Mac.
She didn't know him well, but Naya knew it was him. He and the alpha next to him were shirtless and wearing fighting kilts like Monster. They stood amongst a group of males who seemed connected, all of them watching her and Monster with concentrated animosity.
Mac had not come to the challenge alone. Whatever his relationship to these men before, Monster now had a greater number of enemies to face than expected.
Nothing in Monster's behavior indicated he had noticed them, but Naya was sure he must have.
There was some shuffling in the cage as the winner was announced. "Alpha Dale has taken down Rook the Plow, who suffers from a broken arm and collar bone! If you bet on The Plow, you had better be ready to dig out your credits—it's going to be some time before he goes farming again. If you bet on young Dale, your credits have doubled!"
There were cheers of triumph mixed with growls of disgust from the audience. In the eerie, shifting light, the men in the balconies looked like hungry ghouls as they shook their fists and jeered at those in the cage beneath them.
Monster leaned down to speak into her ear. "You will go in with me. Stay in the corner. I want you nearby."
Naya shivered. This place smelled of stinking, rotten men. But pressed up against Monster, she could only smell him. She did not want to have to go in that metal box of death.
He picked her up. She gripped his waist with her legs automatically, and they moved as one toward the challenge area.
Men around them catcalled and sneered. She heard the word, "pussy" shouted derogatorily as they passed.
Monster's right arm shot out into the crowd while the left held her tight against him. Then he swiped his claws, a lethal show of force.
A hot spray of blood soaked the clothing on her back before she’d even registered what had happened.
A body crumpled beside them, and the rest of the crowd quieted as they stepped back.
At the door of the cage, a red coated claw tipped her chin back so Monster could pin her with his black gaze. He didn't try to talk, and she knew he'd become the real monster—all teeth and thick tongue. But he continued to purr for her anyway. His eyes searched hers, questioning.
She’d met him in blood, Naya reminded herself. She had accepted him. She'd deal with this. Maybe she’d throw up a little when he wasn't looking, but she would find a way.
Dressed in a weird patchwork outfit with a bright red tie around his neck, the male who directed things introduced Monster and his first challenger to the crowd.
"And now we have the Mad Monster of the tower, come to defend his throne. He has challenged Berendal, Slumlord and Master of the North Pit. Berendal offers a champion in his stead!"
Monster set Naya down in his corner. As she skimmed the crowd behind them, she saw Alreck and what she assumed was another of Monster's men on patrol.
Monster met her eyes, and though he said nothing, she felt and envisioned a hundred beautiful things through their bond all at once. The flood of love was so pure and overwhelming that she almost collapsed under its weight.
Then Monster was roaring, a great, resounding sound as he moved to the center of the ring.
It was bigger inside than it looked from outside. Its fluid-stained floor had an odd bounce and give under her feet. It was not what she would’ve called soft, but it wasn't concrete either.
In contrast, the unforgiving bars of the construct were wrapped with jagged wire, and she had to be careful not to press back against them.
"Keep your eyes on our alpha, Lady," Alreck shouted from somewhere behind her in the crowd
Though her heart was beating in her throat and her stomach was rolling, Naya focused on her bond and her alpha. She wouldn't lower herself by distracting him with waves of overwhelming emotion.
The sweaty musk of breed pheromones scented the air, a pollution of feral male emotion causing her eyes to tear. This place, this event, and these people were so far beyond her experience she could not process them. But for her husband-mate, Naya would try.
Monster was not playing games. There was no preening or grandstanding. He wanted these challenges resolved.
Berendal's champion rolled into the cage, an ugly, smashed-faced alpha with a bulging upper body and comparably thin legs. Half a foot shorter than Monster with bloodshot brown eyes glazed over by drugs, he sneered at her Alpha. He answered Monster's roar with one of his own, flashing the dangerous points of incisors.
His left hand was clenched in a fist and Naya thought she saw something there, pointed and prickly.
She didn't know what the rules of the cage were. Was that a weapon? Monster was on the other man in a flash, taking advantage his distraction with the cheering spectators above.
Berendal's man was a fool. He should never have taken his eyes off the predator before him.
