Escaping Death

Hunter

This must be part of my punishment, why else would the woman I was going to marry ignore me and take up with my friends — my brothers. I daren’t go for a run, Goddess only knows what moves my pack mates would make on her while I’m gone. They’ve always been playfully competitive with one another but it’s decidedly not as entertaining to watch them when their conquest is my would-be-bride.

She spent half a day with Tate in a glorified computer lab, so I’m beyond fumes right now that she was straddling his lap and that the scent of her arousal was blooming around her.

No matter how hard I drive my ax into these uncut logs it doesn’t clear away the thoughts of how many suitors she must have had in the last four years. What embers could she possibly still carry that burn for me? Is it really possible that the last four years could douse the flame we kindled for almost a century?

I wasn’t born with fire — I can’t create it, control it, or withstand it — but Gods does it feel like it lives within me right now, fueled by my abundant fury and pain. Just as the heat becomes so great that I’m sure my body will have no choice but to combust, the sharp edges of my rage dull and the heat rash on my heart cools.

Fucking Dean.

“You’re supposed to chop the wood, not burn it,” Dean chides playfully.

“I’m fine Dean, you can stop with the empath shit.” I summon him an ax and toss it to him to join me in my task.

“I could feel you from the house, I was worried the whole yard would go up in flames.” He grunts through his first drive of the ax. “What happened? Did Sol punch you again or something?”

In a manner of speaking, yes. “Or something.”

When I catch her scent this time it soothes my rage far better than Dean’s gift ever could. Four years wasn’t enough for my body to forget hers…I doubt even a lifetime would be sufficient. When we were together it was like holding the sun in the palm of my hand. All that heat and all that power should have incinerated me, but she gave me the ability to master it — to master her.

After feeling a warmth like that, being cast to the shadows is enough to flash freeze you.

It’s not just her I can sense, though. There’s a sound that starts faintly and it grows louder and more urgent every millisecond. This sound typically precedes the squelching of metal through meat and the grunt of air that is forced out when her target hits the ground dead.

Her blade.

Her blade is currently spiraling through the air across the lawn aimed directly at the back of my head. If it were any other blade I might not have known I was its target. I exchange my ax for a wooden bat then lift it behind my head so her blade embeds into the wood and not my skull.

I catch Dean standing there with his mouth agape in shock. Whether it’s shock that she used me for target practice or that I was able to block her throw remains to be seen. For the first time in days I smile. Whether she’s attacking me or talking to me…her attention is still on me.

With a wink and a grin at Dean I rip the blade from the bat and whip the dagger right back at her. I overshoot the mark, missing her laterally by two inches. I made this blade for her, it’s practically an extension of her own arm, so I’m not disappointed that my aim is so off. I don’t command it like she does.

She catches the damn thing in mid air as it’s passing her ear. She grabs it by the handle and lowers it to her side.

Come on, Sol.

Light dances to life in her eyes and I know it’s game on. I volley dagger after dagger at her, aiming high, low, left and right. Like a cartoon thief bending in impossible ways through a room of lasers, Solana dodges each and every blade as she prowls acrobatically towards me.

By the time she reaches me, the deck and back of the house are decorated in the knives I rained upon her.

Solana comes at me swinging and, whether she likes it or not, I let every single one of her hits land. She punches my face, kicks me in the ribs, knees me in the gut, and uppercuts my jaw hard enough to crack the bones. I start blocking her attacks but I’m finding that she’s gotten faster and stronger since we last trained together. Her hits are confident and sure, powerful and precise. Lethal.

Dean reaches his breaking point, he can only ever watch for so long before needing to give in. His attempts to pull her off of me only serve to make him another of Solana’s targets. She throws her head back against his, breaking his nose and causing him to drop her only for her to sweep his legs out from under him.

Dean springs right back up and the two of us attempt to land a hit on her while also trying to walk away without any more broken bones. This turns out to be easier said than done. Solana easily dodges our punches and weapons whilst simultaneously breaking more and more bones on each of our bodies.

My shirt is blood soaked in a dozen areas and starting to stick to me uncomfortably so I decide to divest myself of it and carry on sparring with her without it. I grin with cocky satisfaction when the act of taking off my shirt catches her attention long enough for Dean to tackle her to the ground. She rolls away from him just before his blade comes down on her, embedding instead in the grass. She jumps to her feet and stands there for several contemplative moments before she strips off her shirt so she’s in her bra and leggings.

Goddess she’s gorgeous. Even sweat soaked and covered in dirt and blood it’s always been her radiance that I’ve been attracted to. On her way over towards me she picks up her knife and tucks it back into the waistband of her leggings. She’s only an arms length away from me now, I could so easily reach out to her and embrace her, putting an end to this anger and pain we’ve both been suffering.

I take a moment to inventory Solana’s new ink. She has many new pieces since I last saw her, one of which is over her heart. Just as I have her name tattooed over my heart, she has mine tattooed over hers. Now, though, she’s added claw marks that look like they’re ripping through her skin and ripping through my name. My name is still clearly visible, but what’s also clearly visible is how much pain she’s been in these last four years.

