but lumbering for a wolf.
Thea easily sidestepped his running punch.
Richard made a feral sound, whirling to face her, and then he did what all dishonorable bastards would do. He grabbed a handful of sand and flung it at her eyes. Blinking against the sting of the salt, Thea heard the crowd hiss seconds before she felt the blinding punch. Pain shot up her cheekbone as she landed on her back, and she had seconds to realize Conall had been right. She felt pain like she hadn’t felt it before. Her face was goddamn throbbing, and she was discombobulated.
Suddenly Richard was straddling her, his hands around her throat, his face dark with intention.
Fight to submission, my ass.
Rage flooded Thea as she grabbed one of his wrists and although it took a lot more from her than before, she still snapped that fucker. He bellowed in pain and fell off her into the sand, clutching his broken wrist to his chest. Thea kicked out with her legs and flipped up onto her feet with ease.
Yeah, she wasn’t fae but she was still epic. She had to believe that if she wanted to win this fight.
“That’s one of my favorite moves. I do enjoy a good wrist snap,” she said casually as Richard struggled to his feet, hatred blazing in his eyes. “Do you submit?”
He lowered his useless left hand. “I will make you pay for that, you mongrel bitch.”
Thea heard Conall make a primitive noise of warning behind her. “Sticks and stones, Canid.”
He came at her again and swung a punch with his good arm, but Thea ducked and spun so she was behind him. With agility and speed, she slammed her foot into the back of his knees. Richard hit the sand on his bad wrist and growled before rolling up onto his feet.
Enjoying his frustration, Thea danced on her toes.
“Stop playing, Thea,” Conall demanded from the crowd. “And end it.”
She turned to smirk at her mate over her shoulder and sensed the shift in the air as Richard attacked while she wasn’t looking.
Thea may not be fae anymore, but her awareness of her surroundings was still otherworldly. It was the reason she knew exactly the moment Richard was within reach without even looking. Eyes on Conall, she shot out a hand, making purchase with Richard’s throat. She squeezed and turned to him. He’d momentarily frozen in shock at being caught when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
“Do you submit?” she demanded.
Feeling the tension in his body, it took Thea less than a second to compute he was readying to attack again, so she twisted fully toward him, grabbed his head in her hands, and felt the burn in her muscles as she jerked his neck.
Everyone hushed at the resounding crack and watched the life flicker out of Richard’s eyes before his body hit the sand with a thump.
Inside, she was trembling, but when she spun to face the crowd, she kept her expression blank.
Until Conall stepped forward, his look chiding. “Now that was just showing off.”
Thea’s lips twitched. “I’m new at this, so does that”—she gestured to Richard’s temporary deadness—“count as submission?”
Her mate crossed his arms over his chest. “It does for me.”
Everyone looked at Peter, frowning at his son’s body. He lifted his eyes to Thea and nodded. “It counts.”
Callie stepped forward. “Then I declare this Challenge over and Thea MacLennan the winner. Are you satisfied, Thea?”
“I’m satisfied.” She strode over to Conall, who grasped her hand in his. Gazing beyond his look of pride, she felt the pack’s collective energy press in on her. And they seemed pleased, if those beaming grins were anything to go by.
“We’ll leave you to look after your son,” Callie said to Peter. “The rest of us will celebrate.”
Conall, still holding onto Thea, approached Peter. “I’m sorry it even came to this.”
“As am