It was the roar that woke him up.

The sound of the crowd, shrieking and jeering. Wolves snarled in the distance and the clanging of metal only seemed to play a bass beat to the other sounds he could hear. Dallas didn’t want to open his eyes—he wanted to stay in the protective darkness his wolf had to offer. He hadn’t changed, though it wasn’t for the wolf’s lack of trying. He’d been hit in the head too badly to change without cooperation from both parties, and the wolf was increasingly more frantic to find that chance to change.

Dallas opened his eyes, the thunderous throbbing in his skull making the action more difficult. For a moment he’d thought perhaps he’d gotten black eyes; his head felt as if it were exploding. Dallas squeezed his eyes shut again as his vision swam and flashes of pain crossed his vision. He was still coming around, unsure of where he was. His wolf seemed to think something was quite urgent—though he couldn’t quite place what that was.

This time when he opened his eyes, it was much slower. He was careful not to rush himself, and did his best to open them slowly enough to keep even the dim lights from hurting him. His body didn’t want to respond to his call to move, but more and more his wolf was panicking, and Dallas suspected they had reason to.

This time he caught glimpses of a huge metal cage around him. It was roughly twenty feet across, with a door on one end. The room was dark with only one or two lights visible in the distance, giving off a dim grimey glow. Glancing around, Dallas could see the eyes and teeth of a veritable sea of wolves. He could see some he recognized—others he did not. Some were in wolf form, pacing restlessly around the cage’s bars, biting and wrestling with each other in a frenzy of activity just on the other side of the bars.

Then the stench caught him. The terrible odor that absolutely permeated the floor he lay upon. Urine, blood, old sweat, fear, and excitement permeated the cramped room like a miasma, completely covering the entirety of the room though worst on the ground where he now lay. Others had died here, in fear and in pain. The reality was that now Dallas would have to face the same fate—and that alone terrified him.

As he stared around the room, looking for faces he knew well—Agnes, Bhavin, or even Roman—he was relieved to find none of them in the jeering crowd that paced around his cage like hungry animals. As if they themselves wished to be the ones to rip into him. Fear slid down his spine, his wolf nearly wresting control from him in that moment though Dallas held on by the barest of inches.

Not yet, he told the wolf. Soon. But not yet. The wolf replied with frantic emotion, but began to calm, doing it’s best to find a solution that would benefit them both. He could feel the wolf nearly pacing, in so far as the presence that now shared his body could. He knew that he was not alone in this at least, and that was more comforting than he’d realized it to be.

Dallas spat the coppery tasting saliva from his mouth, unsurprised when old blood mixed with the saliva. The wolf who had hit him hadn’t been playing around and had intended to knock him out—or even perhaps kill him—before he changed. Wolves had a hard time hurting an Omega severely. They could injure him, sure, but for the most part only the strong among the wolves could hurt the Omega.

The wolves began to quiet, slowly silencing all the members in the room until there was absolute silence. The tension in the air remained, the predatory arousal of so many wolves obvious. Dallas had gotten to his feet, though he wobbled slightly. His side was numb where he’d lay on the cold, hard concrete floor. Filth stuck to his ripped jacket, and he felt terribly dizzy. Again his wolf tried in vain to force the change, and again Dallas thwarted it.

Patience, love. We don’t know what might happen, and perhaps I can negotiate. You will have to be ready to guide the change when it is time. Rest, be ready. He thought of his wolf and it’s beauty, it’s wise intelligence. The ideas seemed to relax his other half, and eventually the beastial nature settled in alongside his own; trusting that they would be alright.

Only when he’d realized the wolves were parting did he realize they were waiting for something. A slow, shambling shape was making its way through the crowd, followed by a procession of others. As the first passed, the wolves were silent. As the second and third passed, they began to growl—by the fourth interloper they were actively growling and trying to swat at whoever it was.

The first person who came into sight was the Pack Alpha. He wore a sharply tailored black suit, though the pinstripes were visible even to the Omega’s eyes. His tie was red, and his thin hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail behind his head. He did not walk with a cane, though his steps were slightly hitched as if he were not used to walking very often anymore. Roman’s father slowly made his way to the apex of the cage, the crowd clearing to reveal his destination.

