Page 76 of Wolf’s Fated Bride

Because Ash is still in the baths, I don’t follow Sören into the tower. I can sense Ash is in the direction of the caves connected to the tower.

“This way!”

Maren and I enter from the mountain and sprint through the cave tunnels, barging into the baths. The floor is wet. I slip, and my feet dance as I try to catch myself. At the very edge of the pool, I rise on my toes, stretch out my hands, and balance, barely preventing a dip into the water.

Steam rises around Ash, who rests on the other side of the baths with his arms extended.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“My brother knows, and he’s coming to kill you.”

Like an arrow, Sören flies past us, leaps, and shifts into ivory-furred werewolf midair.

The water stills, trapping Ash within the pool.

Sören bites Ash’s arm before Ash shifts. Ash bites back a yelp and tries to shake the wolf off his arm, but Sören uses the water like a vase to hold Ash. Fire erupts over Ash’s arm and scorches my brother.

Maren screams as Sören dives under the surface, and Ash leaps out of the pool, shifting into an obsidian werewolf with red eyes. He paces along the edge of the pool while Sören floats on top. They growl at each other, raising goose bumps on my arms.

“Guys, you can stop now,” I say.

“Stop this madness,” Maren says, sounding like our mother when she orders the staff.

Sören attacks. Ash meets him in mid-leap this time. They fall into the baths, sloshing water everywhere. Sören isn’t using his element anymore. Ash isn’t burning either. Now, they fight like alphas in a challenge. It’s brutal.

And done mostly underwater, their agile bodies a blur of fur with teeth flashing in the dim light. Blood turns the water crimson. The wolves snarl and snap, biting and clawing.

“They’ll kill each other,” Maren says.

Ash retreats onto the cave floor. Sören follows, and they slide and slip, their claws scratching the stone, trying to ground their moving bodies. Snarls and growls are reduced to gurgling, wet with the blood that’s slipping down their throats. The sounds they make as they fight terrify us, and Maren and I back toward the exit. This is horrific. I’ve never seen anything like this.

I’ve seen my brother spar. I’ve seen him fight too. But not like this. Not this viciously. Flesh and fur are discarded on the floor. My brother’s ivory pelt is covered in blood, while Ash’s front paw is chewed down to the bone. Yet they’re still at it, snapping their jaws near jugulars, intent on killing.

Ash’s males file into the cave. One of them shifts, showing his teeth as if he’ll join the fight. Maren shifts and blocks his way.

Now, we’re omega wolves. If we fight Ash’s werewolves, we will certainly lose. Maren will need all the help she can get. We can’t let these wolves join the fight and kill our brother.

I shift and stand next to her, growling at the male who shifted. Thankfully, the other males watch the fight. Nobody is cheering. They’re anxious. A dead Sören means war. A dead Ash means war.

The wolf who shifted rears back as if to jump, but instead, he suddenly lowers his head in submission.

It’s not because he’s afraid of me. Ash’s wolf strides beside me, his scent familiar even when drowning in blood. He bares his teeth at his male, who whines and lowers his belly to the floor.

On the other side of the bath, Sören, with his bloody gums, fur covered in blood, his belly torn, intestine hanging out, waits for Ash to return to their fight.

Ash nudges me with his flank.

I nudge him with my nose and whine. I don’t want him to get hurt. I don’t want my brother to die.

Something zips past my head and hits Ash’s neck.

I howl and throw myself in the direction of the person who hurt him, but Maren tackles me down. Ash howls in pain as projectiles fly through the air from the direction of the bath entrance. Sven charges in, rifle blasting.

Ash falls, as does my brother. The Fireborn males turn toward Sven as if to attack him.

Sven replaces the rifle’s cartridge and switches to automatic, “I have enough to put you all down.”

Put us down?