Solana lifts a tentative hand up to my chest, placing her palm over her name on my heart. Warmth bubbles up and out from where she touches me, the feeling is almost enough to bring me to my knees. Rather than allow the tears that have welled in her eyes to fall, Solana’s face hardens with rage and she drags her claws across my pec tearing through skin and muscle and marring the tattoo of her name. Now ours are the same, only hers is ink and mine is injury.

It’ll heal. I’m not worried about that. But the symbolism of the act is not lost on me.

— — —

Ace

Tate and I are going over the last few upcoming jobs we have, finalizing plans and logistics, but between Sol’s scent clinging to him and Hunter’s chaotic emotions bleeding through our bond I can hardly concentrate on anything else. I’m also starting to be able to sense Solana more and more, which both pleases and pains me. My wolf loves our growing connection, the stronger the better in his opinion, but the stronger our bond becomes the harder it’s going to be to let go of her.

Suddenly, there’s a hailstorm of noise against the back of the house like someone is raining arrows or axes at us. Tate jumps swiftly over the back of the armchair and follows me carefully towards the back door. Eli is taking cover behind the door as axes and daggers come flying in through the broken windows.

“What the fuck is going on?” I yell over the clashing of metal and glass.

“Sol threw a dagger at Hunter and he’s returning the favor.”

For the love of the Gods…

I risk taking a glance and see that Hunter is the one throwing all these weapons and his target isn’t the house – it’s Solana.

Once the onslaught of flying weapons ends the three of us walk out onto what’s left of the back porch. Solana is unscathed, not a single mark on her, and when she gets close enough to Hunter she begins beating the shit out of him. Curiously, Hunter just stands there and allows her to use him as her own personal training dummy.

“You want me to stop her?” Tate asks but I know he really wants to watch her kick Hunter’s ass.

“Fuck that, I want to watch.” Eli complains.

“No,” I reply to Tate’s question, “let them be. This is long overdue.”

Tate perches himself on the deck railing and Eli leans against the railing next to him watching them go at it. “Goddess she’s incredible,” Eli whispers to himself. Both of them growl when Dean attempts to break the fight up only to get dragged into it himself.

“Oh come on, it’s two against one! I’m going over there.” Eli tries to hop the railing but Tate pulls him back.

“I thought you didn’t mind doubling up,” Tate quips.

“Both of you shut up,” I command.

My girl doesn’t need Eli’s help, she is doing a rather impressive job holding her own. Hunter has changed tactics and is now on the defensive attempting to block her attacks. Solana is unphased, she manages to get in hit after hit on both Hunter and Dean. She’s enjoying this, I can feel how much she’s enjoying this. I think Hunter is just glad she’s no longer ignoring him, he’d rather be used for target practice than ignored by her.

Despite their rapid healing, both Dean and Hunter are sporting dozens of bruises and cuts. Hunter’s previously white shirt is now saturated in blood. Dean takes a cheap shot at Solana by tackling her to the ground when she pauses to watch Hunter divest himself of his shirt.

Dean’s dagger comes dangerously close to impaling her but Solana rolls away before he can touch her. She’s already on her feet before Dean realizes he’s impaled the grass rather than flesh.

Solana stands motionless for several breaths before slipping off her shirt, snatching her dagger from the ground, and prowling towards Hunter.

“You’re all welcome, by the way.” Tate says as I struggle to keep my wolf at bay.

“For what?” Eli asks so I don’t have to.

“Who do you think bought her that beautiful piece of clothing?” Tate’s so fucking proud of himself.

What kills me is I almost do want to thank him. Even though I can only see her back I find her incredibly beautiful. She has two gorgeous wings tattooed on her back and shoulder blades, and a few pieces on her arms. The lace of her bra compliments her ink and her skin tone, I’m practically salivating at the thought of seeing her turn around.

But even that thought evaporates into smoke when I come back to the reality that she deliberately took off her shirt to bare herself to Hunter, the same guy she’s been actively avoiding for days.

Hunter’s eyes rake over her body, appreciating what’s mine. He had his chance with her. He may not have known it but he gave her up the minute he joined us.

Fresh blood perfumes the air, snapping me out of my thoughts. Solana storms back towards us and slips easily past Tate and Eli whose jaws I’ll have to crane off the floor, but she stops next to me before going inside.

Her eyes are glassy and bloodshot. She’s starting to drain the emotional wounds Hunter’s departure inflicted upon her but she’s too proud to show it openly.

“Hunter,” I call out across the yard, “you and Dean get this shit cleaned up. Eli you’re on damage control. T, —“

“Already on it, boss.” Tate is typing away on his phone, scrolling through materials at our local home improvement store.

With everyone occupied, I turn on my heels and head back inside trailing after Solana. I need to throw her in the shower to wash their scents off of her before I lose control and mark her with my own.