The chair was like nothing that Dallas had ever seen. It was a throne, though its make up was a macabre one. Within the inlay of the chair were skeletons intertwined. They were intimately embracing each other, themselves, the wolf skeletons that laced through the human ones. Only when he realized the extent of the fine details did he also realize that they were not carvings, but honest bones.

The Pack Alpha climbed the three small stairs that led to the throne and turned, sitting himself in the overbearing monstrosity. The skeletons placed so that their skulls lined the top of the high back chair cast a shade over the man’s face, and he looked as if soon enough he might join the anguished gazes of the hollowed skulls above him. A furious part of Dallas only hoped so. The Pack Alpha did not so much as look at him, instead watching as two figures hauled the third one in.

The pair that came before the prisoner held chains, their grim expressions one of obvious displeasure—they certainly didn’t seem to enjoy what they were doing. The man was Bhavin, and from Roman’s description of the woman, he could only surmise that the tall silvery-blonde woman was Bhavin’s mate and wife, Victoria. They stopped only when they’d brought the cuffed man to kneel before the Pack Alpha, his face towards the cage.

Dallas at first thought he was a stranger, perhaps a lone wolf that would be thrown in the cage to kill him. Roman had warned him that lone wolves did not behave as wolves in a pack did, and that had been the first thought the Omega had. However, upon close inspection, the werewolf in chains was Roman. Dallas' heart sank as his eyes met that of the wolf he’d left behind only hours before. His stomach tightened in anxiety, and for a moment Dallas wasn’t sure what to do.

Would Roman reject him outright, now? Would the heir to the throne publicly cast out the young wolf? Almost immediately, Dallas' wolf snubbed the idea for what it was—complete poppycock. The two halves of his soul both knew that they would suffer no rejection from the Alpha to be. Roman had stuck by them despite the easier path—he could have killed the Omega and been done with it.

Roman’s eyes found Dallas', and while they were hazy with exhaustion and pain, it was clear the man was focused only on the Omega. Even with the gaze of the hungry wolves on them both, the only one who mattered to Dallas was Roman, and it was clear that the Alpha-to-be felt the same. His teeth bit into his lip, and for a moment Roman began to stir at his bonds as if he might try to escape them.

Immediately, Dallas knew what would happen—if Roman tried to fight, he’d either have to kill the two wolves holding him—which he could do, though he loved them dearly—or the rest of the wolves would kill him before he got to his feet. In the condition he was in currently, it was clear that neither was a viable option. Dallas gave a tiny shake of his head, letting the blonde know it wasn’t a good idea.

It was clear to the both of them that the Alpha’s wolf was driven to protect the Omega. Victoria and Bhavin were not only the Pack Alpha’s seconds, but Dallas had seen their affection for Roman. Sending these two to retrieve him had been a ploy by the Pack Alpha, and Dallas saw it for what it was. It had been meant to distract and possibly upset the Omega, which would tilt the odds even more out of his favor.

“Now, I think we all know why we’re here, but I'll tell you just the same,” came the booming voice of the Pack Alpha. The wolves around him paced restlessly, as if his voice made them uncomfortable.

“Before us stands Dallas Summers. The Omega bitten by my son, who was given until the Wolf Moon tomorrow night to prove himself pack-worthy. On the eve of his trial, he was found running along the property line and upon discovery attempted to escape the property. He has been brought before you all to face justice, as will his Sire.”

For a long moment, the room was hushed. Dallas' heart skipped a beat as the words sank into him like a particularly sharp knife. His eyes met Roman’s, and in that moment, he knew that the blonde had known all the while and never told him. Should Dallas fail his trial, Roman would be executed along with the Omega.

Roman’s eyes remained on Dallas, and in that instant Dallas knew that it hadn’t mattered to Roman—that he would have done anything to keep the Omega alive. He would have saved him even from that fate, at the cost of his own life. That no matter how he’d fought, he would keep fighting, if only for Dallas to live a few moments longer. Dallas had tried to convince himself it was due to the pups—due to duty, yet he’d never said a word about either of those things until he’d told the Omega he wanted him to stay the night before. Tears welled in his eyes, suddenly spilling down his cheeks. Roman had loved him since the beginning.

