Knotting His Rejected Breeder

Dane spread his left hand wide, sweeping his whole arm across the span of the open courtyard.

"Am I missing something, King Vance?" Dane’s voice cracked with a hint of bruised ego. "I thought you brought nineteen packs here to watch a slaughter. I thought the plan was to break my knees, strip my bloodline, and make me pay for taking your daughter’s crown off her head. There is nothing glorious about one-on-one combat—least of all with a boy who hasn’t even grown his winter coat."

That earned a few rancorous laughter.

"Hey, bastard!" the kid spat. "Who are you calling a boy?"

Dane didn’t even turn his head. He kept his eyes locked on Vance. "A king does not dole out mercy in installments to make himself look noble. So send them all in, Vance. Send all twenty, and let’s be done with this vanity."

A collective, horrified gasp rippled through the Bloodmoon spectators.

"Is he mad?" Sonia choked out, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wild with panic as she clutched Ramon’s forearm. "Ramon, stop him!"

Henrik slammed his palm flat against his own face, dragging it down with a ragged, furious groan. "What in the absolute fuck is he doing?"

High on the wooden dais, King Vance’s eyes narrowed into dark, murderous slits. He stared down at Dane for three agonized seconds before giving a single, rigid nod to the head marshal.

The remaining fighters stepped into the clearing, fanning into a predatory semicircle around the lone Bloodmoon heir.

Aurora shifted uncomfortably in her carved seat, her knuckles digging into the armrest. "He just spat on my plea," she muttered under her breath, a faint, angry flush rising on her throat. "Arrogant idiot. Does he have any idea how hard it was convincing you to let him take them one by one?"

In the chaos of the shifting guards, Destiny didn’t hesitate.

Before Henrik could grab her shoulder, before any of the guards could react, she lunged past the ash staves and sprinted straight out into the middle of the dirt ring.

A collective wave of disbelief tore through the surrounding stands.

"Her again?" someone roared from pack benches. "The farm bitch?"

Two heavily armored guards lunged forward, catching Destiny by her upper arms, dragging her back as her boots kicked up clods of dirt.

"Let me go!" Destiny snarled, thrashing violently against their tight grip, her teeth bare, a low, animalistic hiss scraping out of her throat. "I have every right to stand and fight! You said he would be defending me!"

Dane turned his head, his dark eyes wide with sudden, breathless shock. "Destiny, no—get back to the wall!"

"Silence!" Vance’s voice cut through the clamor.

To everyone’s surprise, the King stood up and slow-clapped. A cold, cruel smile touched his lips.

"Impressive," Vance said, his eyes scanning Destiny. "Let her go. If a farm girl wishes to bleed for Bloodmoon, who am I to deny the theater? But know this, girl—when they cut your throat, your parents will be executed to join you in the afterlife."

Destiny yanked her arms free from the guards, tore her chin up, and took three sharp, arrogant steps forward, glaring directly into the King’s face.

"And if we survive?" she rasped, her raw voice piercing the morning chill. "You set my parents free. You clear Blood Moon pack of these atrocities. Give me your word as King."

From behind Vance’s bench, his younger brother, Lord Kaelen, a bitter mirror image of the King with colder eyes, burst into a sharp, condescending laugh. "A peasant demanding an oath from Silvercrest! Look at it bark!"

The pack members bellowed with ugly, mocking laughter. And some of them scoffed with open disdain.

"Oh, she irritates me," Aurora whispered through gritted teeth, her fingers twitching at her side. "Maybe they both deserve to die in the dirt."

Destiny didn’t flinch. She kept her red-rimmed eyes locked on the King. "Lord King Vance. Do you give your word?"

Vance’s laughter faded. He let out a long, fogged sigh, stepping to the edge of the stone platform. "Fine. If you survive twenty wolves of Silvercrest, you all walk free. It matters little. This will be over before the sun moves an inch. Begin."

The circle collapsed instantly.

Twenty men surged forward at once, a tidal wave of flashing claws, barred teeth and roaring.

"Dane!" Destiny gasped, dropping into a low, predatory stance just as the vanguard hit them.

Dane didn’t back up. He stepped right into the mouth of the surge.

The young boy was the first to reach him, swinging his claw hand at Dane. Dane ducked under the claw, caught the boy’s wrist with a sickening crack, and hauled him forward into the path of a broadsword meant for his own spine. Before the sword pulled back, Dane rammed his shoulder into the second attacker’s ribs, drove his bare hand under the man’s leather collar, and threw him sideways into two more incoming wolves.

He didn’t sweat.

To his right, the first enforcer lunged for Destiny, reaching for her neck. Destiny didn’t try to block. She leaped straight up, wrapping her legs around his throat, her nails extending into sharp, bone-deep claws as she dragged him down into the dirt and raked them across his eyes. The man screamed, flailing blindly, but Destiny was already rolling off his chest, springing to her feet as a second attacker swung a heavy clawed hand at her face.

She ducked inside his reach, grabbed his wrist, and drove her clawed fingers straight up into the soft flesh under his ribcage. He wheezed, dropping the blade, and she kicked him back into the advancing mob.

Within two minutes, five men lay writhing and bleeding in the muddy ring.

The remaining fifteen fighters hesitated.

"Fight, you cowards!" a pack Alpha roared down from where he sat. "Move in! It’s two against fifteen!"

"It should’ve been me down there!" another shouted.

By the stone wall, Ramon and Sonia held each other’s hands tightly.

"Good," Ramon gritted out through his teeth. "Good. Stand firm, son."

"Look at her," Hannah whispered to Henrik, her jaw dropped in shock as she watched Destiny wipe a streak of wolf blood from her chin. "Who knew a bloody farm Omega could fight like a rogue demon?"

In the center of the ring, surrounded by fifteen hesitating warriors, Dane didn’t drop his hands. He maintained his fighting stance.

"Gentlemen," Dane said softly, his voice echoing in the dead quiet of the yard. "It is not too late to yield."

Destiny stepped up to his left shoulder, back-to-back with him, her chest heaving, her eyes wild and blazing. "You should listen to him."

A roar of furious embarrassment went up from the fifteen fighters. Shamed by an Omega and an alpha whose position was questionable, they descended upon them all at once in a suffocating wall of violence.

For a terrifying second, the sheer logic of numbers took over.

Dane was buried beneath four heavy bodies, his elbows swinging, the sound of breaking bones filling the air. But he refused to be subdued, tearing out their hearts and throats but sustaining bites and claws marks in the process.

Destiny took down another man, driving him to the stones, but a massive wolf caught her from behind, pinning her arms in an arm lock. Another enforcer stepped up in front of her, his clawed fingers driving straight to tear her heart out.

"Dane!" Destiny screamed.

Before the fingers could pull out the heart, Dane caught the attacker by the back of his neck, dragged him away from Destiny and twisted his head with a sharp, brutal snap.

Dane tossed the limp body aside, caught the man holding Destiny by his collar, and slammed him face-first into the freezing mud.

Dane stood tall over her, covered in sweat and blood.

"Is this all Silvercrest has?" Dane roared, his voice shaking the frost from the timber eaves. "Or are you coming down here yourself?"

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