Sword of Inquest (La Patron's Sword Book 1) by Sydney Addae

created the serum. The remaining wolf snarled and snapped but kept its distance. He suspected they were setting him up for Greggor.
    Instead of co-operating, Hawke leapt forward, the wolf followed, and they clashed in the air. Hawke swiped the wolf across the neck with his claws and hearing a click dropped to the ground and rolled into the tree line. The ping of the dart hitting the ground inches from his chest pissed him off.
    Enraged, he would kill Greggor first chance he got. The hybrid he’d backhanded jumped on him, pinning him down to the ground. Hawke looked into the vacant eyes of his opponent and then glanced at the metal around his neck. With little effort he moved his arm up and grabbed the necklace. Lord Boris said these were impossible to remove, but since the man was a liar and a cheat Hawke decided to test that theory. Although the hybrid’s muscle’s strained to hold Hawke in place and sweat poured down its forehead the eyes never changed.
    Hawke waited to see if Greggor would move closer now that he was down to one hybrid for protection. He heard nothing and sensed no movement. The hybrid leaned to the side and punched him in the face. He rolled them over, grabbed the necklace and lifted the hybrid in the air. This time he slammed the hybrid against the tree so hard his skull split. Hawke knew that wasn’t enough and broke his neck as well.
    Breathing hard he stepped back, spun around as the dart landed in his shoulder the medicine entered his bloodstream immediately. In moments he’d be out. He took one step, then another like a Saturday night drunk. Fire shot through his veins freezing him mid-step. Damn, that extra ingredient he’d added to the formula worked too well. A tingling numbness, spread through him. Hawke fell to his knees. Footsteps drew closer and through the dimness of his vision he saw Greggor leer.
    “Hello Hawke.”
    Too sluggish to respond he cursed the jackass in his mind and wished him a thousand deaths. In the corner of his mind, he thought there was a sound, a cry, a scream of anguish. He fell forward into the dark abyss.
    A sense of unease rolled through Asia waking her. She listened to the forest while shaking off the dregs of her sleep. Deep-resting was critical after expending the amount of adrenaline and energy she had at the castle. But something woke her. She glanced at Hawke intent on asking if anything happened and found his tree empty. Alert, she scanned the area. In the distance Hawke had company.
    Damn, he should have woken her instead of handling this on his own. She remembered his pitiful fighting skills with the test wolves and wondered if he were still alive. The scent of hybrids and full-bloods fueled her anger. She morphed into her hybrid, masked her scent and hopped from tree to tree. It took longer to reach the area than she would have liked. When she could get a good view, she paused.
    Stunned, she watched Hawke destroy his opponents with ease. Unable to move, she kept her distance in the tree and watched. Why had she thought him inept? It became clear he didn’t need her help.
    A glint in the trees caught her attention. Tranquilizer gun . Her heart raced at the gun pointed at Hawke’s back as he snapped the neck of the hybrid.
    “Hawke, watch out,” she called but was too far for him to hear. She searched her mind for their link but it was too late, he crumpled to the ground in the midst of slain bodies.
    Pain, sharp and piercing lanced her chest. Her wolf took over, shifting mid leap running through the forest at blinding speed, leaping over roots, and ducking branches. Once in the clearing she hit Greggor in the chest, the weapon flew out of his hand and slid into a tree. The man lay on the ground, his face bleeding from a scrape of her claw.
    “What the fuck are you doing standing there?” he screeched. “Get this bitch off me.”
    Asia’s wolf bit down on his arm until it hit bone. He screamed and tried to push her off which sliced his arm more.