Revenge

By Breukelen Girl

Editing by Wonderdog Writing Solutions

Smashwords Edition

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Growing up Werewolf

Perception

Lycan La Vida Loca

Alpha

Lunar Nights

Of Wolf and Male

Beasts of Burden

Nature Of The Beast – coming in 2013

Reasons

Revenge

Wild Life

The Pack

Lunar Night Stand

Werewolf Storm – coming in 2013

Bleeding Hearts

Werewolf Bites

Complicated. My love life is complicated. I’m a werewolf. So I guess it was never going to be a smooth ride anyway. Not without a bit of bloodshed, some broken hearts and bones along the way.

Do you know how many bones I’ve broken in my body?

All of them.

All two hundred and six of them. More than once, too.

See being a werewolf means that at some stage or another, they will all break within me, when I shape shift to my tribal form.

So you might think I’d be used to the sensation of what each bone feels like when it breaks. Or maybe you might think I’d be able to anticipate when it’s going to break. So this is just a regular occurrence, like a tooth ache or a common flu to most other, non werewolf people. That’d I’d be okay with the pain which comes from shape shifting and bones breaking. Well, you go ahead and think that.

After a shape shift is over, all my bones are mended again. I don’t know how it works, and I’m really not one to question the heritage of my biology. But it works. And when a shift is over and I’m in animal form, I’m complete. Eventually I will shift again, back to my regular, human form. Any injuries or scratches or broken bones from my animal self, will have gone away and I will be as good as new.

But when I’m in human form, which is like ninety percent of my life time and a bone breaks, it’s not the same thing. I feel the pain, instantly like anyone does. I can’t just magically wish my bone would heal itself.

I can’t do a fast shape shift either. You know, need to heal myself quickly so bring on the shape shift, and then shimmy on back to human girl again, after a minute or two. No, I can’t do that. And it’s worse, the pain, the agony factor, if it’s close to or in time, with a lunar week.

When lunar week is on, it’s like this double edge sword for all werewolves. It doesn’t matter if you’re an Alpha or a Beta. We all get affected, it’s just a question of how. In terms of pain, we feel it, like its purity. It’s the worst. Double whatever the worst pain you’ve ever felt is, then times that by ten. You might begin to get the idea.

Gabby Colton knows that. That’s why she broke my collar bone first chance she got. She knows this information because like me, Gabby is a werewolf. An Alpha werewolf from the Manhattan Maen pack. She hates me. But hey, no feelings lost here, I hate her right back.

That’s why I made sure she knew it, when I came for her. Myself.

Do you know how many hearts I’ve broken in my lifetime? I didn’t think I’d broken any, until Gabby came along and let me know otherwise.

There’s a stupid saying that goes “all’s fair in love and war”. As if that makes any kind of sense at all. Well Gabby started this war with me, all because of love. Hers for another werewolf, that she stupidly thinks, I’m somehow responsible for having killed. Only I didn’t kill him, her pack leader, my boyfriend, Paris did. But he was well within his rights, and pack law, to do so. Not that Gabby cares about that little point of information.

Problem is, she wasn’t in the right when she silvered me, stabbed me, or kidnapped me, and abandoned me to bleed, slowly, painfully, very humanly, to death.

Problem is. I didn’t die.

Problem is. I’m not opposed to wanting her dead now.

Problem is. She’s started something here, that threatens to turn into a pack war, between my pack the Breukelen and my pack mate’s, The Manhattan Maen. I’m thick in the middle of it.

My loyalty is at question. Is to my pack, or to my pack mate?

Solution?

Well, that’s anyone’s guess, because it plays on my mind, what that bitch did to me. What she got away with.

I know Paris will act in capacity as pack leader and deal with Gabby for her actions against me. I know that. That’s not the question here. What is the question is - how she will be dealt with. I want to deal with her, as I believe it’s my right and also, my fight to sort out. But Paris, ever the Alpha, says that’s not going to happen. He’s never letting Gabby get anywhere near me, ever again.

Passionate words, noble words, best intentions. I have no reason to doubt him. He’s good to his word, always. And he’s never lied to me. But he’s still wracked with guilt over her attack on me because he wasn’t around to stop it. Or to grab Gabby before she could disappear into the night, like a wisp of smoke. Like a coward.

She was stealthy enough that Addison, an Maen Alpha, warrior wolf and superior tracker, lost her scent in the city. Which is actually harder than you’d think to do in a city of 1,634,795 humans, werewolves, lycans and shape shifters. Werewolves are great trackers.

But Gabby managed to do it. Just up and disappeared after leaving me bleeding to be found by Paris. Knowing very well that he would hunt her down for what she did to me. Only no one thought, fate would laugh at us all and let me, the little Beta wolf that could, take matters into my own paws.

Everyone thinks I’m the nice pack wolf, who will do as she’s told. Who will play by the rules. I might not be the mega bitch Gabby is, but I’m no angel. I’m a werewolf, through and through.

This is why my love life is complicated.

My muscles are starting to ache, my skin glistens in sweat and my breathing is becoming louder, more like moans, as I’m loved by Paris. His arms wrap around my body, cupping my breasts.

When Paris is inside me, a little voice inside my head says “More please. I can’t take it. More please. I can’t take it. More please. Oh god let me come. More please. More.” Calloused thumbs, stroking my nipples, tightening them as we move together, my back to his chest.

His mouth on the back of my neck, the feeling of fluttering across my skin, is the only indication, a quick tingle, over my skin I feel before he shape shifts this teeth, to werewolf fangs and bites me.

He’s claiming me.

It’s a sign from me to him, him to me, of what we mean to each other. Claiming is seen as a rather serious move. It can be done in our human form, or in werewolf form. If it’s done in werewolf form, is really seen as incredibly serious.

The human way of doing this has been adapted. Werewolves who do this now, use it in two instances. One, as ceremony, to one another, in front of pack for life. In my case, and the more common version of claiming, it’s a private moment between wolves. Like another step up in a relationship. It makes Paris and I more solid in our want and intention towards each other.

Paris wanted us to get back on track, not to be derailed by the building pressure around us and the situation I find myself in and bringing down on him. The situation hasn’t exactly been dealt with yet. Everyone’s too busy trying to keep the peace and keep everything as it was and has been.

Everyone’s too busy watching their backs to see what’s going to happen. Everyone’s too busy trying to anticipate Gabby. Everyone’s too busy trying to protect me from an unseen threat, the one they’re all thinking is still coming my way. Everyone’s too busy protecting me from nothing, since I’ve already been attacked once.

He moves against me, thrusting his hips into me, joining us together as my knees dig further into the moist earth underneath us. Paris wanted this. He wanted to let me know how much I mean to him. He wanted to make sure we were still good.

They’re hammering him, whenever they can. He gets abuse, he gets scrutinized, he gets questioned, he all but gets threatened by them. In particular, my sister Bodil and brother Aksel, two Alpha werewolves from my family, the leading pack family for the Breukelen werewolf pack.

They’re rather protective of me, and they’re in no way afraid to come at Paris together or by themselves. They’re not happy that I was put in danger, when I was supposed to be with him, which means safe, in his territory, Manhattan.

The smell of the earth and leaves that crunch underneath us, centers us to the world we come from. Werewolf world. Our skin has splashes of mud and dirt across it and the night air caresses us as we move against it.

I feel the brush of his skin, at the back of my legs, and know he’s close to shape shifting. His werewolf self is close to coming out and that’s a telling sign for an Alpha like Paris.

He keeps his emotions wound close to himself. He has oodles of control and constantly uses it. But it must be tiring when he really wants to give himself to me, without restraint, with all his being.

That’s what this claiming is about.

Normally it’s me, the one who gets pushed to shape shifting first. By comparison, it doesn’t take that much. But for Paris, it takes a fair bit.

I’m not sure he’s ever let himself loose control. Loosing control might be the wrong way to say it, I mean, I don’t know that he’s ever given up control of himself, completely. To anyone, let alone himself. And here he is, giving himself to me, without being asked to.

I know he feels guilty about what happened to me. Because he wasn’t there, and he couldn’t stop it. Nobody saw Gabby snapping as a problem. Probably because we’re so used to dealing with the bitchy side of her. But we all forgot, love doesn’t always make sense. Especially when you’re dealing with werewolves.

Werewolves in love are unpredictable beings.

