Page 37 of New Blood (Werewolf Alliance #1)
Danielle noticed his eyes suddenly flashing and prepared herself for what was coming: Byron was shifting into his wolf form.
It could only mean one thing: he wanted a fight.
As she watched him transform among the shocked stares of the others in the room, she realized that Jude was changing too, knowing there was only one way to stop Byron.
In his human body, Jude would be no match for Byron’s wolf.
Only as a wolf, could they fight on equal terms. Nobody stopped either man.
They knew the rules of their society. Byron had just challenged Jude, and nobody dared interfere.
Her heart beating frantically, Danielle shivered despite the warmth in the room. She was afraid for Jude. She’d seen his wolf, knowing how imposing he was, but she’d also seen Byron’s wolf many times and knew that he was strong, stronger than his human form suggested.
Instinctively, everybody made space and positioned themselves around the edges of the room, not wanting to be drawn into this fight.
There was silence in the room now. The silence before the storm.
It had always sounded like a cliché in her ears, but now she realized that it was true.
It was as if everything around them, even nature and the animals outside, were holding their breath, not wanting to shift their focus away from the two wolves in their midst. The dark-brown one, Jude, was equally matched in size with the almost black one, Byron, even though Byron was an inch shorter than Jude in his human form.
No such difference was evident now. There was something majestic about both of them: their coats were shining, their canines sharp like scalpels and white like the driven snow, and their eyes were piercing and alert, two predators facing each other.
Byron pounced first, but Jude was quick to react.
They clashed in mid-air, their large paws swiping each other, their massive snouts displaying their deadly canines as they tried to bite one another.
As they crashed to the wooden floor with a dull thud, the floorboards made a cracking sound, the old wood breaking in places.
On the floor, the two wolves battled like wrestlers rather than boxers, trying to pin each other down on the ground.
At first sight, the two opponents were equally strong, but the more she watched them, the more she realized that their fighting styles were different.
Byron was impulsive, issuing his hits and jabs seemingly without strategy, purely reactive to his opponent.
Jude, however, was a trained fighter. It was evident from the way he didn’t fall for the traps Byron was setting.
He didn’t go for the easy unprotected areas that the hotheaded Gallagher was offering. Jude was smarter.
For the first time, she understood why the Werewolf Alliance was able to take over entire packs without much pushback.
The Alliance trained their men to be superior fighters, and she had no doubt that the team that Jude had brought with him was just as well-trained as their leader.
Maybe that was the reason why Mason, Wendell, and Austin, who had entered the room moments before the fight, looked rather unconcerned. They knew what Jude was capable of.
Nevertheless, growls filled the room, some coming from the fighters, others from the spectators.
It was part of what they were. The wolves inside them couldn’t remain quiet in the presence of violence.
They had to make their presence known. Her own wolf reared its head, growling, watching, waiting to see if it was necessary for her to come to her mate’s aid.
It was an instinct, a survival mechanism.
A she-wolf protected her mate because his death would endanger her and her offspring. They needed each other to survive.
She could already feel the hair on the back of her hands grow thicker and turn into soft fur. It spread up her arms, hidden beneath the bathrobe, while her jaw tightened, the teeth inside her mouth shifted, making space for more.
When she suddenly smelled blood, her eyes roamed Jude’s body, but she saw no wound. A pain-filled howl bounced against the walls, and Byron’s left front leg buckled. He stumbled, and Jude pounced, rolling him on his back, pinning him to the ground, his teeth at Byron’s jugular.
A low growl came from Jude, a growl asking for surrender. For a few seconds, nobody breathed, nobody moved. They all knew what would happen if Byron didn’t surrender. Jude would be forced to kill him.
Her heart felt as if a giant hand was squeezing it. She didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death.
Finally, a whimper came from Byron. He’d accepted his defeat.
Jude pulled back and released him, giving Byron the opportunity to rise.
Blood dripping from his front leg, he stood on all fours, looking at Jude.
He lowered his head for a moment, before turning away.
With his tail tucked, Byron trotted out of the room.
The fight was over.
Jude remained in wolf form, tipping his head in Austin’s direction.
His brother nodded. “Alright, everybody. Nothing more to see here. Go to bed.” As he shuffled people out of the bedroom, he added, “Somebody should look whether Byron’s arm needs stitches.”
“I’ll handle it,” Flora replied.
At the door, Eve looked over her shoulder, tossing her another glare. Danielle didn’t react, but kept her chin high. She knew her relationship with Eve would always be strained. It was inevitable.
Austin was the last to leave. Before he pulled the door shut, he looked at her.
“I’ll station Grant outside your door for tonight and have Parker relieve him later. Just in case that hothead is stupid enough to try again.”
“Thank you, Austin.”
“Good night.”
When the door was closed again, she looked at Jude. Still in his wolf form, he trotted to her and placed his head in her lap. She ran her hands over his head and along his neck, dipping her head to his to rub her face in his soft fur.