Page 69 of Bad Blood Panther

Chapter 27

Xander was led to the arena and shoved into one of the tents. It held a bucket of water—presumably for proper hydration and washing off blood between fights—and a rough wooden bench. That was it.

The guard removed his manacles. “Strip off,” he said to Xander. “This is a real battle. Teeth and claws.”

Just fucking awesome.

They were going to put him up against battle-tested warriors, and then watch while they killed him. And then Alton Raines would take Brandon, and shove Jenny back into his harem like she was a prize from a fucking McDonald’s Happy Meal action figure collection.

It really sucked that Flynn and the others would probably only get here in time to bring his body home. He hoped they buried him somewhere nice. Maybe poured a beer on his grave now and then.

He thought about Kayisha, the ghost that had haunted Sloan for years.

Maybe Xander could haunt the crew. That would be awesome. He wondered if he could take some time off and haunt these fuckers, as well.

That would be even better.

Or we kill them all, his cat said.

Yeah. Or that. Maybe it was time to channel his homicidal rage.

He let himself sink down into the memory of the dark days, the days just after he was Turned.

Rage. Deep rage, for what he’d lost. Anger. Fury.

Kill. Kill them all. Kill everything. Destroy it, because what is there left?

No home. No family. They took it all away.

They took it all away.

Except now, he had years of fight experience to draw on. His time on the streets. His months in Alexander Grant’s cells, honing his will, his determination, his survival instincts.

A year of fighting his crew. Months of cage combat training from Jasmin and Brody.

He would not go down. Whatever they did, however they tried to break him, they couldn’t. His grief and anger hadn’t broken him. Grant’s fucking guards and scientists hadn’t broken him. His loneliness hadn’t broken him. He’d thought they had, but he’d found Jenny and Brandon, and learned he still had some love left in him. Something to live for.

These fucking panthers wouldn’t break him either. He had Flynn the indestructible on his side. He had Lissa the unbroken, Tank the Protector. Sloan and Caitlyn, who’d followed their bond through the spirit world and home again, fighting for each other the whole way. He had Jasmin, the Demon Queen of the Amazon, and Brody the fucking White Tornado Monster Wolf.

Never submit. Never give up.

Never say die.

The guards escorted him out to the fight ring. Naked, of course. Because that was supposed to make him feel vulnerable or some shit.

He didn’t care. He continued to feed the rage inside him, getting his cat riled up. Kill them all. Save your family. Kill them all. Save your family.

Kill them all.

They walked him up in front of the platform, where Alton Fucking Raines was now sitting on his stupid-ass throne. Just behind the throne, on either side, stood two lieutenants. One was a scarred-up dude Xander didn’t know. The other he did recognize, from back when he hung out with Jenny and Cindi and thought their friends were just regular humans.

Trent Powell. Some kind of cousin to Rhett, the last alpha. A finance guy. Smart. Decent.

He was the one who should be running this clan, with Rhett gone. Too bad he was too much of a wussy to stand up to Alton.

What the hell was wrong with these fuckers, that they didn’t step up and do the right thing? Flynn was certifiably batshit cray-cray, and he was a better alpha than Raines. And Tank would never let anybody get the crew killed off because they were too egotistical to stand fucking down.

He didn’t see Jenny or Brandon. He was glad his son wasn’t going to witness this, but he really wished he could see him one more time.