Paris starts to grunt, unable to contain his silence any longer, as his mouth moves off my neck. It’s dark and the moonlight filters through the trees, to the clearing we’re in, like speckled bits of a disco ball.

It’s not often we’re outdoors, when we make love. But every time we are, it’s like a new experience, like getting even closer to the werewolf within, the werewolf selves of old. Us urban dwelling werewolves, get reconnected with our roots this way.

It’s like…being awakened.

My arm buckles from holding myself up and as I go to straighten them again, Paris flips me over, I’m briefly on my back laying in a bed of crunchy leaves and he’s directly above me, looking down at me. Before he pulls me up and I’m straddling those hips, pushing myself down onto his cock.

Paris continues to claim me at a leisurely pace. His face half shadowed by the surrounding night’s secrets. I can only make out one side of his face, and he’s looking at me. We’re getting lost here, in this wilderness, forgetting about all our troubles and giving in to just us.

The sensation of him, deeper inside me is making me arch back, my breasts jutting out at him. His mouth tries to take them, but I don’t want to stop moving. It feels too good to stop and yet, I don’t know how much more I can take. There’s a light wind and tree’s sway, rusting, competing with us for the only noise outside on such a solitary night.

I know we’re not completely alone. In the not to far distance, there are two Alpha werewolves playing body guard, in the surrounding grounds. Hidden from our sight, Cloaked by the landscape around us. Keeping a look out, should we be in danger.

Or more correctly. Me.

It’s been like this since I was attacked. I can’t go anywhere, without an extra set of claws and fur around. Everyone seems to think I’m still in danger. I think they’re over reacting and badly.

But the only danger I’m likely to experience here, is being so completely worn out, I don’t have use of my muscles the next day. We’re like battering rams in a sense, just using up all that we have, all that we’ve contained since I was attacked, since the werewolf world started to cave in on us, tried to pull us apart. So we unleash ourselves out here, in nature’s embrace. It’s the closest we can get at present, to being alone and together at the same time.

He’s my sanctuary and I’m a part of him he hasn’t found with any other wolf. That’s what he’s letting me know without saying the words.

I’ve been told about the types of wolves Paris has previously gone after. Dated. Had “friends with benefits” arrangements with. His younger brother, Wiatt and I talk. Their mother, the only other Alpha female in the Manhattan Maen pack next to Gabby, takes every opportunity she can get, to remind me of those wolves. Of how little she likes us dating. Of how Paris was never really a relationship werewolf, until I came along.

And that’s when our lives got complicated.

My orgasm rises and sweeps me up causing me to throw open my mouth and howl into the night. Paris’s body thrusts a few more times before he drops his head back and howls loudly, louder than me, to the sky, as if answering me, as if sending a message to the world, that we are werewolves, we are pack mates. We are in love. We are together, and nothing will separate this.

He’s claimed me, I’ve allowed myself to be claimed. We are stronger than those that come at us, could know. I understand him; I understand the power of his position in pack and what it entails.

Paris wouldn’t choose me for a pack mate if I couldn’t be equal to him in this way. It’s just that it’s the Alpha werewolf way.

They surround themselves with strength and power. It’s like a natural inclination, to an Alpha wolf. Beta wolves like me, generally, don’t even think like that, because we don’t have to.

Beta werewolves like me, are not raised to believe we are going to be leading anything, let alone a pack, we’re conditioned to be commanded. To fulfill the role of pack wolves.

He pulls me close to him as we both try to regain control of our breathing, resting his head against my breasts. I kiss the top of it. I sigh, grinning broadly. “Let’s do that again.”

Paris laughs at me. “I do love a wolf with enthusiasm.”

“And stamina. Don’t forget the stamina.” I reply, laughing lightly. “What good would I be as a werewolf if I didn’t have stamina? We’re built for endurance. Running and roaming.”

“Careful, you’ll start turning me on and giving me ideas again.” Paris says breathing heavily beside me. “Very naughty ideas that make me want to wait for your shape shift.”

“I can handle whatever you’re going to throw at me.” I reply cheekily, laughing and sighing again.

“Now you’re just giving me license to get creative on your delectable ass.”

We both laugh and listen to each other’s heavy panting, the sounds of our heartbeats racing each other, racing for control, racing to our wolves needs. Strangely enough, I think it’s Paris that feels more inclined this time around to shape shift to his wolf self. Yet he clings to me, tight, close. As if trying to rein in that control he lost earlier, when we were making love.

“Don’t do it.” I blurt out

Paris’s head turns to look up at me. “What?”

“Don’t let all that tightness, control just come back in an instant and rule you again. I felt you, when you were with me. Like a submission, like you knew, it was okay to be with me, in that sense.”

He remains quiet and looking at me, his eyes searching mine out. A little smile plays across his face.

“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

“Well, I always figured you’d had enough of bimbos.” We both share a little laugh and he looses his hold around me. Our skin is sticky as we put a little room between us.

“Shape shift for me Paris.” My voice is husky and I’m not ashamed to say, I still feel horny and the idea of seeing my man, become his wolf, turns me on even more.

He’s impressive in either form.

He kisses me deeply and I hear the growl growing within him. His shape shift barely being held back. Truly amazing, I’ve never seen him so easily close to just not having that restraint. The sensual movement of his mouth with mine is again building in urgency. We’re not done here yet. I feel a movement between us and realize, Paris has a hand back on his cock, stroking it as we kiss.

No, we’re nowhere close to done. This night out here, in the dark and quiet, requires more howling, more fur. Sex scented air and sweat covered leaves. It needs werewolves.

The romance of our being there, the idea of love of expelling everything else out of our system, until there is just freedom in fur, unity in presence, love in our very beings. He breaks from me and gives me one last lingering look, before I scramble apart from him, so he can shape shift.

Shape shifting for Paris, is far easier to bring on and do gracefully, than it is for me.

Paris sits on his knees before me, looking at me the whole time, and as if on cue, the wind picks up and trees sway to let the moonlight dance down around.

Light plays across Paris’s naked form and I watch his muscles ripple, tense and shimmer, and in the blink of an eye and a flash of fur there is a werewolf before me. Dark eyes, still look back at me. I crawl over to the large wolf.

He’s about two and half times the size of a regular, wild wolf. But he’s still wolf all the same.

Four paws, tail, ears that twitch as they adjust to their new surrounds. His nose snorts and sniffs as I move closer to him. I rub my face up against the soft fur of his powerful front leg, making the werewolf familiar with me.

This is how werewolves greet one another when we’re in wolf form. It’s done to show respect in hierarchy, from a Beta to an Alpha wolf. It makes us not only Alpha and Beta wolves, or lovers, it reminds me, it keeps us together, no matter what form we take.

I will be with him all night, if he chooses to hold this form, for that time, because the presence of the werewolf before me, is not only sensuality without need for formality. It is also security to me. It is so many things, and such a simple gesture.

Its pack, and pack is everything. Even if both Paris and I are from different werewolf packs.

Which is part of the problem we are escaping from, out here. Except that I remember that which I can’t escape. I lay down with Paris , and inhale the scent of the world around us. Night air, earth, the sapling bark of trees. Fur with almonds and traces of amber, the human base scent of him mingled in there, amongst the wolf. I curl against his underbelly and close my eyes.

Just me and my wolf. The world around us, this night, is ours.

While everyone around me, my family, my siblings Aksel and Bodil, decided to fight Paris and let him know how poorly they think he’s handled the fall out of my attack at Gabby’s hands, I’d been left to sit and watch them tear at each other. Like that made sense.

Werewolves fighting werewolves’ emotions. Nobody benefits from that pain. And then it came to me, what had to be done.

I told my sister Bodil “I have a plan” and she listened. She seemed somewhat surprised by my plan after she heard it, like it never occurred to her, that I could think so strategically. Or that I’d be so willing to go through with it.

It means, putting my relationship with Paris, to the test. Jeopardizing it, a great deal. To the point, my relationship might be over with him. Maybe it was a case of Bodil didn’t want me to have to. To think the way I have to put this plan into affect. But I’m a werewolf, my life was never going to be soft edges and low risk.

So the day after I told her the plan, we put it into action. I went around to my Ex’s house, and asked him to come in on it. Conall Wakely and I do not have a smooth relationship history.

I was with Conall for a long time, on and off, before we broke up and I left him for Paris. There’s been angry resentment between us ever since. But we do have a strength in the foundation of being from the same pack and that’s never been disputed between us.

