The Alpha’s Pen Pal (Crescent Lake Book 1)
The Alpha’s Pen Pal: Chapter 76

WESLEY

I readied myself, crouching into position just as Pierce had done. I focused on my breathing and the extra resolve Haven sent my way, and trusted my body, my mind, and my lycan knew what to do.

“The challenge will begin with my word,” King Malachi stated loud and clear for everyone to hear. “And it will end upon the death of one or both of the participants.”

I breathed in again, making sure to keep my eyes open and focused on Pierce. He was my target. We knew he was working with a witch, knew he was using her somehow to strengthen himself. I needed to keep him engaged, needed to stay in the fight until they found the witch and took her out.

My lycan stayed at the forefront of my mind, so I could be ready to shift at a moment’s notice. I cleared my mind, letting my sole focus be on this fight. And I prayed to Selene—to my mate’s mother—that Pierce would not let his witch do to me what she’d done to Maddie to render her defenseless.

“Begin,” King Malachi commanded.

On his word, neither of us made a move, but that was to be expected. I knew he was still sizing me up, and I was hoping to drag it out until they caught his witch. Then I could take him down with a quick, clean kill.

Pierce stalked to his right, and I mimicked him, measuring his steps with my eyes, evaluating his movements, stance, and posture critically. There was definitely something off about him, something not quite right, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. Not with the magical help he was receiving from his witch.

When we were on opposite sides of where we’d begun, Pierce gave me a sinister smile. “Let’s see what the pup knows of fighting.”

That was the only warning I had before he was in front of me, his fists flying and striking with a speed like none I had seen before. I blocked each blow, although only just. And with each of my blocks and each of his misses, his frown deepened, and his frustration grew.

I inhaled a deep breath and gave him an opening, letting him strike me. I didn’t want to, didn’t want to let him touch me, but I wanted to boost his confidence and his ego, wanted him to think he was gaining the upper hand. His fist connected with my stomach, and I stumbled back a few steps, and his other fist connected with my side, ensuring that the wind got knocked out of me.

He bounced around on his toes, his hands protecting his face. “You should just surrender now,” he said. “Surrender now, and I’ll make your death quick and relatively painless.”

“I’m not going to surrender to you. I shouldn’t even have to fight you. I’m only doing this because Haven wanted me to, and because I had no other choice.”

“Pity. For you, I mean. I will enjoy dragging your death out. I’ll make you suffer until the bitter end. I will mark your little goddess mate, and I’ll force you to watch as you draw your final breath.”

With air back in my lungs, I lunged towards him again, using the movement to hide the frown on my face. Was he really that misinformed? Did he really not remember that part of the story, the part where Asteria couldn’t be marked by Lyall because she wasn’t his mate?

Or was he under the impression that part of the story was also incorrect? Did his ancestor tell his family the story differently, making it fit his version of events and his idea of what the goddess’s daughter would be capable of when she arrived again?

My foot connected with his shin, and it surprised me that he allowed me to touch him, that he’d had his witch remove that protective barrier from his body. Then again, he seemed set on winning, seemed to think it was a sealed victory for him, and he probably wanted to at least let me think I had a chance.

But that’s where he was wrong. He may have had his witch, may have had his extra strength and speed, but I had something he didn’t. I had my mate, my Haven, waiting for me on the sidelines. I had something to live for, someone to fight for.

We circled each other more, and he darted forward again, raining blows on me, blows I blocked with ease until allowing him one hit on a spot of my choice. He backed up again, giving me a momentary reprieve, and then we started the cycle over.

Again and again, we repeated the same dance—him attacking, me blocking, me letting him get in a hit or two, followed by maybe one hit of my own on him, and then a quick regroup. Each round, my frustration grew, and with each regroup, I had to remind myself to hold it in until they found the witch.

The spectators watching us in the setting sun made hardly a sound, aside from the occasional word or cheer of encouragement for me. But I could feel their support, feel their belief in me, feel their love.

I took another deep breath and reevaluated my strategy. What I was trying wasn’t working, and I was using up a lot of energy blocking him, while he still looked as though he’d barely done anything. I needed a new plan. I needed to boost his ego and make him think he had victory in his grasp.

At his next attack, I left myself more vulnerable than I had before. I let him get a few hits in, and at the end, his foot connected with my ribs, knocking me to the ground.

The force behind his kick was stronger than I’d expected, and I knew I’d have bruising on my ribs when this was all over. My head turned to the side as I hit the ground, and I could see Haven exactly where she said she’d be, gripping Nolan’s hand fiercely, her eyes locked on the fight.

I only allowed myself that one second to look at her, though. I had to stay in the fight, had to win.

I rolled as Pierce launched himself towards me, then sprang back to my feet as he did a somersault and stood back to his feet as well.

He laughed again, his head tilting up to the sky, and I took my opening, racing towards him. But he was ready for me, and as I attacked, his hand caught my foot, holding it tighter than I thought possible.

“I know what you’re doing, alpha pup,” he said, somehow squeezing my foot harder. “You’re trying to make me think I’m winning, so I’ll slip up and make a mistake or use up my energy. You’re trying to keep an even pace with me until the king’s people replace Gladys. But you’ve made a grave miscalculation with your plan, pup.”

I swallowed, gritting my teeth against the pain in my foot and ankle.

“What’s. That,” I grunted out, focusing on the love being pushed to me by my mate.