“We will judge the man and the wolf as one, as they are as close to it as possible. We will allow only one trial, and the trial that has been chosen is that of the bloodsport.” There was a raucous cheer sent up through the crowd of wolves around them, and immediately Roman paled. Dallas didn’t have to ask why—he already knew. That meant he’d have to fight, and he was not nearly as skilled as Roman would have liked him to be. The two exchanged glances, and Roman’s wolf was more in the front than the man, the wolf’s glare was meant for the audience, and not the Omega.

“You will have five minutes to change and prepare. The first one who cannot stand again is the loser, and the one who kills him is the winner. Death is the only escape from a trial such as this, Summers. You will kill or be killed, and should you be badly injured enough, you will be killed as mercy. In this case too, you and your Sire will die.”

A howl of excitement went up, and the cheers continued. Wolves rattled the cage around him, sending bits of rust pebbling on the ground. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation; yet only Roman mattered to him. Dallas walked purposefully to the bars closest to the man, and when he knelt down to be at eye level, Roman strained against his bonds if only to be millimeters closer.

For a moment he looked as vulnerable and afraid as Dallas felt. Tears had begun to well in those fearful gray-blue eyes, and for once the stoic confidence was nowhere to be seen. Dallas reached through the bars, his finger tips only just brushing against his lover's dark beard. Roman leaned into his touch, hungry for even the slight affection given. Though Victoria and Bhavin held him where he was supposed to be, the chains trembled with the effort Roman put forward to get just a little bit closer.

“I’m sorry, Roman. I shouldn’t have run,” Dallas whispered.

“Don’t be sorry. You were scared. I understand,” Roman murmured, his eyes still on Dallas, “...You can do this. I know you can. Embrace your wolf.”

“I’ll try, I…I’m just…I’m scared.”

“I know. Dallas…”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

For a long moment the two stayed with eyes interlocked, until Dallas had to look away, tears running freely down his cheeks. He stood and began to strip off his clothes, his back to Roman. He would need to focus entirely on the change if he wanted to quickly switch to his wolf form. This time, with Roman nearby and giving completely into his wolf, the change was over in record time.

Dallas could hear the murmurs of several surprised patrons, and even more a short grunt of approval from the Pack Alpha. However, the curiosity over the shape of his wolf turned quickly into dire predictions—after all, he was much smaller than any wolf the others had seen before. Roman had told him he looked a bit more like a dhole then a wolf, and they’d both chalked it up to his heritage. Dallas only hoped it would benefit him in this fight now.

He stood his ground, feet splayed and body at a ready position. His ears were pinned to his skull, and he tried to focus only on what would happen after this moment. The wolf held the fore, ready and willing to defend himself, and more so the pups he was confident he held as well. Dallas was unsure as of yet, but the way his wolf had responded seemed to indicate that he was in fact correct.

The gate across from him began to slowly crackle open; a chute obviously leading into a holding pen beyond was visible. The tunnel’s floor was packed dirt, and for a moment the small wolf thought of running through the gate and trying to hide somewhere else. Anywhere else. That was when he felt the confidence of the Omega wolf; the way the wolf stood his ground, Dallas realized that he was the only one of the pair of them that had any intention of running. The wolf was ready to end this show and rescue his Alpha.

The wolf that was ushered forth sent a roar from the crowd all over again. The animal snarled as it made its way through the chute, the patrons banging against the wooden chute and harassing the wolf. When it emerged into the cage it seemed disoriented, shaking itself in the dim light that had been cast over the cage. He stared around himself for a long moment, as if he wasn’t sure where he was or why he’d been coaxed into the cage to begin with.

The wolf was massive, its head disproportionate to its body. It was gray-black all over with a lighter chest and down into its front paws. Gold-green eyes stared out of the dark face, and Dallas could see he was covered in scars, his fur criss-crossed into tufts stuck up in different directions. He was old—not as old as Roman’s father; but certainly older than Roman.

The wolf turned his attention finally towards the little wolf, who watched him with bright, clear eyes. The massive animal froze, staring at Dallas with almost laser-like intensity. For a moment Dallas thought he might not attack at all; but his muscles gave him away. Dallas saw the windup and the spring as the wolf suddenly threw himself at the Omega. Dallas responded in kind, charging the wolf before suddenly flattening himself down just as they were to collide.