It’s always been an unbroken bond. I know above all else, that once Conall and I get through taking swipes at each other, we are on the same side and that he will do what I ask of him, if I call on him for help.

Which is another reason my plan so shocked my sister Bodil. You see, she’s used to thinking like an Alpha werewolf, to being an individual and doing things for herself, by herself.

I don’t have the luxury of her inherit abilities from being an Alpha. And yet, I’m going up against one. So really, there’s only ever been one way to even up the score on that front.

To make me, an Alpha wolf. Obviously, that’s impossible.

I mean, you’re either born a Beta or an Alpha werewolf. I’m a Beta wolf. It’s in the genetics and bloodline. You don’t get a say in it or an option to upgrade later on in life. Doesn’t work that way. You’re either born a natural werewolf, or you can get bitten by one and become another version of a wolf, a lycan.

It is possible to become an Alpha lycan through a werewolf bite. I should know, since I’ve been with the only Alpha lycan in the Breukelen pack, Booker. But again, turning me into an Alpha lycan is impossible. Werewolf already, remember?

So the question becomes, how do I turn into an Alpha werewolf, when I do not have the inherit abilities associated with Alpha wolves?

I’m not as fast as them, I can’t do partial shape shifts, I can’t bring on other wolves shape shifts, I’m not nearly as strong as an Alpha. I’m not tough enough, or skilled enough to fight an Alpha werewolf.

I can become an Alpha werewolf, through reputation. Not physical dominance.

That is to say, I use my pack as my own personal army to take on Gabby Colton. A Beta wolf with a pack full of fighter wolves and Alpha warriors at her disposal to help her do her bidding, please, why has no one else thought of this?

The Alpha’s in all their greatness, never thought to come up with a plan where I can save face, and have the advantage to level the playing field like this.

There are no rules on this, no position I must take and adhere to in dealing with Gabby. She attacked me unprovoked. An attack like this, can be seen to be a declaration of war on my entire pack. Attack one, and it’s an attack against us all.

So my inclination to get my pack’s assistance on this, rather than take it on a personal level, is highly justified. And yet I will make this very personal. Because I want Gabby to know I’ll never roll over and die for her. No matter how many times she comes at me.

So it’s my plan to come at Gabby and to have me lead the charge. But I won’t be alone and she won’t be expecting that. She said as much when she left me bleeding out and alone on the cold concrete floor of a cage. She said Paris would come for her.

I don’t know if she thinks he’ll come at her and take it easy because she’s of his pack, or if she expects him to get her and punish her accordingly. I just know she thinks it’s going to be Paris she’s dealing with, whenever she gets found to be dealt with.

And that’s the thing- It won’t be Paris because I’m executing this plan now, as a Breukelen.

The Manhattan Maen Pack, Gabby’s and Paris’s, haven’t been told we’re going after her ourselves. It could be a future sore point between Paris and me, but right now, I don’t give a damn about that.

I feel incensed every time I think of the attack. Every time. And that’s just not going to go away, if I don’t deal with Gabby. It’ll get worse, every time I end up seeing her smug face. And quite frankly, I think that’s more potentially explosive to my relationship with Paris than me holding out on him.

Lunar week for werewolves, is when the moon goes through its phases, leading up to the full moon. It’s both a blessing and a curse, as it were. For a few varied reasons.

All wolves, regardless of whether you are an Alpha, Beta or lycan, are affected by this.

All sensations, emotions and feelings in our physiology are heightened more than normal.

Heightened, means our abilities are stronger, faster, quicker, than normal.

Heightened, means our sensations are tenfold more than normal. So if you’re normally horny, then when lunar week kicks off, you’re like a nymphomaniac with a problem.

Heightened, means our sensations are tenfold more than normal. The bad ones too. So our pain factor, is increased. Where we already have a pain threshold that is outstandingly above average for humans, we are also prone to feeling the pain of injury during lunar week, twentyfold more than normal.

When there’s an eclipse, we’re all fucked. Equally. Figuratively speaking.

This week there will be an eclipse.

I think point seven is where I really got my sister Bodil’s attention with and why she seemed surprised by my mindset.

A lunar eclipse for a werewolf is not really good news. Whilst the eclipse may not take a terribly long time, in itself, the affects for us, take longer.

It’s a weird thing, a truly weird thing to experience. It’s like having all your werewolf urges come to the forefront of your very being and not able to do anything about them.

It can be quite maddening, if you’re not schooled enough to get yourself through it in human form. Either form you take, is kind of affected one way or the other. Seriously, weird.

Having a human mind in a werewolf body and having a werewolf mind in a human body and struggling to figure out where you are or what form you’re in. Who you are, it’s weird.

An eclipse for werewolves, again, regardless of type, is an equalizer for this reason alone. You kind of have to pick your side, when an eclipse is coming.

Do you sit it out in human form, or werewolf form?

Because you can’t shape shift during a lunar eclipse. Well, actually, you can’t shape shift a few hours before or after a lunar eclipse. Generally speaking, werewolves go off the basic rule of shape shifting a good twelve hours before an eclipse is supposed to happen.

Once shape shifted, these werewolves will stay shifted for the entire eclipse event and the, following twelve hours afterwards because it’s impossible to shape shift otherwise. Even Alpha wolves can’t bring on or end their shifts like normal.

This is part two of my advantageous plan to get back at Gabby. I’m rather counting on us having a hold of her by then and keeping her in human form for the duration of the eclipse.

Because lunar week December 2010 there will be an eclipse, which means, there’s more advantages to me during this time frame of opportunity, than there is to her. Hence the surprise, sneak-attack, tactic.

But it gets better.

For me.

I’m rummaging through what seems like an endless closet in the family home.

“What are you doing?” Markus asks me, half tripping over a discarded box of some

junk or other. I fling something soft aside, not looking at it. I hear the way the

material whips in the air and is caught by Markus behind me.

“I’m looking for something.” I mumble back at him frustrated, I can’t find what I

thought was in there. “Damn.”

“Well maybe if you told me what you were looking for I could help you find it.”

Markus replies as I sigh and stop searching. I’ve identified everything on the high shelf above my head and none of it’s what I want.

I turn around to look back at my brother. “I’m looking for a cheat.”

His eyebrows shoot up with surprise. “A cheat.” I raise my eyebrows as if to say – you know, what that is. Markus shakes his head. “A cheat, as in…” he shrugs his shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re not saying here.”

“What do werewolves consider cheating, Markus?” I reply snatching the material out of his hands and throwing it back up on the shelf before starting to drag all the items I’ve chucked out of the closet, back in.

This time he gets it, in an instant.

“Weapons. You’re looking for weapons?”

“Right.” I mutter, dragging boxes back into the closet. Werewolves consider using weapons in a fighting situation, cheating. Normally, because we consider ourselves weapons.

“What the hell kind of trouble are you in exactly?”

I sigh and lift one box back up onto the shelf above me, I feel extra hands steady the box and shove it back further on the shelf. Markus moves back and I’m slow to look up at his face.

“I’m not in any trouble.” I say truthfully. But the suspicion is there, his eyes are darting, trying to figure me out. “Honestly, it’s not me that’s in trouble.”

“But you’re looking for weaponry in our family home. Because….” He waits for me to fill him in. Like I’m supposed to. I shuffle more items back into the closet and step back to close the closet doors. Damn family, why do they require honesty.

“Do you remember the year after I was hunted?” I ask more defensively than intended, and cross my arms over my chest.

“That was a really long time ago, we were just kids.”

“Teenagers, but whatever,” I correct him. He’s right, it was a really long time ago now, but it’s funny how it hasn’t faded from my mind completely or my life entirely. To me it doesn’t feel that long ago.

Even saying the words that I was hunted make me feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. Not that I’d tell my brother or family that. I guess you could say, it’s kind of what inspired me to take this fight to Gabby. To formulate this plan.

“What exactly am I supposed to be remembering?” He asks, his curiosity now touched with concern.

“The year after I was hunted, father had me under guard, all the time. And he made me undertake training.”

“Yeah, that’s right, but it wasn’t fighting or self defense, was it? I remember now, cause I got into a fight with him over what he was teaching you.”

I put a hand on Markus’s arm and offer a soft smile. “You’re concern for me is touching. But everyone in this family seems to think I’m incapable of looking after myself when things like this, like that, happen.”

