Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“Ari,” Rafe hisses, trying to get my attention in the sparring circle next to me.

But I can’t take my eyes off of Jackson, who stares at the floor in front of us, rolling his shoulders back.

God why is he even stretching – it’s not like he’s going to have to expend any energy at all to push me

out of this circle – he could probably just growl at me and I’ll run screaming out of it myself –

“Ari!” Rafe hisses, and I snap my attention to him. “You can’t forfeit,” he whispers hastily, searching my

face to ensure I understand. “If you do, you’ll be disqualified. Just try not to fall, all right? Just engage

once, stay on your feet, and let him push you out –”

“Begin!” the Captain shouts at the front of the room.

–

Rafe hesitates, glancing between me and Ben, who steps into the ring, his staff clutched in his hands.

I nod hastily to Rafe, letting him know that I understand.

Then I look at Jackson – or, more correctly, up at Jackson, whose eyes are on me now. God, he just

seems to keep going up, like a mountain – did he get like, taller? Since the last time I saw him?

Did I shrink?

“Come on,” Jackson grumbles, his voice flat as he nods towards the center of the circle, telling me to

get inside. “Let’s get this over with.”

I stare at him, my legs locking in fear – or in something –

–

Because, as much as I need to concentrate on surviving this getting out of this ring as fast as I can – I

just can’t stop wondering…

– on doing what Rafe

says and

…what the hell my grandmother the Goddess was thinking when she picked this guy as my

mate.

My eyes sweep over him again, and while he is obviously an impressive physical specimen, he’s just

so brutal. There’s absolutely nothing about Jackson McClintock that looks capable of being soft, or

kind, or making me laugh. Everything about him looks built for violence and cruelty- there is nothing

there that’s sweet.

When I think about fated mates, I think about mom and dad, or Aunt Cora and Uncle Roger, whose

personalities seem to have been made for each other. Mom’s soft side evens out dad’s harsh edges,

but still deep down, they’re both fierce, dedicated, and loving. They even have the same weird sense of

humor.

This guy? He’s…he’s supposed to match me?

I just stare at him, shaking my head in disbelief when he snaps his eyes up to mine.

“Would you get in here!?” he snarls, the blue of his eyes flashing in demand, his words harsh enough to

make me almost literally jump. My palms are sweaty as I take a single step forward, gripping the staff.

His eyes sweep over me, his lip rising a little in distaste. “Are you even going to raise that?” he asks,

nodding towards my staff. “Or should I just come…push you over?”

And something in the way he says that, the complete derision in his eyes…

Well. It kindles something in me.

My wolf growls in my chest, as pissed as I am. This guy might be twice my size and

undoubtedly going to win the easiest bout of his life, but he doesn’t have to be a jerk about

1. it.

Don’t let him talk to us like that, my wolf snaps. Even if he’s our mate, we’re in charge.

I nudge her sometimes.

away, because while her sentiments are right, she says ridiculous things

“Fine,” I say, raising my chin and tightening my hands on the staff, falling into the stance they just spent

hours teaching us. “Let’s do this.”

“Your funeral,” Jackson murmurs, his words barely audible over the sounds of sticks banging against

each other and bodies hitting mats all over the room. Then he falls into his own stance, and our bout

begins.

Get out fast, I say to myself, remembering Rafe’s words. Don’t let him get me to the mat.

Jackson and I start slowly for a moment, circling each other, looking for openings, but he strikes quick

as a cobra, taking advantage of his larger size and charging for me with a wide swing of his staff.

Panicked, I leap to the side with a little yelp, ducking to avoid the of wood that probably would have

cracked my skull if it had landed.

sweep

Some instinct in me kicks in, either from the quick lesson we just received or my years of casual

sparring with Rafe and Jesse, and I move in closer, knowing that he has $ chance of hurting me if he

can’t use his whole range. Quickly, I use the butt of my staff to jab at the outside of his knee,

connecting solidly.

Jackson gives a little gasp of pain and his leg buckles slightly, but my victory is short–won, because

before I can comprehend what’s happening he gives a bellow, spins his staff in his hands and sweeps it

behind me, hitting me hard behind my knees and taking me down.

