Trey

Breaking up with Sheridan—hurting her—makes me want to vomit. I shut myself in my room the next day, smoking weed and trying to forget.

My mom knocks a couple times, but I don’t let her in.

She knows what this is. What I’ve done—for her.

It’s not just for her, though. It’s for Sheridan, too. I keep reminding myself that, every time her tear-bright eyes swim before my face. She may have sent the acceptance to Stanford in, but she didn’t want to go.

I need to do this—not because her dad is an asshole, not because my mom’s position in the pack is in danger, but because it’s the right thing for Sheridan. She’ll get over this hurt and make something of herself. She’ll be stronger for it.

She texts me around four in the afternoon.

Sheridan: Is this about Stanford??

I tongue my lip ring, staring at the screen.

Fuck. She’s too damn smart—she knows what I’m doing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I need to seek out and stomp that part of me that’s happy she knows. That’s relieved that she still believes in me, that she understands I would never hurt her unless I had to.

If I let her believe I’m the good guy, she still won’t leave. My mom will still be fucked.

I drag my ass out of bed. A new strategy forms in my head. The fact that it physically makes me ill tells me it’s going to work.

Sheridan

Once again I find myself clambering down the wall of the river basin in the middle of the night. The shifter equivalent of pistols at dawn.

I lose my footing and skid down the dry rocks.

“Need help?” I startle at the sudden voice at my elbow. Nero appears next to me.

“No,” I snap. It was his stupid fault I’m here anyway, scuffing the hell outta my Doc Martens. Well, his and Trey’s.

Stupid male wolves. Gotta piss on everything to prove they own it.

“Not gonna piss on me,” I mutter.

“Pardon?” The vampire oozes down the side of the arroyo, his snakeskin cowboy boots never seeming to touch the ground.

“Nothing.” I reach the bottom of the basin and look around. There are a few humans down here, frat boy types standing around a fire they made in a metal trash can, laughing and passing around a bottle of cheap liquor. Vampire hangarounds. Facing them, silent, are Trey and Jared. Grizz is a huge shadow lurking behind them.

“Who needs the fight club when we have this?” Nero spreads his arms at the scene.

I stop and wrinkle my nose at the barren landscape, like an alien planet. The fight club has tons of charm compared to this.

“Well, leech,” Trey shouts as Nero and I tromp towards him. “What’s it gonna be? You ready to fight?”

Nero disappears from my side and reappears a few feet away, closer to Trey. I control my reaction, forcing my heartbeat to slow. I hate it when leeches do that. Not all of them can, but Lucius and his children seem to be particularly powerful.

“I will not be fighting. You heard my master.” Is it my imagination, or did Nero grimace when he said the word master? Maybe the Frangelico Empire is headed for a coup.

“What am I doing here then? Wasting my time?” Trey stretches his arms out in mockery of the vampire’s previous gesture.

Don’t bait the bloodsucker. It’s not a quote from my wisdom calendar, but it should be. Never mock a vampire. Life advice by Dracula.

“No. I have someone for you to fight. Once you realize who, you may not be so eager.”

“Like you can get a shifter to do your dirty work. Bring it on.”

Nero clears his throat.

It takes me a moment to realize the fighter Nero refers to. When I do, my heart sinks.

Slowly, Grizz prowls around Trey and Jared and takes his place next to the vampire, facing them.

“No,” I whisper.

“Sorry, boss.” The grizzly rubs his scarred face, a tortured expression showing his conflict.

“Grizz?”

I can’t see Trey’s expression, but my heart cracks at the hopelessness in his voice.

“How long?” Jared snarls, stepping forward. Trey plants a hand on his friend’s chest, holding him back from rushing the grizzly. “How long have you worked for the vampires?”

“Since before I met you.” Grizz wraps his hands, not looking at anyone. Nero glances at him, smirking.

Trey shakes his head, and I feel sick by the hurt on his face. I know that look. He wore it the night Alpha Green threw them out for dealing pot and dishonoring the pack. The night I betrayed him.

“Trey.” I hurry to his side, but he doesn’t even look at me.

“Let’s get this over with,” Jared mutters and Grizz takes his place between the rocks. Jared rattles off a bunch of rules, including the out of bound areas, marked by larger stones.

Trey bows his head and flexes his fists. Grizz is a large, hulking mountain. I sense his regret, even though his scarred face just looks weary. What sort of hold do the vampires have on him, to get the loner grizzly under their control?

Jared finishes talking and backs out from in between the fighters. Nero and I stand opposite each other. The human hangarounds trickle over to the fight area, laughing and jeering until I growl at them.

Trey and Grizz ignore everyone but Jared, until he signals the fight to start. Then they focus on each other, so intent I expect electricity to crackle between them. Trey paces slowly around the edge of an imaginary circle. One of the humans throws a beer can. It hits the boundary rock with a crack like a shot. Neither Trey or Grizz blink.