“It’s not that we don’t think you can look after yourself. It’s more that we’re concerned and we love you and we don’t want anything further, bad, to happen to you. There’s a difference you know.”

“I know. But sometimes it just feels like, I’m the baby of this family and well, I’m not. Joss is the youngest and yet he doesn’t get treated like this. He doesn’t get babied and coddled.”

Markus breaks out into a big smile. “You’re loved sis, loved. Not coddled. Besides,” He says “You can’t fight for shit.”

I go to take a swipe at me and he jumps out of the way laughing.

“Oh like you can.” I reply smiling. “So where do you think father keeps the cheats?”

Markus looks around us and scratches his head, thinking.

“I didn’t actually know he had any weapons in the house, as such.”

“Yeah, he kept them for me. Said they were mine to use whenever I needed them, after I’d gone through that training.”

“Have you ever used them?”

“No, not outside of the training I was given. I mean, I guess I never really thought to.

Or more correctly, wanted to have to think to. It’s….a blow to this werewolf’s ego to have to admit to doing, what comes very naturally and easily to the rest of the wolves in this family.

Father wanted to make me feel safe again.” I say shrugging my shoulders. “That’s the only reason he kept the weapons. I think, the idea of them just being around here, at my disposal, was like re-establishing that sense of security again. Stupid, I know. I mean, I’m not supposed to think like that. Supposed to think like a wolf.”

“You’re just supposed to be you, you know.”

Markus gives me a quick tight hug and we look around us again. This is me, some part of me., a small part of me. The part that says - I am going through with this plan and that I need my weapons.

But I can’t tell Markus that. He’d be so disappointed in me. And I can handle outright hatred from a stranger, but I can’t handle disappointment aimed at me from my brother. I pretend to sniff and wipe an imaginary tear from my face. That’s when I pick up the scent of air dried dirt. Dust.

“Oh snap. I know where they’d be!” and before Markus can open his mouth to ask, I’m sprinting down the hallway towards the back of the house. Thoughts of disappointment are gone, as I remember dust and metal and cardboard and cotton. I know exactly where my weapons are.

The year after I was hunted, my father got me to undertake some rather extensive weapons training. I don’t mean he got me a gun and took me out to the range.

No, he wanted me to retain a sense of self, to reclaim myself back from the horror of being hunted as a teenager who’d just gone through the first stages of shape shifting into werewolf-hood.

I was trained to use sai. I remember my first lesson well, I was shown these metal weapons, that looked like a cross between a dagger and a devil’s pitch fork.

The teacher asked me if I knew what they were. I said yes, they were tonfa’s. The teacher said no they were not. Tonfa’s are like a police baton, a defensive weapon, designed to fend off attacks from other weaponry.

Sai are both defensive and offensive weapons, used at the same time, designed to be used with lethality. I was taught to use the sai as an offensive weapon, to attack, to wound, to kill.

I remember my breath leaving me then for a stunned moment. My father, in all his wisdom, was having me trained with weapons, but with a high sense of werewolf in the training.

Remember, when under attack or in a fight, werewolves do not defend, they attack outright. I guess now, looking back, I could see why Markus was upset over the whole thing. He’s such a sweet soul.

There’s just one problem with my sai, when I unwrap them from the cotton material around them. They’re not silver. They’re metal. Sure, they’ll absolutely hurt like a bitch regardless of the metal covering them. But that’s not good enough for my purposes.

I don’t want to just hurt Gabby. I want her to experience what those first few seconds of an attack are like. They way it grips your mind. The way, in her werewolf mind, it will be forever recorded when she smells the mixture of her own blood and me at the same time.

I want that sensation locked into her olfactory, a little gift from me to her. Kind of like the silver scar she left me with. I want to do this, so if she ever thinks to come after me again, she’ll hesitate. Hesitation is not in the werewolf’s nature. Especially an Alpha werewolf like Gabby.

Yeah it’s a bitch fight. Werewolf to werewolf.

I’ve returned to this holding pattern over the fallout from Gabby’s attack on me. The world intruded again.

Like a reminder of my place in it. The world at large in light is just a big city, a city of humans. But there are wolves amongst them too and I’m on the trail of a particular nasty werewolf.

It was only ever going to a matter of time before everyone and everything caught up to Gabby Colton again. I enlisted the help of my sister, her posse, my ex boyfriend and some fellow Breukelen werewolves, to ensure that Gabby’s time in hiding, was severely lessened.

Because my plan is contingent on time too. But mostly because I was sick of feeling like I’d been labeled a victim. Like I had to wait for someone else to come and clean up the mess I’d been thrust in. To make it go away and make everything alright again.

Yeah, I got impatient. Then I got angry.

There’s only so many do-se-do’s you can dance around the issue, when you’re constantly watching it play back and forth between your family and pack and your boyfriend, before something gives.

Paris doesn’t know. Yet.

The scents of sweat, deodorant, laundry detergent, pollution, petrol, urination, the fresh ink smell of newspapers, alcohol, hot dogs, all mingle together. You think it’d be hard to define one smell, a scent when there’s so many. Urban landscapes are filled with them. They emit life, and leave trails. A calling card on what’s happening around you, if you pay enough attention to them.

A werewolf can scent pretty much anything. An exceptional werewolf, can track, by scent alone. I haven’t had to put much investment into my tracking skills through out my life.

I’d like to think I lead a fairly normal life, for a werewolf. Girl by day, werewolf by moonlight, it’s a balance thing that you have your whole life to get used to working out and around.

But I can remember scent things like a library catalogue. Scents lock onto images and my brain just locks it all in together like jigsaw pieces . And so when I smell that exact scent again, the memory of whatever that smell is like, is recalled with ease.

Every werewolf has a scent.

Just like every human has a body odor for lack of a prettier description. Today’s werewolves have a base scent, their “human” smell if you will, inter-laced with their wolf. For Paris, it’s almonds and amber to my snout.

He says I smell like vanilla and marshmallows. For Gabby Colton, it’s something like ginger and brandy swirling around fur.

I know her scent well. We’ve had several up close and nasty encounters with one another which have lead to bloodied noses, claw marks and bitch scratches on one another. We really don’t get along at all.

The thing with scent is no two are exactly alike. They are unique like a finger print if you will. There are subtle similarities when the wolves are from the same family. But you can still differentiate between siblings from one family.

That’s why I know, when my nose twitches and picks up the trace lingering of ginger and brandy on the air, that Gabby is close. Instantly my inner wolf stirs. I stand stock still and start surveying my landscape, scoping out the layout and those in it.

It’s called going into wolf mode. The werewolf in me has an ability to take over my otherwise human thinking, if I let it. And in times of searching for an enemy, a predator or prey, letting the wolf take over, is a very good idea.

The mindset of the werewolf is different to the human side of me. The human side of me will balance and weigh options, over think and analyse. The werewolf in me, is more fine tuned to knowing, than having to think, about how to entrap its target. About how to come out the victor.

My enemy is here, in the same place as me. My enemy, Gabby. Gabby, who no one has seen or heard from since the attack. I’m close to her, I know this because her scent lingers. And it’s unmistakable to me. My eyes start looking for Gabby. She’s rather unmistakable, not like she could really blend in, unless she tried to go incognito.

A tall blonde, that looks to me like a Californian blonde. Beautiful and boring. Exactly like a copy of every other beautiful blonde around. There isn’t anything exotic about her.

But as a result, there isn’t anything terminally average about her either, which makes spotting her in a crowd of blended, normal looking people, and werewolves so much easier.

This isn’t a chance encounter. So it wouldn’t matter that much if I didn’t catch a whiff of her scent. I’ve done something, that wasn’t expected of me. That nobody asked me to do. That nobody wanted me to do.

So I say- screw this overly protected, waiting around for something dangerous to happen to me shit. Again. I’m not a China doll, and I’m not all together human and breakable.

Gabby already got her chance to go at me. And she did. She stabbed me and kidnapped me in front of pack. And nobody did anything to help. They just let her. Then she caged me and force fed me silver, so I couldn’t shape shift. I had to suffer as the silver coursed through my body, poisoning me while I lay bleeding.

She had a good shot at me. And she took it and she tried to cover her tracks when she up and left New York, running away from what she’d done. And she did a pretty good job about that too. Pretty good.

