kissed-by-moonlight, Rakhibul hasan [golden son ebook .TXT] 📗

been building a road and forgotten a step. Beyond the shelf, the sea had darkened from blue and sea green to black. I remember floating there beside it, too petrified to swim any further. It was quieter there at the shelf, as if all the big things, all the scary things, were buried so deep that you couldn’t even hear them screaming anymore.

 

That’s what Gabriel reminded me of when he went to that deep, still place inside of himself. Sometimes I thought he would never come back up from it. As if he liked it better there. I could tell just by looking at him that he was in that place as he looked down at me, and suddenly I was no longer as confident as I had been about telling him the truth. Nothing had changed since the last time I’d spoken to Sonya. Not really. Gabriel had no reason to believe me over Marcus. Over his brother and pack member. If anything, he had even less of a reason to support me than I’d originally thought. If he took my word about Marcus, then Marcus would have to participate in the whole Trial by Combat thing.

 

Even if he wasn’t killed during the trial, revealing what I knew would sow discord among the pack and take away Gabriel’s only remaining family. In fact, Gabriel may very well decide that it would be easier for everyone just to blame the human, the outsider, and let me die.

 

But then again, if I kept my mouth shut wouldn’t I be endangering the entire pack by not revealing that Marcus was working for the Huntsmen?

 

These were the thoughts that were running through my head, but while I debated the pros and cons, Gabriel had already reached a decision.

 

“Fine.” As soon as he spoke any noise among the pack ceased. “You’re right. If the human is a threat, then that threat must be eliminated.” My stomach plummeted and the Weres around me cheered. “But,” he continued, voice rising to be heard over their excitement even as he searched my face, “I won’t allow you to kill an innocent woman.”

 

“You just said she was a threat.” Someone called out angrily, and Gabriel’s lips peeled back revealing that his teeth had begun to lengthen and sharpen in his mouth along with his rising frustration. Nervously, the speaker cleared his throat, and added, “Alpha, sir.”

 

“I said,” Gabriel spoke on a sigh as he fought to find patience, “that if she was a threat. If. We’ve yet to determine whether or not she’s guilty.”

 

There was a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest that I sort of liked. I wondered if this is what the Grinch had felt like when Cindy Lou Who had believed in him. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of innocence, but it was more than I’d ever gotten before. He was willing to trust me, despite evidence to the contrary.

 

That felt nice.

 

Then Marcus spoke up and messed up my vibe. “And how do you propose we determine her innocence?”

 

“The same way we would judge a member of the pack.”

 

Trial by Combat.

 

Sonofabitch.

 

“Discipline has to be dealt out ruthlessly. Wolves are big, dangerous. If we aren’t going to behave, you have to prove that you can make us.”

 

—Silvia Cobb

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

 

 

 

“This is dumb.”

 

“Be quiet.”

 

“My life never used to be this hard before I met you.”

 

“Says the domestic terrorist.”

 

“Even that was partially your fault,” I pointed out, but not like I was angry about it or anything. He conceded the point with a stiff nod of his head. “But before all of this, before Hell Hounds, and werewolves, and werewolf hunters, my life was pretty simple. It was pretty bitchin’ actually.”

 

Confused, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Bitchin’?”

 

“Yeah. You know. Bitchin’. Good. Awesome. Rad. Cool. Can be used as an adjective or noun. Bitchin’.”

 

“Oh.” A beat of silence. “It’s a strange phrase.”

 

“I like it. It gets the point across. Anyway, what I was trying to say is that I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to participate in a death match—”

 

“It’s not a death match. Officially anyway.”

 

“—with a werewolf who wants to get in your pants,” I continued, ignoring him.

 

“Yvette doesn’t want to get into my pants.”

 

“Yvette wants in your pants so bad the seams of your jeans are melting. If glances were touches, she’d be pregnant with your puppies by now.”

 

He burst out laughing, but I was too busy sulking to enjoy it.

 

“Will you promise me something?” I asked finally.

 

“Anything,” he said, and he sounded more serious than I’d expected.

 

“On my tombstone, make sure my epitaph reads ‘Here lies Phaedra Conners. She didn’t choose the Thug Life. The Thug Life chose her.’”

 

He mulled over this for a full minute before asking quietly, “The Thug Life. Is that like ‘bitchin’?”

 

My lips tightened. I felt very gangsta in this moment. Not sure why, since I was pretty sure I was about to get my ass handed to me. Literally and figuratively.

 

“The bitchinnest,” I answered and he nodded, albeit doubtfully.

 

“As long as it fits, it goes on there,” he assured me. “And even if it won’t, we’ll circle the rest around the sides and back or something.”

 

“Or buy a bigger headstone. I don’t want a ghetto headstone.”

 

He didn’t argue about being the one delegated to handle my funeral arrangements. He simply grunted an agreement.

 

“No ghetto. It’ll be made of marble. Or maybe quartz.”

 

All I could do was look at him and blink.

 

Then, shaking my head, I turned away.

 

White people.

 

Excluding myself of course. I was a pretty awesome white person if I did say so myself.

