“I’ll manage.”
Bel hadn’t picked a lock in nearly a century. Had they changed? It was something Rafe had learned because the man was born to be an utter miscreant. Bel had learned it simply out of curiosity and to keep up with his twin. He’d never imagined it would actually come in handy.
Shifting the metal piece in his hand, he started to work it around in the lock while everyone’s attention was on the fight as it continued to progress. Bel looked up at the field and wished he hadn’t. Albert had Wyatt on his back, teeth digging into his flank.
“Winter,” Bel whispered.
“What?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his brother to grab River and drag him to where the rest of the Variks waited. But he couldn’t; it wasn’t right. They were a family, and they stood together. They had faith in each other’s abilities. Bel believed that River could defend himself and help Wyatt if necessary. He also believed in Wyatt’s plan.
“Get to our brothers. Give them an update,” Bel finally said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, vampires can’t be more involved in this than we already are. Get out of here.”
There was a long silence. Bel wasn’t entirely sure if his brother had left or if he had simply decided to ignore Bel.
“I don’t like it,” Winter muttered. “But I’ll go along with it. Be careful.”
“You too.”
With at least his youngest brother safely away from the danger, Bel turned his attention to the damn locks on the manacles. He was rustier than he cared to admit. Closing his eyes, he blocked out all the sounds around him and tamped down the emotions trying to crush him from both of his wolves and his twin. There were only the inner mechanics of the lock.
He didn’t know how much time passed. Seconds probably, but he managed to finally get the first manacle off and hurried with the second.
Pain rushed through his shoulders and his arms followed by sharp pins and needles. He lowered his arms and shook them out, turning his attention to the field of battle. No one was paying any attention to him. All eyes were locked on the two wolves in the center of the clearing.
Wyatt was hurt and bleeding heavily, but so was Albert. The older wolf had a more pronounced limp, while Wyatt seemed to be breathing heavier. From where Bel stood at the back of the crowd, he couldn’t tell if River was still healing from the stab wound or if they’d inflicted more injuries on him.
Something else suddenly twitched across his brain. Bel turned away from the field of battle, looking toward the woods where they’d first entered the town. Sinking inside of himself, he reached for his power and set it fully free, allowing him to read all the animals close by.
The two wolves fighting in the center of the field were easy to pick out. Ozzie was sitting overhead in a tree, full of worry and irritation. There were a couple of owls and a hawk nearby as well. River sharpened in his mind. The wound in his stomach had mostly healed and the pain he felt now was fear for Wyatt.
Power trickled out of the town, crawling toward the woods until it finally pinged on six wolves racing toward the town. The same six they’d encountered as guards and knocked out with his tranquilizer.
Dammit!
Apparently, the wolves had a much faster metabolism than he’d estimated. They couldn’t have been unconscious for more than thirty minutes. His brothers would never have seen them rise because they were to retreat to Bel’s property as soon as the guards were subdued.
Striding away from the whipping post and the clearing, Bel walked along the middle of the main street. He unbuttoned his cuffs and carefully rolled up each sleeve past his elbows. The intent of the wolves was clear in their minds. They planned to tear Wyatt, River, and Bel apart. They didn’t care about the rules of a challenge. Didn’t care about fairness. They had to protect Albert and the comfortable way of life he promised them.
Bel was not going to allow them to interfere. He couldn’t protect Wyatt from Albert, but he could do everything within his power to support Wyatt.
With feet braced, Bel waited until the first of the wolves appeared on the street, running at full speed, teeth bared in nearly a snarl. Bel threw out one hand, immediately latching on to the wolf’s mind. He clamped down hard, ordering it to stop.
A high-pitched whine erupted up the wolf’s throat, but its paws dug in as they forced his powerful body to stop.
The other wolves quickly caught up with the first and Bel repeated the command, spreading his power across them all.
Wyatt had always described the touch of his power as gentle and nuanced, but then that was how Bel had always reached out to him. He’d never tried to force his will onto River or Wyatt.
With these wolves, Bel was willing to fucking break their minds.
A lone howl rose from a throat that was part human and part wolf. One wolf took a step forward. Its entire body shook as if in pain, fighting Bel’s control. The vampire dug deeper, forcing more energy and power behind the command. The other wolves were also fighting. A couple more took slow steps, creeping across town in jerky motions.
Pain exploded across Bel’s brain and his hands trembled in front of him. He tried reaching for more power, but there was nothing left within him. The wolves had stopped moving, but they still mentally fought for their freedom. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t let them move. If they escaped, Wyatt and River were dead.
Something wet trickled from his nose. Blood. He was bleeding. He was frying his brain enough to burst blood vessels.
A hysterical laugh got caught in his throat. All those years studying and working so damn hard to find a cure, he’d been sure that science would save him and the people he cared about. He should have spent more time studying his magic.
A brutal snarl was followed by a pained yelp. Bel’s eyes snapped back to the field to find Wyatt pinning Albert to the ground, his throat held in Wyatt’s powerful jaws. Bel wanted to shout with laughter. Had the howls from Albert’s wolves distracted the pack leader? It would be great if he’d succumb to his own dirty trick.
Bel’s body shook with the strain of using his gift against the wolves. The rest of the pack seemed to hold its breath. They waited for Wyatt to make his final judgment. He knew his lover wasn’t naturally a killer, but he was a protector. If left alive, Albert would find a way to strike again. He may never regain a foothold in the pack, but he would find a way to hurt Wyatt, even if it was only through the death of River or Bel.
With his eyes closed, he used what little reserves he had left to follow along the path Wyatt and River had carved through his brain. He sent him feelings of love and acceptance. He loved Wyatt regardless of whatever choice he made.
With a low growl, Wyatt clamped down and tore Albert’s throat out. Blood poured from the open wound, soaking the ground, while choked gasps rattled from Albert. No one moved. No one said a word as they watched Albert die.
It was over.
Wyatt had won. They were safe.
Bel’s attention snapped to the wolves. They had stopped fighting Bel’s powers and stood frozen in fear and horror. The vampire managed a pained smile as he stared at them.
“Run,” he whispered just before releasing them.
It was the only chance they were going to get.
The six wolves hesitated for only a couple of seconds, and then they turned around and ran out of the town.