But Breukelen werewolves are better than pretty good at tracking. Every werewolf pack is different.

The Breukelen pack,is the third largest in New York. Most packs would look at us, as a working class pack, filled with many Beta wolves and only a handful of Alpha werewolves. Most packs would look at us, like we’re just a regular urban werewolf pack, incorporating our wolf selves amongst the humans, living as best we can in harmony, with them.

Our pack is solid, strong and highly underestimated. We are made up of fighters and warriors and leaders. Our pack leaders are chosen with high regard, to continue to uphold our pack’s status.

They raise us wolves to not be complacent, and sloppy. We’re a pack that hasn’t forgotten our history or tried to just live a human life, to be like the humans. We blend, but we do not change ourselves for conformity reasons, like the Manhattan Maen seem to have.

Those wolves, the majority, have become soft. They’re so busy being wolves in a human world that they only ever acknowledge their werewolves when Paris requires them to be wolves.

Werewolves like Gabby, forget werewolves like me are more schooled in the old ways. Scenting, tracking, and hunting what is ours. Of bringing the fight to our enemy instead of avoiding it, or waiting for the next strike.

I’ve taken the fight to Gabby. I planned to attack hard and fast and with my pack. An usual tactic by today’s werewolf standards.

Most werewolves, even Beta wolves like me, like to prove their superiority and reputation by fighting one on one, to show how skilled they truly are. I’m not much of a fighter by werewolf standards. But by human standards, I look like a damn champion.

But I’m no match for Gabby Colton, one on one. Alpha against Beta. My strategy wasn’t about safety in numbers it was about improving the odds, when going up against an Alpha she-bitch. It was about making sure everything went right according to my plan.

The plan is simple enough. Mission statement: My turn to hurt Gabby. My reputation amongst the Manhattan Maen werewolves, needs to be firmly cemented as a Do not fuck with me association, around my name.

And I’m itching to deliver this message to those that witnessed my attack and did absolutely nothing to stop it or help me afterwards.

I’m a Breukelen, not some yuppie, soft bellied wolf from the upper east side who’s only real advantage is she’s taller than me in Stiletto heels and has a different bloodline.

Fighting is not how the Manhattan Maen handle most things. And I’m dating their pack leader, the werewolf that Gabby would much rather she has to deal with. Probably, I’m guessing, because she thinks she can use her feminine wiles on him, to get not much more than a slap on the wrist for what she’s done.

Gabby has status in the Manhattan Maen pack, because she’s only one of two Alpha females. Where as me, by comparison, is just an average, common, Beta wolf.

Of course, the fact that she attacked her pack leader’s girlfriend, might ruin that standing for her. Well, lessen her value to them. Not that Paris was ever going to mate with her. No matter what her deranged little mind might think.

In Brooklyn, baby, we know how to rumble.

Which is part of the problem of being a Breukelen wolf, our reputation for fighting is big. We’re very well known for it. For our fighting being the core strength of our pack. Literally. So you see, I feel as though I have to do this. There’s not much choice in the matter. Because not only does it look poorly back on me, if Gabby is let off the hook for what she did to me. But it lessen my pack’s standing amongst the greater werewolf community if I, do not make an example of her.

My resolve is firmly planted in my very human mind and my werewolf agrees with the thinking that I plan to do more than make an example of her. I’m going to destroy her.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where Gabby was. I knew she had a sister who was no longer with the Manhattan Maen pack. I knew this because her sister and Paris once dated. See what I mean about my love life being complicated?

Werewolves, sometimes I think we give humans a run for their money when it comes to relationships and love. Werewolves love hard. We fight just as hard.

So when I saw Gabby lift her head a little higher than eye level, tilting her nose upwards to sniff at the air, I knew I was in for a hard fight too. She turned around just in time to witness me pouncing down atop of her.

She managed to shoot a hand out, shape shifting it to a wolf’s claw striking out at me as I came down atop of her. Women screamed, the humans scattered away from the fight.

Gabby’s claws rips into my upper shoulder blade, tearing the top of it open, like it’s made of paper. Gritting her teeth and growling, like a mad dog at me. I’m aware enough to feel her claws curl and tighten into my flesh, cutting into my bones. She keeps the pressure on that claw curling around me, even as she fights, tries to fight me off her, with her still human, right hand and arm.

I have to say, that’s kind of impressive. To keep focusing on that one particular action whilst fighting the rest of me. Because she’s kind of immobilizing me at the same time. I can’t essentially get off her or move away because she’s keeping us joined together. Punching, clawing it out on the street.

I hear my collar bones snap and feel my shoulder automatically sag in giving way as she kept pulling at me with that claw. I grunt loudly, clamping my mouth shut hard, quickly. She’s trying to tear me, quite literally apart.

Gabby didn’t get to do worse to me, because Bodil jumped in and pulled me off of her and took Gabby down faster, and harder, than the other woman knew what was coming. Gabby is no match for my Alpha sister whose dominance fights around Brooklyn, are somewhat of legend.

But Gabby did manage to break my collar bone and put in me in a fair amount of pain.

Lunar week special, I guess. But I can live with that, because a day out from the eclipse, I can still shape shift and heal. There’s still some time left. But more than that, I can live with it because now I have Gabby, not just in my sights, but in my grasp and this thing between us, is almost over.

“Wait.” I pant at Bodil.

She stands up over an unconscious Gabby Colton, sprawled out cold on the street. I walk back over and look back at her and lean down. Slamming my fist into her cheekbone and snapping it back.

Gabby’s faces bounces with the impact. “That’s better.” I say shaking my fist quickly. The skin on my knuckles has split open and is stinging. But I don’t care.

“I’ll take care of this. You start shape shifting. Get ready for the next part of the plan. You’ve got to be at full strength for this.” Bodil says. She looks at me as if to sink in the meaning of what we’re doing. “I’ll help you get out of the shift in time, don’t worry about that.” I nod my head back at my sister.

“You’re going to take your enemy down.” She reiterates back at me, punctuating her words with depth and meaning. Bodil knows a thing or two about warring with werewolves.

I hear her words and I feel the nervous energy building. Pride has a price

The eclipse falls perfectly in a lunar week. Lunar week affects all werewolves, not just one pack or a particular individual or blood type, but all werewolves, all over, this is part of the reason we have established rules for lunar weeks only.

Part of managing to live as a werewolf in modern times, is to not revert to a mindless meat machine that rampages through the streets, attacking fair maidens and nasty men. Or you know, just anyone.

All five werewolf packs in New York adhere to a set of rules for lunar week in order to keep the peace.

Like not letting another pack enter their home territory. That is to say, as I’m a Breukelen wolf from Brooklyn, I can not go hang out in a night club with my friends and fellow werewolves in New Jersey, because it’s Nieuw Tëme territory.

I have to be in Brooklyn during the lunar week nights. But, because I am dating Paris and he is from the Manhattan Maen, there is an agreement in place. Basically, I can be with him in Manhattan on lunar nights or he can accompany me to Brooklyn on lunar nights. But that is the exception.

It does not grant me the freedom to bring my pack with me. That would be seen as an invasion. Which is essentially, what I am doing. Which is pretty much, an act of warfare. From one pack to another. Especially since we’re bringing one of his pack, Gabby, with us having tracked her down ourselves, which whilst unsaid, would be against the Manhattan Maen’s way to deal with this situation between Gabby and I.

For all Paris knows, he was doing all that he could by trying to come up with a suitable solution for all parties concerned by dealing with my sister, acting on behalf of the Breukelen on behalf of me.

We haven’t told him our plan. We haven’t let any Manhattan Maen wolves get an inkling of what we planned. This was all done in-house, via the Breukelen. I thought it up, voiced it, put it into action, with the approval of my pack Alpha and the help of my sister and pack.

My pack is aware of what could happen from this act of aggression. They are prepared to deal with the ramifications that will come back on all of them, not just me. It has my Alpha’s blessing and approval. That’s why I’m so unshakable on this. That’s why this has to be done, like this.

Whilst I am dating a Manhattan Maen wolf (for how much longer is anyone’s guess), I am still a Breukelen. Altijd. Gabby’s attack on me in front of her pack reinforced this to me. I’m not really welcome in Manhatten. I just walk amongst them, but apart from them.

So I want to see, really, want to see, how they’re going to react to seeing the situation reversed on one of their own. The one who started it.

