The Reluctant Wolf: A Paranormal Romance (Werewolves and Shifters) by Susan G. Charles Read Free Book Online Page B

like to go at it again?” Damon questioned.
    “It seems to me that you’re more talk than action.” Morgan responded. “When was the last time you actually beat me in anything?”
    Damon walked toward Morgan, his chest rising and sinking, growing and dropping.
Morgan did not budge, he stood his ground. He was yet to break a sweat; while on the other hand, Damon had started to glimmer in perspiration. Was he worried? There was only one way to find out.
    This time Morgan was the first to strike. He charged Damon head on, like a battering ram. Damon waited.
    As Morgan took to the air, his sibling anticipated his arrival. As he descended toward Damon, Damon lunged forward, caught him on his descent and tossed him to where Jasmine once lay, into the aluminum trash can knocking it over. The junk in it scattered across the grounds.
    Damon roared in victory. His voice echoed throughout night. Seeming Morgan was down and a bit fatigued from the toss, he approached him with confidence. He was sure he had his brother beat.
    But Morgan wasn’t done yet.
    He sluggishly searched for anything he could use to his advantage. From out of the trash, scattered around him was garbage. Food, cereal boxes, old gym shoes and school books. Uh oh, he saw something else. It did not come from the trash, but off the wall. Maybe it was knocked loose when one of the girls rushed across it. It was in arms reach, almost invisible from his antagonist’s angle underneath a box of Lucky Charms.
    It was a brick.
    Damon stood over his downed brother and said, “This is how your world will end. My face will be the last one you see.” He slurped once again. “After me there will be no other, and once your head is taken to our father I will be his only successor.”
    Morgan said, “You’ll never be his successor,” grabbed the brick and bashed it upside his brother’s head with lightning speed and a thundering force.
    Damon, blinded by his own blood, lashed out at Morgan, caught him off guard and left four claw streaks across his chest. Morgan screamed in pain. Then Morgan caught Damon off guard. He wrapped an arm around his neck and squeezed. He squeezed and squeezed until Damon fell limp in his grasp.

Chapter 13
    Back at home, finally, Morgan surveyed the damage. Needless to say the suit was in rags. So much for that $1500 investment, he thought to himself. The shoes were ruined too – covered in blood, mud… and who knows what that was? And as for the flowers, well, they were laying on the sidewalk back at the fight scene. Not a good way to end the day. But it could have been worse… at least Bailey wasn’t there when it happened.
    He ripped off what remained of his dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. Pants, socks and shoes followed. He was standing in his underwear now looking at himself in the big bathroom mirror. was covered in scratches – bloody claw marks of different sizes covered his body. But a few were already healing – so that was good – he just needed time for the others to heal as well. He grabbed a wash cloth, wet it and dabbed at the worst wounds that covered his chest.
    Wincing as he bent over, he found the alcohol and peroxide in the bottom bathroom cabinet, stood back up, opened them both and poured a bit of each onto the washcloth – then he began wiping at the largest rips on his chest. He wished they had some whiskey in the house but knew there was none so he made the best use of what there was available. Whiskey was the best for post battle first aid – for cleaning out the wounds and for drinking to forget them too.
    After he had cleaned them all reasonably well, he walked to the kitchen and got a cold beer from the fridge – not whiskey, but he’d make do. His smaller wounds were almost all healed, but he was stiff and sore all over from the fight. It had been quite a while since he had last fought like that – and his body was letting him know it right now. But he knew he needed to hide the clothes, or the