Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2), Sam Hall [leveled readers .TXT] 📗

girls have paid the price for keeping your family’s place in the pack. Nix pay the price for their gifts. This is mine.”

“No.” I wrapped my arms around him, holding the mass of him tight, but he felt cold and imprecise against my skin. “No, Mason. No. You can’t…whatever this is.”

“I’ll fade away. I think I only held on for this.” His lips, when they pressed against my skin, burned. “To say goodbye. I love you, my beautiful girl. There was never anyone else for me, no one but you.”

I went to protest, but his hand covered my mouth.

“I need to get this out. I’ve tried a hundred times. When you first left. Your dad gave me your number in the city when he got hold of it. When you came back. Since that night in the woods.” He shook his head, a gentle smile on his lips. “I’ve kept it locked down so fucking hard, I could never seem to let it out, but I’m out of road to run on. This is it. Now or never.”

My protests were muffled, by his palm, by the tears choking my throat, little more than animalistic grunts, but he smiled through them, lit from within by some kind of golden light. One that was slowly being dimmed as the wind ate away at it.

“I could meet a million women, and none of them will touch you, not in my heart. Vulnerable and strong as fucking steel. Sweet yet savage when it’s required. Loving, loyal, brutal and uncompromising. It makes sense to me that this would be the way it goes. You’re too fucking good for me, too good by half. I knew I was never gonna be up to the standard you deserve, so instead…” He looked around at the darkness, as if it had the answers. “I’m selfish enough to be happy that I was the first man you loved as an adult. But you’ve found others now, strong men who add to your strength.” Tears blurred my vision of him, but I felt him as he pressed his forehead against mine. “Stick with them. Go forth and kick arse, my love. They will never be a match for my girl…”

His words faded last, being whisked away by the unearthly breeze here. It tugged at my skin now, smooth as a wolf’s fur, sharp as our fangs. It took little parts of me with it when it moved, ready to consume me, consume everything attached to me.

Ready to consume the world.

I just stared at it, the endless fucking void, and I did exactly what Zack had always taught me.

“Keep your stance strong. It’s the basis of everything in life. If you stand strong, everything else can be built on that. Strikes, hits, kicks, using weapons. You need that solid core first, and I won’t teach you until you master it.”

I moved my legs into a wider stance, relaxing the knees.

“Keep your fists up at all times. I don’t care how tired you’re getting or what amazing combo you can see in your mind, until you’ve committed to a strike, you keep your hands up. Hands up, eyes on the enemy is your best form of defence. You can do that moving around the bag, and I’ll show you how to block a strike.”

I lifted my fists, even though the endless blackness before me showed no weak point, no limbs to deflect, no sentience even. Well, until it moved.

They flicked on like floodlights, two massive silver eyes shining in the dark, and they seemed to illuminate the rest. I made out two shadowy paws that looked like they were each bigger than my head, which then drew my attention to the rest of it. This was a wolf, but what a wolf. My fists didn’t waver, even as my lips parted, slowly picking out the outline of the beast. Now revealed, its mouth dropped open, revealing a starlit throat and spear length fangs.

“No…” This was barely more than a breath. I negated it all—Dad’s death, my attack, Bridget’s brutalisation, Mason’s disappearance, all of it. Once the word escaped, more came. My head shook, back and forth, that same word coming out over and over, louder now. “No.” The beast panted in response, the drawing in and exhaling of breath threatening to dislodge me, but my stance strengthened. Instead, I just felt the push-pull of it as I declared my inability to accept.

“No,” I said, my voice clear and crisp, cracking through the space now. It firmed as my body did, as my will did.

“Half the battle is in your head,” Zack had said. “The guy who believes he’s gonna take you down is more likely to fight in a way that convinces you he will and hence does. Your head game is as important as your body.”

“No.” A hint of growl in my voice had the beast’s head jerking up, tilting somewhat comically to one side. “No!” I shouted now, to make sure the stupid thing heard me. “No!” I could see why two-year-olds were so fond of it, because it had a power to it. I did nothing but shout my protest to the void, and yet somehow, I felt stronger. “NO!” My voice roared now, echoing through the endless space, a chorus of mes protesting what had happened.

But what good did that do?

Like any child, I could chuck all the tantrums I liked, but beings bigger and more powerful than me would decide whether or not that stood. The wolf stared at me. Was there a hint of a vicious smile in that open mouth? Did it matter? It just watched me, implacable as the moon, and I remembered that last time I’d cried out my distress at it.

I was thrust right back into that damn fucking chapel, where Mason and all the rest of my pack stood vigil, commemorating the passing of my father. The bullshit, the sheer teeth grinding unfairness of it all came roaring back, twice as