Naya couldn't get enough of him.
"Baby, after the fights," he said, "I'll give you whatever you want. All night long. But stop thinking those thoughts. You are distracting me."
He shook her in his arms, forcing her to pay attention. She squealed and giggled, letting even more explicit images fill her head.
"Treasure,” he growled, "are you trying to help my enemies take me to my knees?" His mouth curved in a wicked grin as he dropped her legs so that their bodies were flush, letting her feel what she did to him.
She forgot where they were, what they were doing. He made her head spin and her body drip.
"Let's not. Let's just go back home." She wrapped her arms as tight as she could around his neck. It was a long reach; she couldn't even get her hands into his hair.
As if they were alone, her mouth found the muscles of his chest. He tasted so good. This half-naked male was hers, and it was impossible to resist indulging in him. Having sex with him would be so much better than going into that ugly, evil-looking cage.
There was yelling from the crowd and a masculine roar from nearby. She didn't look to see had won the current fight, but kept her face pressed against her alpha. If something happened to Monster, the men in this building would kill each other to get at her. Then they would tear her apart.
If something happened to him, she was done. Life over. Either way, she would only leave here alive if she was in Monster's arms.
Behind them someone spoke, the voice directed toward Monster.
"One of your challengers is missing, and I've had another man declare."
"Who is missing?"
"Seta."
"And who has challenged me?"
"Wouldn't give a name. Older guy. More scars than you."
Monster grunted, unfazed. There was no tension in his muscles. This was no big deal to him.
"How many before me?"
"One more."
Monster grunted again. There was a whole wealth of words in that noise. His confidence was that of the biggest, meanest predator in the room, taking all of Naya's focus.
She clung to him, pressing her belly against him as his hardening shaft pushed aside the panels of his kilt. He tightened his grasp on her neck and lowered her arms to his waist. A glance up at his face revealed that he was scanning the crowd.
She knew they had men here. He'd spoken with both Nixon and Alreck before walking from the tower. His men had separated before they entered the building, fanned out. Her monster did not want any his rivals to see him walking around with guards as if he couldn't take care of himself and his mate. While his men wore both armor and weapons, he had nothing to defend himself but his claws.
Energetic readiness, a spring of coiled patience, hummed from him to her. She could feel it. He was not anxious, not afraid, but mindful—alert. In her world, dominant alphas fought challenges with words or deadly subterfuge targeted to weaken the opponent. Someone kidnapping her in her own home on the eve of her bonding ceremony, from her father's house under his very nose, had weakened her father in the eyes of his peers.
Naya was sure of it.
If he couldn't protect his own child, how could he protect the financial interests of his clients? The loss of his daughter had shamed him before the world. If Crispin's father, Corre, had any wisdom, this would not be his only strike. Corre had probably shamed her family in other ways as well.
All of it bloodless, but effective.
With others’ respect and confidence in her father weakened, it would force him into retirement, or worse—a humiliating discharge. Once an alpha lost his standing as Master, it was almost impossible to win it back. Her father and mother would not just lose their standing in the community; they'd likely become dependent on their children to support their loss of income.
Naya had barely thought about what must be happening at home before now. Pressed up against the wall of Monster's body, her mind addled, she'd thought only of the changes in her own life.
He'd told her she couldn't talk to them, but she realized now that losing her would have affected them in more ways than she'd considered—socially, financially. She had to let them know that she had survived, and that she had also bonded the second-born son of King Rhineholth.
There was another roar from the crowd in response to what was happening in the cage. Naya looked over and saw a male lifting his arms in triumph over the prone body of his opponent.
As her gaze shifted away from the brutal scene, it caught on the seething glare of a familiar face. Through the bars and wires of the cage, across the room, a man stood watching them.