Paris will be in Manhattan. He’s expecting me to join him. He’s expecting me, to come with my Alpha body guards accompanying me.

That is, one or two other Alpha werewolves who’ve been assigned to look out for me because of this whole Gabby thing. And normally, considering that was an agreed upon point between my pack and him, that would be seen as okay.

But it’s not going to go down like that.

This isn’t about being nice, or predictable or weak. This is a message that needs delivering, not just to Gabby, but to the whole Manhattan Maen pack. So that none of them think to take up the mantle for Gabby and continue what she started with me. This is about showing them I’m really as Alpha on the inside. It’s about being strong and standing tall. Not being a walk over.

Pride has a price. Gabby’s about to pay hers for mine.

I know exactly where to find Paris. He’ll be holding court at a particular werewolf owned and operated club. Those that have chosen to ride this eclipse out in human form, will be there with him.

So again, it comes down a little bit, to a numbers game. The Breukelen pack is the third largest in New York. The Manhattan Maen are far larger than them. But I doubt all of their pack will attempt to get through the eclipse, in the city or in human form.

Like I said before, an eclipse for a werewolf, is a truly strange thing to work your way through. It’s kind of like being a super hero and not being able to use your powers, mix that in with a crazy little thing called lunacy, and you begin to get the idea.

Not all the Breukelen will be riding out the eclipse in human form either. But I’m counting on that. In fact, my sister Bodil will be one of them that will be in werewolf form.

We discussed it. We debated whether she’d be more useful in human form, or as a wolf. We actually planned who out of the Breukelen, should be in wolf form for this, and who should remain in human form to back me. Both forms serve a purpose, and all those in on the plan, have been carefully selected by me and my sister, to ensure this happens just the way I want it to.

There is red war paint on my face the Breukelen’s tribal colour. It represents the blood that connects us to our name, blood of the slain, our ancestors legacy in us. We are Breukelen. Altijd.

There’s war paint on every single Breukelen who’s walking with me to the front of this club. Even the wolves are marked.

I guess that was why the bouncer, who knows me, panicked. He hasn’t seen me like this and he knows something is up, just by those striding up with me. That and I do have my war paint on, it looks like a half facemask that’s bleeding red down my face from my eyes. He pulls out his two-way radio, which Conall quickly snatches out of his hand.

“Don’t.” Conall says staring down the human bouncer who looks from him, to me. One whole side of his face is painted red. Conall throws the two way radio to Christa, my sister’s friend. “You’re up.” He says to her.

Christa grins and I notice for the first time that her lipstick matches her bright, fire engine red, short hair. She has red war paint, like an x across her face, red lips, and red hair. A bizarrely captivating and scary look at the same time.

The bouncer has wisely, remained silent through out our greeting. He looks Christa over. She’s short, but decadent. Decked out in a skin tight black top, and sprayed on lurex pants with black high heeled boots, she’s ready to kick his ass.

One of the reasons she gets along so well with my sister, they both love a good fight. The bouncer looks at me, his eyes pleading with me, not to do whatever I’m going to do.

Too late. There is no stopping now.

“If you do exactly what she says you’ll get through this unharmed. Don’t let her shortness fool you. She’s a werewolf, she can still fuck you up with her bare hands.” I say patting the bouncer’s shoulder and walking past him, the rest of my posse at my back. Christa is fierce. That ain’t no lie.

I like that I don’t have to lie to him. Just install a bit of sensible fear for compliance.

We pause before going inside, letting our eyes adjust to the darkened interior. I’ve already told my pack of humans and wolves, what the layout of the club is.

They know to surround and block the exits, to clear the dance floor for our little exhibition in Breukelen retribution.

Gabe Wakely, Conall’s older brother, and Boden my sister’s best friend, know to cut off Paris, Wiatt and Addison, who will be together from accessing the dance floor. Booker Parish, in lycan wolf form, knows to accompany them and back them up.

I take a deep breath and nod my head once. We flow into the greater part of the club like an unstoppable motion of efficiency. It actually takes longer than I’d thought for the Manhattan Maen to realize what was going on and to react. Which is fine by me.

I just want my piece of Gabby and they are going to let me.

The music dies down immediately when the Manhattan Maen realize they have a problem. I walk onto the far end of the now abandoned and surrounded dance floor. There is a wall of Breukelen wolves, in human form, standing around its edges, their backs turned inwards, so they can survey the Manhattan crowd.

Paris stands up, Addison and Wiatt, rise quickly too. Ready to fight. But they stand still, when they realize it’s me and mine.

“What the fuck?” An angry voice yells.

I look over at the only wolf brave enough or stupid enough, to break rank before commanded by their Alpha pack leader. It’s Bohm who throws his hands into the chest of the Breukelen nearest him, surrounding the dance floor.

Nilche, another of my sister’s close friends, grabs Bohm’s outstretched arm and torques it violently upwards to the point of breaking causing Bohm to cry out in surprised pain and automatically submit to a kneeling position. The tall Amazonian like woman kicks Bohm, straight in the face, while holding him at bay. His head snaps back and blood gushes from his nose. She probably broke it.

“Sit.” Nilche commands of him.

Bohm is staring back up at the dark woman, what a startling sight she is- tall, with green eyes, dark skin and a red band of war paint across her eyes like a mask. Bohm, is messed up and in more pain than he’d normally be in.

He seems to have forgotten, during an eclipse, he can’t do much to fix that. Except endure it, get through it, no shape shifting. And whilst he’s still a werewolf that can probably fight quite well, believe me when I say he’s no match for Nilche. She’s quite harmful, really. That was the way my sister described her to me.

Bohm, still moaning, nods his head and Nilche kicks him in the chest, causing him to fly backwards, on his butt, away from her knocking into his other fellow wolves. Nilche falls back into position and looks as stead fast and focused as the rest of the Breukelen around the dance floor.

I look back down the length of the small dance floor, in Paris’s direction. Conall by my right hand side, Nick Olsen, an Alpha, by my left hand side. He’s carrying Gabby over his shoulder. Her wrists and ankles are bound. Her mouth gagged.

Paris is still standing, his eyes note who’s surrounding him and look back up to what lays beyond Boden, Booker and Gabe. Another wall of Breukelen. I know if I was him, I’d be wondering if I could jump them, at least one lot of those in his way. And I bet he is.

Waitt is looking shocked. Addison, angry and contained, Addison is too smart to break rank. He won’t break rank until Paris tells him he can.

And this is the other advantage I have over the Manhattan Maen that nobody thought about, until they crossed me. I’ve been dating their leader for a year now, dating, living and loving and frequenting their territory and partaking in their habits and rituals. I’ve spent more time in their territory than Brooklyn.

I know this pack. I know how they work and think. Never underestimate this Breukelen Beta wolf.

“This is how we do things, where I’m from.” I say, looking at Paris.

Nick throws Gabby onto the dance floor. It’s a long way down from his shoulder. Gabby’s back smacks into the floor loudly.

Her head hits it too and she groans and tries to breathe through her gag, when two giant werewolves pad out from behind me, Nick and Conall. The wolves are my oldest brother, an Alpha, Aksel and my sister, Bodil who move up to stand either side of Gabby’s downed form.

Still Paris remains silent, watching me. I can’t allow myself to wonder if he’s assessing the situation, or me. We’ve come too far now to back down. That would be the ultimate humiliation and show of weakness. I wouldn’t be letting myself down, I’d be letting down my pack.

Nick hangs back and Conall and I walk up to Gabby. I squat over her, so she can see me, my war-painted face and know exactly what kind of hell she is in for. My black leather gloved hand pulls the gag out of her mouth and throws it away. Gabby gasps and stares back at me angrily.

“I’m going to do more than forgive you Gabby.” I say as Conall un-holsters the bowie knife from his side hip covering and cuts her wrist ties off. He backs off.

My arms reach behind my back.

“I’m going to give you absolution.” I say, producing one of my sai and spinning it in my hands quickly, before her face. Her eyes widen then. I had them coated in silver, especially for this. “If you want it.”

I run my other gloved hand smoothly down the length of her bare arm, pressing down on her hand before stabbing her wrist with the sai suddenly.

Gabby’s face tilts up with and she cries out. She tries to pull her arm away, but I’ve pinned it with the sai, to the floor.

It’s broken through her skin, and bone and wedged into the dance floor underneath. And she’s hopeless to pull it out because as silver, and in human form, during an eclipse, she can’t do much except cry out.