“They’ve got the witch, Wes,” Seb mindlinked me.

“Gladys isn’t the only thing giving me strength,” he snarled, twisting my foot and breaking the bones with a sharp snap.

“Aaah!” I yelled, stumbling back and wincing with each step on my now-injured foot.

I panted, keeping my weight on my uninjured leg as Pierce advanced, still delivering fast blows to my body. I didn’t understand. They caught the witch. How was he still so strong?

“My witch and I have been developing a drug,” he bragged as we continued to exchange blows. I kept up with his pace, even with my injured foot, although it was difficult, and my body grew weary of holding itself up by one leg.

“It emulates and enhances true alpha power, the power Selene herself originally granted to Conan. It still needs some work, though. That’s where your mate comes in,” he said, landing a blow to my already bruised ribs. “Her blood, the blood of Selene, should counteract the negative effects and make the drug perfectly safe. Once I have a taste of her, once I have my way with her, then I’ll take it all from her pretty little body so I can become the powerful alpha I was always meant to be.”

I roared and launched myself at him again, ignoring the pain in my foot. I would not let him have her. He would not take her. She was not an object to be used for gain. She was a person. And she was mine to protect.

His cruel grin grew as I flew towards him, and I realized my mistake too late. His body rippled as he shifted into his lycan while I traveled towards him. Then he grabbed me and twisted us so my body landed on the ground with him on top of me. He pushed himself up, then landed a bone-shattering blow to my ribs.

The broken shards pierced into my lung and I shuddered out a gasp, my eyes closing and my body shaking with the choked sound.

My ears rang and filled with gasps and cries from the sidelines, but I didn’t let them distract me. I was still in this fight. I could still win.

But his lycan was strong and wild, and he kept hitting me in that same spot, smashing the bones and pushing the pieces further into my lungs and through my skin. His other hand gripped my throat, squeezing and holding me in place, cutting off my air, his claws piercing the sides of my neck.

I grunted and snarled with each hit, straining my body as I tried to get him off me, but he was stronger than I could have even imagined.

With each hit, each attack, and each struggle, I grew weaker, grew less certain of myself and my victory over him. My breathing was shallow, and the pain in my chest and abdomen was too great, too much to bear.

My eyes watered, and I closed them, hiding the sea of emotions swirling in them. If I died, I would die bravely. I would not let Pierce see me mourning for my mate. I would not let him see the love I held for her. That was for her only.

I pushed it all out, pushed it all towards her. The pain, the fear, the resolve, the regret, and, of course, my love. My love for her, the love I’d had for her since that day she made me feel like the smallest of men, the lowest of worms.

She pushed it back, though, pushed all of it back to me, with the determination and strength she’d shown me every day, that had grown every day I’d known her. Those awful people pretending to be parental figures to her had nearly stolen it from her. But I’d watched as it all returned over the past few weeks, watched as she became the person she was always meant to be. My mate, and my luna.

I knew genuine pain. I had fought through intense pain. I had experienced pain greater than this. When I shifted early, when I thought I would never see Haven again—that pain, that emotional torment mixed with the agony of my bones breaking and reshaping into my lycan—that pain was far greater than what I felt now.

I snapped my eyes open and glared at Pierce. Mine. She was mine. He would not take her from me.

He flinched back in surprise as my eyes opened, not expecting me to fight back anymore, to replace more strength. But he didn’t understand mates and love.

I used his surprise as a distraction and reached my hands into his lycan’s panting, drooling, foaming mouth. I ignored the saliva and the stench, holding my breath as I gripped onto his canines and yanked them out in one smooth motion.

His lycan howled in pain and he rolled off me, his body twitching and convulsing on the ground. And, like any wolf who lost their canines, it forced him back into his human form, no longer able to shift into his beast. He would live forever as a man unable to shift, unable to switch his forms.

Well, not forever.

“You… will not… touch Haven,” I gasped, rolling onto my side and crawling towards him.

He continued to howl, scream, and convulse on the ground, the drool and foam in his mouth increasing as he tried to shift back into his lycan but couldn’t. I sat back on my heels, holding in my wince and the sharp cry that wanted to escape my lips from the pain in my ribs and lungs. But I wasn’t done. This fight was to the death, and I had to make sure he died.

My hand closed around his throat, and my claws came out, piercing his neck just as his claws had pierced mine. I squeezed and leaned over him, jostling him so his eyes opened. He stared at me, the whites of his eyes pooling with blood from the pain and the broken vessels and the strain on his mind from his lycan being trapped there while he tried to force a shift.

I held his stare and ripped through his throat, pulling it from his body—trachea, and all. Then I shoved it into his mouth, still held open in a silent, pained scream.

It took only seconds for the light to fade from his eyes. Only seconds for him to turn from a thorn in our sides to food for the scavengers.

I fell forward onto my hands and knees and turned away from him, crawling on the ground, my hand clutching and pressing against my crushed ribs. I moved towards Haven, towards the spot where she said she’d wait for me, but she met me on the field before I could even get to her.

I let out a sigh of relief as she fell to her knees next to me, and I let myself collapse onto the ground.

I didn’t need to be powerful right now. I had won. I had defended my pack and my luna. I had protected my mate, and the pain in my body was nothing compared to the pride and love I could feel from Haven.

I had won, and that was all that mattered.