He bared his teeth in a grin. “What of it? Afraid you’ll get eaten?”
He sounded like Vian. The man had always been a braggart, and even now, Arlon remembered every word of what he’d boasted as they fled the busy brothel that night.
Drew three lines down her thigh with my knife, and she never even screamed. Tough little whore.
The idea of taking one of Vian’s Wolves to bed may have been an exciting idea to these highborns, but the reality of all the terror and grief his former boss had wrought in the mountains lived on in Bridgette’s eyes.
Garrett crossed his arms over his chest, moving to stand between the two of them. “How’d a Wolf get an invitation to the Crux?”
It was as if the past year with Fawn had never happened. Every lesson she’d imparted on him, every method she’d given to regulate his own temper, vanished. Arlon’s hackles were already raised, and the only thing he could think to do was escalate. Hit back harder and faster. “Funny, I wondered the same thing about a mutt.”
Garrett didn’t seem phased by the insult. As if he’d heard it before. He probably had. His storm-gray eyes sized Arlon up before a smirk crossed his face.
“Your pack ever teach you to spar?” Garrett asked, his tone south of friendly. “Or did you just ambush?”
Arlon’s grin felt closer to a snarl. “You want to find out?”
Garrett motioned him forward with two fingers. “Didn’t get to at Monika’s. Would have really liked to.”
“Garrett,” Bridgette said in warning.
As they locked eyes, an entire silent conversation seemed to take place. Bridgette raised an eyebrow, and a smirk tugged at her lips before she turned those piercing eyes expectantly onto Arlon.
Garrett flashed a toothy grin as he stepped forward to square off, and Arlon realized that for the first time in his life, he was about to fight someone his own godsdamned size.
Smaller opponents, no problem. Usually. Arlon had learned the hard way that size only mattered to a point with someone who knew how to fight. And just looking at him, Garrett undoubtedlyknew how to fight.He was only a hair shorter than Arlon, but he made up for it in muscle, his Crux-supplied shirt stretched across a broad chest and bulging forearms.
Recognition hit him like a club. Garrett had been at the brothel that night, too. Assecurity.
Garrett smirked before delivering a shove that forced Arlon back a step. “C’mon, let’s see what you got, Arlon.”
Some quiet part of him knew what a bad idea this was. Vian nevertaughtanyone to fight. You learned on the job. If you didn’t, you ended up dead on the side of the road, just like his pack-mate Pashka had.
A thought that sounded very much like Fawn reminded him he was supposed to be makingfriends,dammit,but the Wolf had been summoned, and when it lunged, Arlon’s feet were the ones to move. A growl rumbled from his throat as he brought his fist around, aiming for Garrett’s braided head.
And missed.Badly.
Garrett stepped out of the way. One easy adjustment, like Arlon’s attack had come in slow motion.
Arlon lunged again and again, and as the man effortlessly sidestepped a third time, the Wolf suddenly cowered as Arlon’s own common fucking sense snapped back into place.
Get humbled, idiot. Hope he doesn’t kill you.
Pain flared from his ribs as Garrett’s fist connected like a boulder, knocking the wind clean out of him. He barely had time to cough before he was on the ground, face pressed into the damp grass. A weight descended on him, hot and oppressive. His right arm was yanked behind him, and his shoulder screamed as the joint locked.
Panic flared hot, bile rising in the back of Arlon’s throat. His feet scrambled across the grass, searching for purchase and finding none. Memories stirred from a dark, recessed part of his mind, and for one horrifying moment, it felt like Vian was still alive.
Arlon’s voice emerged choked and afraid. “Stop. Stop! STOP!”
Garrett’s weight lifted off him in a heartbeat, and as that simple demand was met, Arlon snapped back to himself, already halfway to his feet. He staggered, wiping grass from his cheek. Something like concern crossed Garrett’s face, but Arlon barely saw it through his own shame and mortification.
“Are you al?—”
Without a word, Arlon fled for the atrium. A Wolf with his tail tucked.
4
“What happened?”