The huge wolf went sailing over him, and Dallas turned to bite into his hind leg. He missed the first time; catching only fur of the gray wolf’s tail before he bound away, keeping distance between them. The wolf turned almost as quickly as the Omega and when he did, he snapped his jaws closed. The sound was impressive—as was how close he’d gotten to the little wolf.

Dallas bounded away again, this time sprinting to the opposite side of the cage. Something caught the wolf’s attention however: their rival had a weakness. He’d seen it during the last pass, when the huge wolf should have been able to grab him mid-flight. The venerable old wolf was nearly blind with cataracts in one eye. Dallas would do his best to utilize the advantage he was given.

The crowd roared, banging against the cage. The veteran wolf turned and snarled at them, rage driving him to snap and bite at the bars; and eventually nearly catching a cackling patron. Dallas didn’t think—he ran into and bit the wolf on the thigh, digging his teeth deep into flesh and ripping with sharp quick movements. The massive wolf snarled and turned, catching Dallas by the flank and throwing him with the force of his shake.

Dallas hit the ground a few feet away and scrambled to his feet, feeling his thigh and hip now dripping with blood. His wolf assured him the wounds were superficial, that the pain would mellow and die away quickly, as the bite had only gone through flesh and nothing more. More importantly, he needed to get away from the jaws that pursued him relentlessly.

As they circled each other again, Dallas decided they would tire the old wolf out; circling and mock lunging. After all, he was huge and rather strong, but Dallas had endurance and speed on his side. If they’d given him a smaller opponent he might have been in more trouble, but as it was he had been given a plethora of openings—not to mention, this was only a wolf now.

Dallas had reached out with his senses, looking for any measure of intelligence, or a sliver of humanity left within the wolf. He hadn’t found it. Whatever had happened to this lone wolf in the past, there was no humanity to him—only the wolf. The wolf had no sense of real strategy and pursued Dallas at every turn.

Dallas had begun to harry the veteran wolf, sneaking in to bite at every opportunity he got. He nipped here and there, biting and drawing blood where he could. However, whenever he could get the huge wolf to chase him he did. Eventually, the beast began to slow in his reactions. Dallas knew that he was nearing the end of his stamina, and so this time his assault was for a more vital artery in the inside of the wolf’s thigh. As the gray wolf charged him, Dallas ducked to the right, biting not only at the wolf’s front leg, but ducking under him and biting at the artery at the other thigh. He felt his teeth lock together, and the spray of hot blood pump into his mouth.

Then he felt the teeth close on his hips, drawing his mouth open in a shriek as he tried to turn to defend himself. The huge wolf had gotten him by both hips, his jaws grotesquely wide enough to grip both sides of the smaller wolf. Dallas scrambled, trying to bite at the wolf who held him. He shrieked and snarled again, though this time the wolf simply tightened its vice like grip and began to shake Dallas.

The red wolf was limp, tossed to and fro like a ragdoll much to the amusement of the crowd. He could hear Roman’s enraged screaming, but he couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from. Finally the massive canine released him, sending his body slamming into the bars of the cage. He hit with a clang, pain lancing down his hind legs and over his shoulders and right side where he’d collided with the cold metal.

He had to get up, if only he knew which direction up was. As his vision began to clear, he could see his opponent stalking towards him, limping badly. Dallas struggled to his feet, slipping and falling twice as he tried to force his hind legs to hold their own weight. He was injured, his spine ached, and his head throbbed with pain. Despite it, he knew he had to finish the wolf off.

Just a little more, love, we can do this, he tried to coax the wolf. He could already feel the wolf trying desperately to get to its feet, and with the gentlest brush of encouragement he found his footing, if shaky. In a moment of defiance, the Omega snarled, his challenge a clear one—come for me, or I will kill you.

The gray charged him suddenly, paws reaching out as he leapt towards the red wolf. Dallas had done his best to wait for the right moment, and as he tensed to spring he willed himself the strength for this one final assault. As the wolf reached the apex of his jump, the Omega leapt as well. He didn’t intend to meet the assault, and instead, slid under it.

