The closest I’ve ever come to a feral shifter is when I fought my dad, and he was more drunk than anything else, his reflexes slower and his actions easier to predict. The alpha here in the ring is something completely different.
He’s almost beautiful in his savagery, his movements fluid as he leans down and grips the dead beta’s foreleg, then whips his head, tossing the body into the chain-link dome above. A shower of sparks cascade from the point of impact and the body jerks in a horrific parody of life.
And the audience loves it, cheering as the sickly smell of burning fur spreads through the air.
The alpha turns his rage on the crowd and snarls, jumping and lunging toward the chain link without touching it. The people closest to the dome jerk backward, a few of them putting on affronted expressions as if shocked the alpha would dare to be so uncivilized as to attack the audience.
As if the blood and death weren’t solely for their entertainment.
The surviving beta takes advantage of the alpha’s distraction and heads toward me and Raquel, teeth bared. He doesn’t make it far.
The alpha whirls around, lets out a low, rumbling growl, then runs at the beta, his head lowered as he crashes into the gray wolf’s side, sending him careening into the wall again. The beta manages to keep his feet this time, but the alpha bats at him with one large paw and slams him to the ground.
The gray wolf lets out a whine. A plea for mercy, maybe, or a show of submission? Either way, it doesn’t matter. The alpha drags his claws down the other wolf’s belly and a wet pile of things I don’t really want to identify spills out onto the concrete. It still takes another swipe of claws for the beta to go still.
The alpha nudges the body with his nose as if checking to make sure it’s dead before turning that dark gaze on me.
My heart races in my chest and sweat beads at my brows as a kind of animal fear comes over me. That bloody, ragged wolf might be my fated mate, but I have no idea how much of the human side of him is left behind those empty eyes. Between fight, flight, and freeze, my body has picked the latter, my legs locking in place as if encased in a block of cement. I’m not exactly scared of him, but I’m certainly wary.
Verywary.
“What do we do?” asks Raquel in a low whisper, biting at her lower lip nervously.
“Honestly?” I let out a shaky, half-hysterical laugh. “I have no clue. It isn’t like I’ve ever been in this position before. I’d try appealing to his human side if I thought there was even a minuscule chance that the wolf isn’t in complete control right now.”
“What if you shifted? Would that, I don’t know, calm him down?”
“Maybe?” I shrug. “But shifting could also make everything worse. He’ll scent me as an omega instantly, and I have no idea what kind of instincts that might bring out when he’s in this state. I mean, my dad tried to kill me when he found out I’m an omega.”
“I think that was more about your dad being an asshole.”
“True, but it’s not really a risk I’m willing to take right now. Let’s just wait and see what he does and we’ll figure something out from there.”
The alpha takes a step toward us, and I widen my stance, holding my arms out to try to block Raquel. It’s not very effective. I’m not that much bigger than my friend, and if the alpha wants to go through me, he’ll have no problem doing it. I’ll just have to hope somewhere in his mind he understands I’m not his enemy, but I’m not going to let him hurt my friend.
Raquel inhales shakily, her hands digging into my shoulders. I take a slow step backward, moving us so her back is once again pressed flat against the wall.
The alpha continues forward, his eyes riveted on me with an intense, single-minded focus. He has a slight limp in his step from where the beta hamstringed him earlier, but thanks to shifter healing, the injury is nearly gone and he’s able to bear weight on the leg.
As he draws closer, I realize he’s even bigger than I thought, his head about chest level with me in his wolf form. Under the blood on his snout, I can make out more crisscrossing scars, and his ribs are way more visible than they should be for an animal his size. “Champion” or not, it’s clear he’s suffered years of abuse, whether inside the ring or out.
He stops mere feet from me, sitting back on his haunches and cocking his head to the side as if asking permission to come closer.
That’s a good sign at least, right?
I offer up a small smile and hold my hand out.
On a normal day, inviting a blood-covered alpha wolf who just killed two people to come closer would be a bad idea. But today… what’s the worst that could happen? He either going to back down or he’s going to kill me trying to get to Raquel. There’s not going to be any in-between, and I think it’s worth the risk.
He meets my gaze and the blank look in his eyes retreats a bit, replaced with that deep sadness from earlier. My wolf keens at the sight of his despair, his hopelessness. This is my fated mate, broken and bloody as he is, and I hate that I haven’t been there to protect him from all the pain the world has put on his shoulders.
The alpha stays seated, but leans forward, inching closer to my outstretched hand. He sniffs at the tips of my trembling fingers, then closes his eyes and pushes his head into my palm as if asking for pets. Which I guess he kind of is.
“Good boy,” I say softly, running my palm over his filthy fur.
Seven
Blake