I look up and over at Paris who is still blocked from this area. So far, unable to do more than watch. His eyes are wide in surprise now. Addison is tense. Wiatt is looking from his brother to me again.

Still in my crouch over her body, I transfer my weight to the left side and hold her arm, turned up and flat to the ground.

“Do you know how absolution works Gabby?” I ask tightening my grip on her wrist so it is palm up. She’s not looking at me, still trying to be defiant.

She’s whimpering, but sniffs and clamps her mouth down. She’s trying to be the Alpha. I reach behind my back with my gloved right hand and produce the second, silver coated sai. Her head is turned towards the already pinned wrist.

I spin the sai with a graceful movement, and slam the tip of the sai, through her elbow joint, with enough force to burry a good quarter of the sai, into the dance floor.

I’m working on adrenaline here. It’s amazing how the human body works when in extreme situations. How it comes together, if you know how to harness it.

“It works by forgiving you all your sins and transgressions.” I state as a muffled cry catches in her throat and tears spill down her eyes as the sai pierces her body. “For your guilt associated with your mortal sins.”

I stand back up again and over her, moving back to admire my handy work. “Sounds pretty doesn’t it? Means you don’t go to hell because of what you did to me. But I’m guessing, you’re a werewolf, and were raised in the culture, so you probably don’t really buy all that stuff about hell anyway.”

I wave a hand behind me and Conall moves up again, pulling out the bowie. I catch the slightest movement from my peripheral vision and look up, immediately at Paris.

I hear a low growl behind me. Nick, readying to leap across the floor and straight up into Paris’s face if need be. Both Bodil and Aksel’s wolves lower their heads and start crouching on their legs, readying for attack.

Paris stills and he watches me, closely. It might seem like I’m getting away with this, but the reality is, it’s probably not over yet. I’m bound to have made this whole situation ten times more explosive than it already was.

What’s the fall out going to be?

Conall cuts Gabby’s leg bindings and she has enough fight in her, and pride still, it seems, to kick out at him. But Conall is too fast and jumps back out of her reach.

“Tsk, tsk.” I state, putting my hand out behind me, as Conall hands me the bowie knife.

“Absolution only works if you’re truly, heartfully, contrite. You had the chance to unite as wolf with me, against that woman, that night. Or to act as a human would. And you choose human selfishness.” I state bringing the knife down with a swinging blow, into her calf muscle.

She cries out, unable to remain quiet any longer as the tears streak her face and her body twitches, trying to fight the pain and the pinning. I produce a silver griffin knife from my knife sheath on my hip and look at it, before looking back at Gabby’s bare, untouched, unbound, unpinned leg.

“Now this one, this is going to hurt a bit.” I state swinging it downwards into the arch of her foot. The Griffin knife is a special design of curves and arcs with sharp edges and a blade point. It cuts when it goes in, and it tears, when it comes out.

Her screams fill the deathly silent room. I can’t tell if there are any concerned wolves out there for her, because I’m not watching my surroundings.

That’s up to the guards around the dance floor. But no one has said anything, yelled or broken rank against their Alpha, since Bohm tried and failed.

I stand up watching her body shake uncontrollably.

I look back over to Paris and his two lieutenants. His mouth is gaping open and he’s breathing heavily. I don’t know if it’s shock or anger. I can’t really tell. I walk around Gabby, who’s pinned to the dance floor in a spread eagle position on her back, crying and bleeding before everyone.

I walk down towards Paris, Aksel and Bodil’s wolves remain guarding Gabby. Nick and Conall walk just behind me as I approach the Manhattan Maen, Alpha, pack leader. My boyfriend.

Boden and Gage move apart, creating a hole in the wall for me, to walk through, right up to the Alpha’s table. Booker the lycan wolf moves by my side with me up the small step towards Paris’s area with the boys.

“Are you fucking mad? Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done?” Wiatt yells at me, suddenly unable to hold back any longer. But I’m only looking at Paris, who has remained silent throughout. I turn my head to Wiatt.

“Get out.” I snarl at him causing Booker to growl at him, bearing his teeth in a menacing snarl.

“This is the Alpha’s table,” Wiatt continues to yell at me. “If anyone’s leaving here it’s...” He stops when Paris holds up a hand.

“I know this is the Alpha’s table Wiatt. That’s why I’m here. So if you’re in, sit down and shut up. Or are you out?” I say at him while holding eye contact with Paris. He gets it, I know he does.

Wiatt looks from me to Paris and sits down quietly. Addison follows his lead and sits down quietly beside Paris on the opposite side of the table to me. At the same time Paris sits down. He hasn’t broken eye contact with me yet. I sit down, with, Nick and Conall all standing guard behind me.

We’re all seated and silent. Addison speaks first.

“How the hell did you do? She’s pinned to the god damn floor. It’s an eclipse, you shouldn’t have the…” He waves a hand at me as he speaks, “Ability or strength to be able to do that.”

I turn my head to look at Addison, darkly.

“There is so much you don’t know about me Addison. I’m a Breukelen wolf, we were schooled differently in how to get through an eclipse than the Maen wolves.” I turn my attention back to Paris, who’s looking deadly serious.

“Leave us.” Paris says to Wiatt and Addison, with a turn of his head, his eyes still on me.

“No.” Addison states firmly, glaring at me. “I’m not leaving you alone in her company. She’s dangerous.”

“Which is the point she came here to prove. Now leave us.” Paris say calmly as Addison huffs his disbelief at what he’s hearing. See, I knew he got it. The two males leave us, brushing past Nick and Conall aggressively, on purpose. Both Nick and Conall remain stoic and unimpressed with the baiting. They know the plan and they will stick to it, for me.

“I wish my mother was here to see this.” Paris says sitting back casually. “She’d be impressed with you now. Probably even think you were worthy of her son.”

It’s my turn to remain silent. This is awkward. But I knew it would be. I knew it would come to this confrontation eventually. It has to, to reach a conclusion.

“So, how does this end?” Paris asks me softly. “Are you just going to let Gabby bleed to death out there. Are you going to be a killer, is that it? Playing in the big leagues now, with the Alphas? You have got to follow through if you’re going down that path or it’s all for naught.”

“You should know.” I say before I realize I’ve even said it. Instantly regretting the words. I see a small muscle pulsate in Paris’s jaw.

“I do know.” He throws back at me. “It comes with being who I am. But that’s not you.”

“I’m a Breukelen, that was made abundantly clear to me, when your pack witnessed Gabby stabbing me and dragging me out of here. No one stopped her or helped me.

They need to know what being a Breukelen means.” I say, trying to remain calm, even though saying those words makes me angry.

“So you thought you’d get her back in a similar manner? Is that it? What happened to an eye for an eye and the world goes blind?” He asks, leaning forward and placing his hands together on the table top.

I look at those hands and back up at his face.

“Nobody here has gone blind. In fact, I was rather grateful for the audience. I need them to see this. I need them to remember this. They will think twice about me now. Besides, you and I both know what I did here was damn generous to her. She hasn’t been abandoned. She’s surrounded by her pack.” I say leaning forward towards him. “And we had her for a day before this, so if I really wanted to, I could’ve done much worse, already.”

He pulls back and sits against the booth, I straighten up too.

“I have no way of knowing you haven’t, do I? Other than to take you at your word. Which right now, how do I know I can trust? You didn’t tell me you planned to do this. You’ve played this out with your entire pack, like a declaration of war on mine. Do you know what that means to me? What I have to do in my position as Pack Leader?”

“You have to make a decision. I get it. I was, I am, prepared for that.”

This causes him to raise his eyebrows in surprise and he leans forward again onto the table, this time, it seems he’s a little frustrated with me.

“Did the claiming the other night, mean anything to you? Did it mean anything at all to you?” He asks his voice low and angry at me. I lean forwards again towards him, across the table top.

“Yes, it meant a great deal to me. It meant, I can’t be with you, if Gabby is just going to be allowed to come at me, whenever she likes to try and pull us apart. It meant, that to be together, we can’t be played by other wolves.

They can not be allowed to use our packs against us. It means, I’m a Breukelen werewolf first and foremost and your girlfriend second.”