 

Belatedly, I realized that it was probably this kind of behavior and thinking that kept me from having friends. That and my overpowering need to antagonize old Asian women. I was trying to decide whether or not I was a closet racist when Yvette Reed finally walked into the center of the clearing.

 

Short notice had naturally dictated that we hold the trial in the same place they’d held the meeting. I suppose it made sense. At least they wouldn’t have to travel far before burying my body in some remote location.

 

We were surrounded by remote locations.

 

In all honesty, they’d tried to be as fair as possible. Yvette, the woman I was supposed to fight, was the only member of the pack who was both my height and weight. Gabriel had taken things a step further and forbidden Yvette from shifting into her wolf form, so when I looked over at

 

my opponent it was to see a blonde-haired woman of medium build with pretty blue-gray eyes. The eyes and the sassy bobbed haircut were the only soft things about Yvette, however.

 

Whereas I’d dedicated a fair portion of my 150 pounds to body fat, she’d obviously decided to turn hers into human-shredding muscle. She looked like she could crack me over her knee if I got too close, and mentally I counted all the stories I’d ever read in which a werewolf still possessed super-human strength even while in human form.

 

The final count was all of them, in case anyone was wondering.

 

Not for the first, or last, time I glared daggers in Gabriel’s direction. I was feeling a lot more inclined to tell him about Marcus at this point, but knew it wouldn’t change anything if I tried to point fingers now. Why was telling the truth always so hard?

 

The only thing that made me feel better about this was that Gabriel was the one standing beside me. The rest of the pack had grumbled angrily at this show of obvious support, but had grown silent with a well placed glance from their Alpha. He was so sexy when he went all head werewolf.

 

Anyway, here were the rules of my “unofficial” death match.

 

 

 

Death Match Rules (Amended for Humans)

 

 

 

1.Stepping out of the “ring” (circle of spectators) was a foul, and the offender would be forced to continue the fight while suffering a penalty of some kind.

 

2.The fight cannot be stopped by an outside party.

 

3.An outside party cannot assist the fighters in any way.

 

4.The winner, if a Were, was allowed to eat the loser.

 

5.The winner, if a human, was allowed to leave with his/her life.

 

6.If it came to choosing whether one of the fighters lived or died, the Pack would decide their fate. (Sort of like how the Gladiators used to do it.)

 

7.Otherwise, the winner is determined by whoever was left alive by the end of the fight.

 

 

 

Brutally simple. I liked how they didn’t give me the option of eating Yvette if I won. I thought that sort of thinking was a little narrow-minded, but I hadn’t made the rules. I also noticed that

 

they didn’t give the female Were a handicap in light of my bad arm. It wasn’t as if I could have won the fight with two working arms, but still.

 

Now that Yvette had come forward, I suppose that was my cue to step out as well. Nervous, I looked over at Gabriel. Hands at the small of his back, he didn’t look back at me, but instead seemed to sense my attention on him.

 

“You’ll be fine,” he said, as confident and self-assured as always.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I can feel it. The Hound in me tells me so. No details. Just that you’ll be all right.”

 

It was odd, but this actually calmed me. I suppose when you saw a man rip apart a spirit from the underworld for you, then you pretty much trusted his word when it came to this sort of thing.

 

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and walked forward to meet a leering Yvette. As soon as the rest of the Pack had finished surrounding us, silently marking out the perimeters of the arena, Gabriel nodded his head at the two of us.

 

I think that meant “start.”

 

I looked over just in time to see Yvette come for me. Body laid low to the ground, she moved with a lithe grace and animal-like intensity. She hit me hard and low, and I came off my feet with her arms wrapped around my knees. She lifted me up and I waited for her to slam me back on the ground, but she never finished the move. In fact, she let me down and set me gently on my feet. Then she stepped away, hands in the air. I blinked, stunned at this sudden turn of events. Then I followed her gaze and saw that she was staring at her Alpha.

 

His eyes had bled over with Amber fire and he was letting loose a low, continuous growl. When he realized everyone was looking at him, he glanced around, obviously confused by the sudden silence.

 

“What?” He looked at Yvette and frowned. “Why’d you stop fighting?”

 

Yvette cleared her throat, shifted her feet, and sent me a quick glance from beneath her lashes.

 

“Well?” Gabriel asked, impatient with the delay.

 

After a brief hesitation, she nodded and came for me again. I stood in place, knowing I couldn’t get out of the way in time, and tensing as I watched her arm come back, claws sprouting from human fingers like blades.

 

Her claws were an inch from my face when the growling started up again. She pulled back instantly, her momentum driving her past me in a swirl of blonde hair. Together, we all turned to look over at Gabriel. He was glancing around, looking at the sky, the trees, his own feet.

 

Anywhere but at us. Even if it had been believable, the fact that his eyes were still fully amber would have given him away.

 

Considering, I looked between him and Yvette, and a grin spread across my face. Suspicious, the other woman scowled at me as if she already knew what I planned. Walking up to her, I grabbed her by the chin, turned her face first this way and then that, and then slapped her across the face. Her head whipped to one side and her lip split. Eyes blazing, she turned back on me in a flash, canines growing in her human mouth and a