The air rushes from my lungs as my back smacks against the mat. As I gasp for air all I can think is shit

– shit Rafe told me not to fall

I roll onto my stomach, hoping that I can get to the edge of the circle, that if I get close Jackson can

push me out and end the bout-

But suddenly he’s on top of me, holding his staff in either hand and looping it over my head so that it

presses against my neck. When he pulls back, I’m lifted onto my knees, my back pressed to his chest,

the staff choking me so that I can’t get any air

–

Something electric passes between us as our bodies touch but I can’t concentrate on that as I gasp,

desperately pressing my hands against the staff, trying to get it away from me, but he’s so much

stronger than I am –

“Yield!” Jackson demands, shouting the word above me. I nod frantically, trying to yield, but he doesn’t

let me go.

“Ari!” I hear someone shout – Rafe but I can’t see.

“Do not interfere!” someone snaps.

–

“I told you,” Jackson continues, lowering his head so that his mouth is close to my ear now, “to yield –”

I drop my shaking hands, trying to do whatever I can to communicate that I’m giving up – that he’s won

–

When suddenly he goes rigid behind me, and then slack, and the staff falls away from my neck.

Immediately, I collapse onto the floor, coughing and gasping for air. My eyes are shut as my face

presses to the mat. I press my palms flat, letting air flood my lungs –

But something grabs my shoulder, spinning me – my back hits the floor hard and terror

runs through me as my eyes fly open to see Jackson crouched above me, his eyes flaring. I gasp as I

realize that he’s losing control – that he’s going to shift into his wolf in moments if he doesn’t contain

himself

Because if he does that, I’m a goner – he’ll shred me to pieces –

“No!” I shout, my hands going up, pressing to his chest, desperate to – I don’t know him off of me? Or

to remind him that he’s a man and that he can’t kill me

–

to get

As soon as my hands touch him a pulse pounds between us in the air, like a shock wave or a…….god,

I don’t know how to describe it. Jackson’s eyes go wide as my mouth falls open, as my hands begin to

heat where they touch him.

Jackson’s eyes fly to his chest and he whips one hand upwards, seizing both of my wrists and yanking

them backwards, pinning them up above my head as he looms over me, snarling, pinning me to the

floor with the weight of his body.

I

gasp in fear, turning my head away and pressing my eyes shut.

“Ari!” I hear Rafe’s shout again, and then the noise of pounding feet.

“What,” Jackson snarls, and I can feel him movinging closer to me, hear him taking a deep sniff of my

scent. “What the f**k are you!?”

I sob a little gasp of fear, shaking my head, having no idea how to answer that or if I’m about to die –

When suddenly…

There’s nothing holding my wrists anymore. And the weight lifts off my body. And then the shadow

retreats, and light presses against my closed eyes.

I stay perfectly still for a moment before I peek through my lashes to see…

Nothing. No gigantic wolf bent on my destruction.

Nothing.

I look around for him, frantic – what is he planning, some kind of second attack!? But he’s not there. I

sit up, confused, looking for him, terrified for what’s coming next…

And suddenly I spy him across the room, stalking towards the door.

My face goes slack because I…I don’t understand it…

“The bout in Circle 2 goes to 120,” a dry voice says next to me, and I spin my head to see a Lieutenant

marking his clipboard before walking away. And suddenly Rafe is kneeling at my side, his hands on my

cheeks, his eyes moving over me frantically.

“Are you all right?” Rafe gasps, his eyes moving over me frantically, looking for wounds and broken

bones. “Did he –”

“How did…” I start, shaking my head to clear it, “how did I win!?”

“Because,” Rafe growls, falling back on his ass and shaking his head at me when he realizes I’m okay.

“You’re still in the ring. He’s not.”

My eyes go wide as I look around me and realize that Rafe’s…Rafe’s right.

I’m still within the circle. And Jackson is…gone.

“Welcome to the top 80% of candidates, Ari,” Rafe says, shaking his head at me, as baffled as I am. “I

don’t know what kind of mystical intervention just happened, but it may have just saved your ass.

I groan and flop back on the mat, wishing to hell I had some idea what on earth is going on.