Nearing the gate, they caught sight of several vehicles parked by the security shack while a large number of shifters stood tall beside them. A normally composed Roscoe was scowling with rage, flexing his fists at his sides.
“Oh good Lord,” she said, snorting at the sheer ridiculousness of the number of wolves he had brought with him. Forty against seven? Yeah, very brave. It was a clear attempt at intimidation but Taryn knew it hadn’t had the desired effect. Why Roscoe had thought that Trey – someone who was practically the personification of intimidation – would be rattled was anyone’s guess.
When Trey came to a halt twelve feet away from the intruders, Ryan came to join the wall that the Phoenix wolves had made. Roscoe’s gaze settled on her and anger flashed across his face, most likely in response to Trey’s marks.
“Never had you down as someone who played games, Taryn. As you can see, game’s over. Get in the SUV while I have a talk with Coleman.”
Taryn almost laughed. “You sound as though you honestly believe I will.”
“Come now and we can avoid all this.”
“I’d rather lie under an elephant suffering from diarrhoea with my mouth open wide.”
“You know what will happen if you persist with this. People are going to get hurt, namely Coleman. Do you really want that on your conscience?”
“Oh no, you don’t get to turn this on me. If anyone gets hurt today it’s because you refuse to let go of something that was never yours to begin with.” She would bet money that if she had been within reach, Roscoe would have slapped her for that.
“Don’t be looking at Taryn, look at me.” Trey’s tone demanded attention. “I’m the one you should be worried about.”
“You must have a death wish, Coleman,” said Roscoe. “It’s the only reason I can think of that would explain why you would kidnap my mate.”
“Kidnap your mate,” repeated Trey with a smile. “I think you’ll find that Taryn’s mine.”
“She wears my mark.”
“Not a mark, a wound – one that I very nicely covered with a mark of my own.”
“She’s mine,” snarled Roscoe.
Growls of disagreement rumbled out of the throats of the seven males around her. Taryn couldn’t help but notice that, by contrast, although Roscoe had a large crew, they didn’t appear to be standing with him. There was no one flanking him or eyeing up the rest of Trey’s pack, picking an opponent they wanted for if it turned into an out-and-out fight. They were simply just…there.
“Here’s how it is, Roscoe. Taryn is my mate, I’ve claimed her, and I will kill anyone who tries to take her from me. If you can accept that, you can live and you can leave here peacefully. If you can’t, well, you must want to die.”
“Then it looks like we battle it out.”
Taryn gaped. “You have got to be kidding me. Why would you bother? You can’t tell me you’re that obsessed with the idea of breaking my spirit until I’m some kind of slave.”
“That’s what he had planned?” Trey’s wolf leapt for control, wanting to gut him.
Roscoe shrugged. “What male wouldn’t want to be able to turn a dominant female like Taryn into a gorgeously submissive slave?”
“Well they would be the sane males,” said Taryn.
“Stand back, baby,” ordered Trey as he removed his t-shirt and then tackled the fly of his jeans. “You heard him. He wants to battle it out.”
She might have tried to calm the atmosphere if she hadn’t known from experience that when two dominant male wolves agreed to battle, it meant the situation was passed help. She had the strange urge to kiss Trey, but knew he didn’t need to look weak right now.
“To the death,” Trey said to Roscoe in a calm but icy tone. “We battle to the death.” Having heard what Roscoe intended for Taryn, Trey’s wolf wasn’t going to be happy until he’d tore out his throat. There was no way Trey would stop him from going feral.
Roscoe, now naked, nodded. “To the death.” Suddenly bones were popping and his body was altering and then, mere seconds later, he was a large sandy snarling wolf.
But Trey was larger, Taryn soon found out as she watched him shift into a seven foot long and approximately thirty-two inch high gorgeous silvery grey wolf. He looked just as intimidating and overawing in wolf form with his powerful build, his heavily muscled neck, and his robust limbs. His hackles were raised, his angry eyes were drilling into Roscoe, his ears were upright, and his lips were curled back, exposing fangs and gums. The growl emitting from him sounded more like a boat motor.
Abruptly the sandy wolf sprang from his crouched position and rushed forward at the grey wolf, coming up short just to snap his teeth together. The grey wolf didn’t move a muscle, just stood looking large and fearsome, making a clear point that he was the more dominant animal in this situation. The sandy wolf reversed slowly only to once again rush forward aggressively and snap at the other.
Apparently the grey wolf had then decided that the other had had his chance to back down and he wasn’t going to stand still any longer. Growling, he began circling the sandy wolf, who then copied the move so that they were circling each other. Maybe because he was stupid or maybe because he was just suicidal, the sandy wolf growled at Taryn. That was when her mate went feral.