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Chapter 5

  • DAMIEN
  • Crack! I drop low, using the strength in my back leg to drive my punch harder into my brother Rylan Rock’s ribs. “You don’t own the west side. I do!” I shout, my voice rough with anger. There’s no backing down now—not with him. If I let up for even a second, he’ll hit me from behind. That’s what Rylan does. He’s sneaky like that.
  • I push my hair out of my face, squinting through the parking lot lights as I size him up. He’s furious, too mad to fight smart. I move lightly on my feet, staying in my stance, spitting out the blood that’s collecting in my mouth. My crew stands close by, watching, waiting.
  • “Damien, don’t hold back!” Kellan calls out, his teeth flashing in a wild grin. “You know his weak side. Light him up!” Kellan’s part of the rebellion, the small group I’ve been leading. It’s a rough crew, but they’ve got my back.
  • “Shut up, Kellan,” Rylan snaps, blood dripping from his mouth. He looks so much like me—same sharp jaw, same dark eyes, but taller by an inch. He’s built like a tank at six-three, all muscle and rage. I’m six-two, not far off, but I’ve got speed. He’s all strength, I’m all fire.
  • I swing again, catching him across the face. The crack of bone echoes through the lot, drawing gasps from the small crowd gathering around. This is nothing new. Everyone knows Rylan and I fight every week, it’s practically a show for the pack.
  • “Stay down,” I warn, but he grins, wiping the blood off his chin. Then, in a split second, he dips low, scoops up a handful of gravel, and flings it in my face.
  • “Ah, hell!” I curse, spitting out the gritty pebbles that sting my mouth and eyes. The bastard got me good. My knee buckles as he kicks me hard, and I drop for a second, one hand hitting the ground to keep my balance. The pain burns through me, but I don’t let it hold me.
  • “Get up, Damien! He’s coming for you!” Nova shouts. She’s the only girl in my crew, a tomboy wolf with a sharp tongue and a mean right hook. Her voice cuts through the chaos like a spark.
  • I grin through the blood. “You’re not the only one with tricks, brother.” I grab Rylan’s legs and yank, pulling him to the ground. The thud of his body hitting the gravel is loud, satisfying. I hope I cracked a rib or two. He groans, and I give him a solid kick in the side to make sure he stays down.
  • That’s when I feel it, the heavy presence that freezes the air. My father.
  • Gareth Rock.
  • The crowd that had gathered around us shifts uneasily. Some step back. My father’s presence has that effect on everyone. He’s ruthless, cold, and stronger than anyone in this damn pack.
  • “Break this up!” Gareth’s voice booms, low and dangerous. “Damien, get off your brother.”
  • Of course, it’s me he blames. It’s always me. Never Rylan. I stand slowly, brushing the dust from my jeans, my chest heaving.
  • “He started it—”
  • “Shut it, Damien.” His tone slices through the air. “You’re supposed to be the heir to the throne, not a street brawler. I need you down in Upper Manhattan for the collection run. Wheelie Pop owes us, and I want that money today. Get it however you need to. Save your fists for that.”
  • I clench my jaw, swallowing the bitter taste of gravel and blood. My father’s eyes are cold, the color of storm clouds, his face marked with scars from battles I’ve only heard whispers about. There’s one deep line under his left eye, a scar that cuts across his cheek like a warning. He’s covered in tattoos, each one rumored to represent a kill. I’ve never asked. I don’t want to know.
  • Rylan stands behind him, smirking, rubbing his jaw. I want to hit him again, but I don’t. Not with Gareth watching.
  • “Yes, sir,” I mutter, though my voice shakes with frustration.
  • My father’s lips curl into a small, cruel smile before he turns and walks away, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. The crowd starts to disperse, and I can feel my crew’s eyes on me. Kellan gives me a nod, Nova shakes her head, and I just stand there, fists tight, heart pounding.
  • That’s the thing about being a Rock—violence isn’t just in the blood. It’s the only language we’ve ever learned.