“Really? Because I was wondering if this was your attempted way of breaking up with me, since you know I won’t give you up easily.” He says, his voice getting harsher. “Because you’ve put me in a god damn awkward position here. You are asking me to make a choice between you and my pack. Gabby is part of my pack, a wolf who comes under my leadership and therefore, protection.”

I gulp down a vat of nervous saliva. I know what I have to say here. I don’t want to. But I will.

“I’m not asking. I’ve already accepted you’ll choose the pack.” I swear it feels like my throat is closing up on me, like anaphylactic shock. I put a hand to my throat.

“And just for the record, I didn’t start this war. She did, your pack wolf did, when she attacked me, a guest if anything else, in your territory, in defiance of her own pack leader. This is the follow through. We’re not being lax about it here.” I said the words, but the reality is I haven’t accepted it at all. His eyes follow the movement of his hand.

“No you haven’t but nice try. How’d that feel coming out of your mouth?”

“Like charcoal.”

He nods his head. “Up until then, you were doing really well with the whole playing Alpha thing.” He says in a low voice. A small smile quirking at the corner of his mouth briefly.

“The hand. A bit of a stupid, impulse.”

“You’re only tell.” He says back at me. “So I think we can both agree, this thing isn’t over then.”

I grit my teeth hard. “The hell it isn’t. This is the deal, so listen up.” I hiss at him lurching forward slightly and reigning back in my anger at his disregard for all that I’ve pulled off here, under his nose.

“You can either let Gabby lay there, until the pain is too great for her and she says sorry to me, or you can leave her there until the end of the shifting time of the eclipse. Whatever comes first.”

“And if I don’t like those options?”

“This is not a negotiation.”

“I can see that.” He mutters back at me. “But if I declare war against the Breukelen?”

“Every Breukelen here is prepared for that. Including me and this time, you can believe me when I say the words.” I say at him heatedly. Paris nods his head and looks away and out towards the wall of Breukelen, surrounding the dance floor.

Damn. I just played my last card and it’s about to be thrown back at me. Part of me had hoped it wouldn’t, that he really wouldn’t. But he’s an Alpha, Paris has to. A part of me knew that would be the only outcome here. Shit. I have to hold onto my anger, otherwise I’ll start crying. Shit.

“When I said this thing wasn’t over yet, I meant, us, between us. Not the Gabby thing.”

I look a little surprised. Is he playing with me now? Cause that would be far crueller than being staked to a nightclub floor with some knives and sai.

“So if we leave Gabby there, she could bleed to death before twelve hours is up.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t get anything vital in her.”

“’Pretty sure’ isn’t much to go on.” He says in a low voice to me.

I sigh heavily. “The sai aren’t silver, they’re just silver coated. The Bowie’s not silver it’s metal.”

“And the super nasty looking knife?”

“A Breukelen special, griffin knife. Uh, no, that one is silver an it’s going to hurt pulling it out, as much as it hurt, going in.”

Paris nods his head in understanding. “So if I agree to let her stay there, pinned for the full twelve hours, or until she says sorry to you,”

“Whatever comes first.” I cut in.

He waves a finger at me. “Second tell, too eager. Don’t be eager, don’t offer excitement, otherwise you’re negotiations are over. Because I know you got nothing else, this is what you came here for.” He says. “I got your emotional response. It’s all I need to know to work you out of your game plan.” He says. “To have the upper hand.”

“Believe me, this is not a negotiation.” I say again in a soft voice. “This isn’t a hustle. This is the deal in how we do things, as Breukelen. Why do you think all the Alphas here with me are letting me proceed with this? Because they believe in my plan and in me to carry it out, completely.” I sit back against the booth back, watching him. “Without hesitation.”

Paris smiles as me and gives a small shake of his head. “Damn you are impressive.”

“It’s why you dated me.”

“Am dating you.” He fires back. “Still dating.”

“Your pack needs to know, that regardless of what they personally think of me, and whether they accept me, that they have to pay attention to me and respect that I’m dating their pack leader. I’m his pack mate. And neither he, or I, are weak and will be taken advantage of by them. Ever.”

He smiles broadly at me. “Highly impressive.” He says softly. “You solve the problem for both of us, by allowing me to keep my standing, by agreeing to make an example of Gabby as a means to her punishment, for her defiance of her pack leader by starting this. And by allowing my pack mate, to perform the punishment herself. So everybody wins. How did Bodil and I miss that?”

I shrug my shoulders. “So impressive.” He mutters leaning forward again and before I know it, he’s moved with more speed than I would’ve thought possible. Maybe he just caught me off guard.

Paris reaches for me. Grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me across the table top. My legs kick out, knocking the shot glasses over, sending them flying everywhere. A wolf snarls and Booker leaps up onto the spare bit of seat next to Paris, snapping at him just as I land in Paris’s lap.

“Booker, right?” He says softly, looking at the lycan wolf, leaning back out of reach of Bookers snarling fangs. The lycan presses his large paws on Paris’s chest and produces his claws slowly. First, last and only warning. If Booker the lycan were to tear Paris’s throat out now, he’d die a very horrible, human death.

“Yeah.”

“Thought I recognized him. Chill, I just want to kiss her. She’s kind of turned me on.” Paris states, loosing his grip on me, as I sit in his lap. Booker doesn’t move a muscle.

“Please tell him I just want to kiss you.”

I look at Paris who’s still eyeing Booker off.

“Booker!” I yell at him. “Step off, its fine.” I say and ignore the wolf turning into Paris as he puts his hands on my face, and pulls me in to kiss him. He’s desperate to feel me again, pulling me into his chest and devouring my mouth, heatedly. I feel the lycan wolf back down and out of the booth as Paris and I consume one another’s lips.

“Okay, I agree to leave Gabby there until she learns her manners, or the twelve hours is over, whatever comes first. Nobody will go near her, I swear. The Breukelen are welcome to stay on as guests of the Manhattan Maen. No harm will come to them. But you really have to tell me how you did that little strength trick, during an eclipse.”

“Pack secret.” I state smiling back at him.

“Huh. See about that.” He mutters kissing me again before pulling apart and looking out of the booth.

“Addison!” He commands the other Alpha male. Addison walks back over, stopping before Nick who’s still holding guard outside of Paris’s table. “Nobody touches Gabby until she says sorry or the shift time is over, whatever comes first. Make it happen.” Addison nods his head and walks off again.

“Wiatt!” Paris yells at his brother, who comes over quickly. “Get us a couple round of drinks here and for the Breukelen, they are our guests tonight and nobody is to touch them.”

Wiatt nods his head and moves off. “And for god sakes, somebody get Bohm an icepack.” He says off hand, seeing Bohm holding his tilted head back, as his nose continues to bleed.

“For what’s it worth,” I state looking at Paris. “I don’t think she’ll hold out for twelve hours.”

Paris looks out at the dance floor. “Gabby’s got a lot of pride.” He says back at me. “Not that it can’t be shot down a notch or two.” He mutters, glancing over his shoulder “Play the damn music again!” he yells in the direction of the DJ booth.

“Come on.” He says dragging me out of the booth and holding my hand. Walking me out past Conall and Nick who I assure everything is alright, out onto the dance floor, where Bodil and Aksel’s wolves sit either side of Gabby’s pinned body, guarding her.

“Who are the wolves?” He asks leaning into my ear, as we get closer.

“I don’t think you’ve met my brother Aksel yet,” I say pointing to the werewolf on the left. “And Bodil, you know, when she’s not, you know, furry.” I say pointing out the other werewolf.

He nods his head and still holding my hand walks around Bodil to look down at Gabby, who is crying softly now. She sees through her tears to look up at Paris and I, side by side.

“I told you once before, this is my wolf.” He says slipping an arm around my waist. “You come at her again,” He says letting go of me and crouching down beside Gabby. Her eyes track his movement as he puts his hand on the taped griffin knife handle.

My mouth drops open to protest, that we had an agreement. But he yanks the knife out of her suddenly causing her to scream out in fresh agony. As the wickedly designed silver knife, cuts her as it is pulled up.

“Then you better come at me, too.” He states plunging the knife back into her foot.

Gabby doesn’t even try and not cry out. It’s impossible to withhold the onslaught of pain that’s being inflicted on her. Her agony is heard over the sound of the music. It can not be ignored or drowned out in such a small venue.

She’s being made an example of. She’s being humiliated in front of her pack.

She’s being disgraced by her pack leader. She’s been put in her place by a Breukelen Beta wolf.

Me.