A Very Levet Christmas (Guardians of Eternity) by Alexandra Ivy

blame me?”
    Damon snarled beneath his breath. Hell, he wished he did blame the king. His life wouldn’t be ruled by guilt if he could somehow convince himself that his mother’s death had been someone else’s fault.
    “I only want to end this,” he rasped. “One way or another.”
    Salvatore muttered a curse. “There is only one potential end.”
    Despite his inner reluctance to be standing in the frigid snow, waiting to fight the most powerful Were in the world, Damon couldn’t deny a stab of annoyance at the man’s supreme confidence.
    “Then why are you hesitating?” he taunted.
    The dark eyes flashed a dangerous gold in the moonlight as Salvatore’s wolf strained to be released.
    “I don’t want to hurt you.”
    Damon snorted. The king might pretend regret at the thought of hurting a fellow Were, but his wolf was anxious to taste blood.
    “Then give me the throne.”
    “Not a chance in hell.”
    Damon shrugged. “Then we fight.”
    Salvatore spread his arms. “Bring it on.”
    Out of time and options, Damon allowed himself one last thought of his beloved Gia before he cleared his mind and reached toward his wolf.
    This was the moment he’d been training for since his father had banished them from the pack.
    It was his destiny.
    Ignoring icy premonition of doom that trickled down his spine, Damon became lost in the exquisite agony of shifting into his wolf form.
    He tilted back his head, feeling his body fall in on itself, his muscles thickening to rip apart his jeans and T-shirt. At the same time his face began to elongate and stretch as a thick fur rippled over his skin.
    A primitive howl was ripped from his throat as his bones popped and snapped, shifting him from human to animal.
    He had less than a second to savor the glory of his transformation before he heard a warning growl and Salvatore was racing across the clearing, already in his wolf form.
    The king slammed into him with enough force to send him rolling to the side, the crack of his ribs sending a white-hot pain shooting through his side. Still, he was on his feet in a heartbeat, his massive teeth snapping toward Salvatore’s throat.
    The male dodged the strike with a liquid grace that was amazing even for a pure-blood Were. Damn. Damon scrambled to regain his balance, feeling Salvatore’s teeth take a chunk out of his ear.
    Damon snarled, his claws digging into the snow as he feinted to one side before launching to sink his teeth into Salvatore’s hindquarter. He had the satisfaction of tasting blood before Salvatore gave a savage kick to dislodge him.
    Once again he tumbled across the snow, but before he could regain his feet, there was the sensation of tearing flesh as Salvatore managed to slice his claws along Damon’s spine. Warm blood flowed down Damon’s fur. It wasn’t a killing blow, but it was deep enough to weaken him.
    Alarm sounded in Damon’s brain. Even as a wolf he understood that if he didn’t end this quickly, he would be dead.
    A fine plan until he whirled around to meet the king’s glowing, golden gaze. Suddenly he realized that Salvatore hadn’t yet unleashed his full powers. Damon didn’t think the bastard was toying with him. But . . . he hadn’t truly tried to kill him.
    Damon’s heart clenched with regret.
    His conscience wouldn’t allow him to concede defeat. Not when he was weirdly convinced his mother’s ghost was watching him with disappointment.
    As the king had said . . . there was only one conclusion.
    Feeling almost compelled by a force greater than himself, Damon bunched his muscles, then with one mighty surge, he was flying forward.
    Salvatore was prepared. Rising onto his back legs, he met Damon’s charge with a flurry of teeth and claws. Snarls filled the clearing as the two predators battled, the air scented with the tang of blood. Distantly Damon was aware of the shouts from the onlookers, and even the chilled power of the vampires, but the focus of his attention remained locked on the