Please, please, let this be over soon. I fight to relax my shoulders and unclench my fists. Trey glances at me and for a moment I think he’s gonna stop this madness and throw the fight.

Then he snaps into action and rushes Grizz, who roars loud enough to shake the ground. Fists lash out, Trey twisting at the last second to land a useless blow on the grizzly’s massive arm. I swallow my heart, only to have it leap into my throat again when Grizz chases Trey, lumbering like the bear he is with incredible speed. Punches land with horrible thunks. I close my eyes a moment, but the smell of blood and the watchers’ excitement are worse than watching the hits. I cover my ears instead.

The fighters exchange blow after blow. It’s nothing like the graceful dance I witnessed when Trey fought before. This is raw and brutal, two apex predators doing their best to maim each other. Shifters can heal, yes, but when you break a bone, it can take a while, and it still hurts. It hurts bad.

“Enough,” someone screams. I’m across the invisible boundary and between the fighters before I realize it’s me; I’m the one who screamed. I turn to Trey, pleading. “Enough.”

“Sheridan, get out of the way, baby.” He motions to me. His face is cut and swollen. With as much damage as he’s taken, his body will heal much slower.

“I can’t. I can’t watch this anymore. I can’t let you do this!”

“Sweetheart,” Trey whispers. “Please.”

A movement behind me makes me whirl in time to see four hundred pounds of angry grizzly charging at me.

At the last second, I pivot and duck under his claws, set my shoulder into his abs and roll him off my back. He crashes into the dirt. The rocks around us rumble.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

The cheering cuts off like someone flipped a switch. The humans stare at me like they can’t believe what I’ve done.

“That’s enough,” I repeat. “It’s over. Everyone...go home.”

A hiss, like steam escaping, slices the air. I whirl to face the vampire, and fight not to duck my head or tuck my tail. His face has transformed somehow, a monstrous caricature of something once human. Is this how vampires really look? “This isn’t over, wolf,” Nero says, and disappears.

Grizz rises slowly.

“You all right?” I ask him, but he ignores me. There’s a nasty gash from a rock on the back of his head, already healing. He ignores that too.

“It wasn’t personal,” he tells Trey and Jared.

Trey frowns, and catches Jared’s arm. Together they turn and walk back the way they came. The kids around the trashcan fire are already gone.

“Trey, wait,” I shout. He waits. Jared looks back, shaking his head at both Grizz and me. He doesn’t say anything, but I know what he and Trey are thinking.

Betrayed by one of their own. Again.

I reach out to touch the wounds on Trey’s face, but he jerks back. “Trey, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, weariness shadowing his face, making the bruises and cuts look even more disastrous. I can’t believe he fought a grizzly bear.

“You shouldn’t be messed up in any of this,” he says. He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds ancient. Dead. He rubs his hand over his face. “You were getting glamoured by the vamp in there, and you’re stepping in the middle of shifter fights in a fucking wash. You were born for so much better than this seedy life.”

My eyes widen in alarm. What is he saying? This sounds like a freaking breakup. And he only marked me last night.

But I am sick of other people deciding what I was born for. I wasn’t born to rule a pack. That job was for my brother. Or Garrett. Just because my father’s pushed me into taking my brother’s role, doesn’t mean I belong in it. Yeah, I might do a damn good job, but that doesn’t mean I want it.

I haven’t been happy since—heck, since Trey and I split twelve years ago.

The first time he decided he knew better than me about what I should do with my life.

“You know what, Robson?” I snap.

My irritation catches Trey’s attention, wakes him from his stupor. “What?” He’s wary now, knows I have a bee in my bonnet.

“You don’t get to choose for me. This is my life.” I point at my chest. “It’s not for you to decide what’s safe for me, and what’s dangerous. Or what I should be mixed up in, or what college I go to.”

He recoils at the mention of our first breakup. His skin pales under the moonlight, eyes grow haunted. “I’m sorry, Sheridan. I know I hurt you—I hurt us. But—” He stares over at “A” Mountain—the peak that bears the University of Arizona letter—and shakes his head. “I’d do it all over again. I’d do whatever it takes to make sure you live the life a wolf of your potential deserves.”

Tears of fury spring into my eyes. I shove his chest and when he wheezes, I realize with horror, he probably has broken ribs. I stumble back from him. Can the two of us ever be together without hurting each other?

“You’re not listening to me, Trey. You. Don’t. Get. To choose for me. And until you figure that out, we have no future together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s how it has to be.” His bloody lips barely move.

Hot tears spill down my cheeks. I turn on my heel. “You’re an idiot, Trey Robson!” I shout over my shoulder as I march off to my car.