The gray wolf’s jaws brushed his shoulders, but Dallas' jump had been true. His teeth found the throat of the aggressive wolf, and he bit down with sudden crushing force, teeth knitting deeply together as he felt the life-giving blood flood his mouth with each pump of the veteran’s heart.

The crowd had lapsed into silence as Dallas hung on for dear life, the old wolf scrabbling futilely. Dallas was just too small for him to dislodge, and his teeth were dug in too deep for the old wolf to remove. Instead the combatants lay there, until finally the veteran moved no longer. His chest gave a final shudder, and then he lay absolutely still.

Dallas held on longer yet, as if perhaps he’d be tricked into letting go too early. The room around them had gone quiet, and when the small wolf finally managed to work his teeth free of the greasy fur of the battle-scarred opponent, he backed away, his eyes wide. He’d felt the heart stop, heard the stillness of the corpse now. The wolf lay prone before him, twisted in an ugly arch. The corpse’s eyes had rolled back, and it stared at the lids with death-clouded eyes.

The room exploded in cheers and shouts at that moment, though Dallas could only sit down, his body shaking from exhaustion and the horror of what he’d just been forced to do. He could hear the wolves around him howling, and for the first time he could see them all—their true nature. For the wolves on the other side of the bars, there would be nothing more than this. They would be nothing more than this. The ugly truth of the pack was laid before him, bared to all of his senses. The wolves were violence and death, and cared only for creating these two things. Even those in man forms were nothing more than the wild beasts.

Instantly, Dallas retched until there was nothing left, his body shuddering as he vomited bile and blood on to the ground. He wouldn’t be one of these men. He couldn’t be. He stared at the vomit for a long moment, and the wolf in him wanted nothing more than to leave. He moved towards the pile of clothes and began to change. This time it took a little longer as his body tried to not only change but to heal the wounds he’d sustained. He tried his best not to make a sound, but there were a few small whimpers of pain.

Finally, he was a man, sitting in the filth of the arena. He was shaking, cold and feeling as if he might vomit again. He was quick to make sure he didn’t look at the dead wolf, and instead he slid back into his clothes, deliberately taking a few minutes to do so. He had to think, and what he had to say was true—and painful. He stood when it was finally time for him to stand, dressed and mostly whole. His hips and lower back hurt, but the change had mostly healed and salved his wounds.

As the wolves around him began to hush once more, he stared up at the Alpha, trying not to meet Roman’s eyes. He knew he’d find relief and intense need there, and he couldn’t afford the momentary weakness it would bring to the fore. Instead, he stared straight up at the Pack Alpha, waiting patiently for him to speak.

“Very good, well done. You are a wolf after all. Perhaps your escape attempt was a simple misunderstanding, then? Perhaps truly you meant only to frustrate my wolves. You have surely learned your lesson, and you will now be welcomed into the pack as one of our own.”

“No.”

The gasp that echoed across the room seemed to come from every lip in the room, save for the single pair that would never move again. The Pack Alpha stared down at the Omega, frowning. His lips trembled as he voiced his question.

“Why not, young Summers?”

“I don’t want to kill again.”

“You are a wolf. You will kill again here, there, or with any pack you choose to be part of.”

“I want no pack.”

Again the murmur went up, the crowd shocked by his words. Even the Pack Alpha seemed confused, his brows knit together and his shrewd face pinched in suspicion. Whatever he was thinking, Dallas doubted it would be favorable.

“He says he doesn't want the pack,” the Pack Alpha laughed, the crowd joining in.

“Roman said I didn’t have to stay. That I could go to another pack or even be a Lone wolf. Is that true?”

The Pack Alpha seemed hesitant to answer, his fingers worrying his sparse gray facial hair. For a moment, Dallas thought he may just tell his wolves to kill him. Yet no order came.

“You wish to be a wolf alone?”

For the first time Dallas let his eyes meet Roman’s. The pain he saw there was far deeper than he’d believed possible. He quickly looked away, watching Roman’s father with a stern expression on his face. He gave a short simple nod.

“Yes.”

The Pack Alpha eyed his son at his feet and chuckled, shaking his head. He’d known enough men that he knew when he saw lovesickness—the man before him, a king in his own right, sat utterly still. Roman did not so much as breathe a word of protest as the door was opened, and Dallas walked out of the arena, and out of his life.