“Ready to do this?” Trace snarled, stepping forward. “I accept your challenge,” Remy told him in a firm voice that carried to the spectators. “But my beta will fight.” Trace’s smirk slipped. “What?” Remy lifted his injured arm. “I’m unable to fight, so my beta will. Now.” Something like panic started creeping onto Trace’s face. “Can’t I bury my father first?”
