The Gift of My Mate (Siberian Volkov Pack Romance Book 9) by Caryn Moya Block

the black eye and bruises on the woman’s cheek. The woman looked to be younger than her. Itigaituk glared first at Margot, then at Mathis.
    The elders and village members gathered around. Margot squeezed Mathis’s hand, needing to reassure him, or maybe herself. He turned to her and swept her close, kissing her in front of the assembly. “You must wait with my mother,” he said, cupping her chin. “Everything will be all right.” Margot nodded, biting her lip. Mathis ran his thumb over the offended flesh, his gaze tender. He released her when his father and mother stepped forward.
    Nicole took her arm and led her to one side. Margot grabbed hold of her hand. Inside she was terrified. It took every ounce of control to stop from shuddering. Mathis needed her to be strong, to believe in him. She did, she could do this.
    Ujarak and Kumaglak appeared and made their way through the crowd to their father and Mathis. Margot wondered where they went when they disappeared last night. They whispered a few words and then came to stand next to Nicole.
    Ujarak winked at her. “Hey, you okay? You look kind of like you did in the cabin before you freaked out. Now wouldn’t be a good time to lose it.”
    “Shut up, Ujarak. I’m not going to lose it.” Margot knew he was partially kidding. She could barely keep it together and his teasing wasn’t helping.
    “Ujarak, leave her alone,” Nicole chastised him.
    “Yes, Mom,” he drawled.
    Margot felt her lips twitch. If she could relax one bone in her body, she might be able to smile at his antics. But not right now.
    Ujarak looked across the fighting circle. He froze, his gaze on Itigaituk’s wife. Swearing under his breath, he turned to his brother, Kumaglak. They spoke quietly together.
    Taliriktug handed his oldest son a long bone club. For a moment, Margot’s curiosity was caught and she wished to examine the weapon closer. Then she realized the weapon would be used against Mathis and her fear returned. Someone handed Itigaituk a similar shaped piece of bone.
    The angakkuq walked to the middle of the circle and beckoned everyone to silence. “A challenge has been made and accepted. This fight will take place as men with weapons only. No shifting is allowed. To do so is a forfeiture of the fight. If the combatants are ready, they can begin.”
    The whole crowd stood silent while the shaman walked out of the circle. Margot began wringing her hands. A litany of, I will be strong , running through her head. Both men entered the ring and began to circle each other, the crunch of the snow under their feet, the only sound. Margot closed her eyes. A part of her wanted to shake Mathis. Her eyes popped open. Why did he think this fight was all right with her?
     
    §
     
    Mathis felt the moment Margot’s worry turned to anger. He smiled. She was stronger than she realized.
    He looked at his uncle across from him. How did his father’s brother turn into such a bitter, angry man? This fight needed to end quickly and without anyone dying. His family couldn’t handle anything else. His grandfathers stood at the edge of the circle, grief on their faces. His grandmother refused to come. Itigaituk didn’t seem to realize how painful this was for their family, or maybe he didn’t care.
    His uncle moved suddenly, swinging at Mathis’s head. The crowd erupted with men cheering for their favorite. Mathis ducked and slammed his club across his uncle’s arm. Even with the fur clothes offering some protection, the crowd heard the sound of bones breaking.
    Itigaituk bellowed and swung again, coming from the opposite side. Mathis used his club to block the blow, his body vibrating with the collision. His uncle grunted and swung again. Mathis dodged, but the tip of the club scored his jaw. Pain lanced through his head. Mathis heard Margot cry out as blood dripped from his face onto the white snow.
    Calling on his strength. He thrust the club into his uncle’s gut. Itigaituk bowed over, holding