Free Fragile Reign (Mortal Enchantment Book 2) by Stacey O'Neale

ever challenged him for pack leader. Marcus took off his shirt, throwing it in a nearby corner. The bruises on his upper body had not completely healed. How could he possibly beat his father? Darius doubled him in size and Marcus was injured. I couldn’t let this happen.
    I grabbed his arm, turning him to face me. “This is suicide, bro. You’re not one hundred percent. You can’t win like this.”
    His eyes had changed to red, a sign he had already begun to shift. “You heard my father. We are out of options.” Marcus said, voice almost a growl. “We need the pack to defeat Valac.”
    There had to be another way. Something I could offer instead of this. “I can take him.”
    “No, you can’t. You’re strong, but you’re not one of us.” Marcus squeezed my shoulder. “We need the hounds on our side. My father will never concede.”
    “Marcus—”
    He didn’t respond. Within seconds, he had shape-shifted into hound form. The crowd backed up several feet, making room for their battle. Members of the group laughed as others ripped into Marcus, taunting him. None of them thought he could beat his father. But this fight would not end with a simple beating. Darius would kill his own son to show dominance among his pack.
    The already loud noise amped up even higher as the two hounds circled one another. It was easy to tell them apart. Although they both had slick black hair and menacing exterior, Marcus was considerably smaller than Darius. Each bared their teeth, growling. They appeared to be sizing each other up. Darius lifted a paw as if he were about to pounce. The muscles in Marcus’s back tightened in response. I could have been wrong, but it sounded like Darius was chuckling.
    Anger raged inside me, knowing I was powerless to stop this.
    Even if I attacked Darius, the other hounds would take me out before I could do any real damage. There was nothing I could do but watch. Darius had never been beaten—ever. The odds were definitely in his favor. But maybe Marcus knew something the other opponents didn’t. He had been fighting with his father since childhood. I was hoping Marcus had a plan. The heat coming off of the hounds caused the temperature to soar.
    Sweat trickled down their spines.
    Darius was the first to attack. He leaped, attempting to land on top of Marcus. Their bodies crashed together in mid-air. The ground rumbled. I had to steady myself to keep from falling. Darius swatted the air with his front paws, each time barely missing Marcus. He blocked the assault, preventing any kind of physical damage. Marcus opened his jaws, reaching outward for his father’s neck. Darius blocked him with a blow to the side of his face. The move left a bloody claw-mark on his cheek. Marcus turned his head, wincing in pain. The crowd cheered in response.
    Droplets of smeared blood coated the surface of the fighting area. Snarling, Marcus pounced. The ground roared like an earthquake as they rolled around. Each tried to dominate the other, taking turns on top. It had become a wrestling match. The crowd backed up, giving them more room. Their movements were so fast, it was difficult to make out what was happening. At some point, Marcus tore his teeth into his father’s hind leg. Darius never cried out. Even if he was moments from death, I doubted he ever would. The Gabriel Hounds were trained to tolerate the pain. They never gave up.
    That was why they were incredibly difficult to beat.
    In a surprise move, Darius managed to get him into a head lock. Marcus fought hard as he was pulled onto his back, swatting at him with all four paws. I heard a crunching sound as his father dug his massive jaws into his son’s throat. Blood dripped down the side of his neck while Marcus continued to fight. Terror coursed through me as his movements slowed by the second. A sharp pain rushed into my chest. Marcus wouldn’t want me to interfere. He made that clear, but was I supposed to stand here and watch him die?
    Screw