"We need to stop it," Declan says to Parker, who nods. "I've never seen him like this."
Parker turns and raises his megaphone. "That's all for tonight, folks-"
The crowd boos. They want blood. I'll give it to them.
I rise to my feet and plod to the center of the ring, the crowd's cries washing over my bruised flesh. "Nash. Nash," they chant. "King of the Beasts."
My opponent turns with a mean smile. I grin back and let loose my lion.
Red. Black. Black. Black.
"Nash, stop, stop!" A grey head flashes in front of me. Parker, shouting, mouth open and wild. "You won. He's down. Stop before you kill him." The air is heavy with the scent of blood. My lion approves.
"You won," Parker repeats. I try to take a step and stagger under the weight of several bouncers. Panic rises, and I thrash to throw them off. No use. The prison guards have shock sticks.
"Let him go," Parker cries and the men release me, jumping back. But I run, claws out. I'm blind, blood streaming into my eyes. I reach the fence. It's not electric. Someone turned the power off. This is my chance.
"Nash-" Declan is on the other side of the fence.
I raise my hands-now tipped with black claws-and swipe through the metal.
My claws tear and I howl but don't stop until there's a hole big enough for a lion to rush through.
Then I run. My lion is out, people are screaming, scrambling out of my way. Red claws at my eyes, black lurking in the corners, threatening. One final burst of speed and I'm outside. Falling to all fours, I let the darkness consume me.
I WAKE NAKED in the car, my mouth full of blood. I cough on the tang and almost spatter the wrinkled piece of paper lying on the dash. Denali's address. The lion found it and put it there.
"All right. All right."
Every inch of my body screams. My hands are swollen, bloody. Over the past few months, the shifter healing has slowed, and that can only mean one thing: I'm dying. It's only a matter of time. It's only a question of how many I take with me.
I can't risk Denali. But the next time I black out, my lion might take me to her door. There's no telling what he'd do.
He's made it clear, if I let him die, he'll take everyone he can down with him. I have no choice. I have to go to Denali now, when I'm in control.
I find a change of clothes in my trunk and get dressed. I put the car in gear and drive, not sure if I'm a dying man headed for the gallows, or a cure.
Nash
THE ADDRESS LEADS me to a little house in Temecula. I pull up and idle a moment. My hand shakes as I park. Excitement? Or the last stages of madness?
It's a mistake to come here. I know this as soon as I step onto the little porch, and her scent hits me. Blackness curls from the edges of my vision, pulling me under.
THE GUARDS HAVE guns on her. My lion surges to the fore, angry. It's been so long since he's killed. But when the naked female stumbles forward, I catch her. My arms close around her body and I pull her soft form against my hard one. She's tall, her head coming just under my chin, soft, dark hair a cloud in my face. The cinnamon scent hits me again, until I taste it.
"Another one for you, Nash." The guard's voice is harsh, mocking. They see what I do with the females they bring me. There are cameras in the corners of the room. They watch. I know what they'll do if I refuse: hurt the female. They've learned I don't give a shit what they do to me, but I can't stand to watch someone else be tortured as a result of my choices.
For some reason, this one sends an extra blast of protective fury through me. My grip tightens around her. She stiffens.
"You know what to do. Get to it. Or else." The threat hangs in the air. I want to tear them apart with my teeth.
The door scrapes as they leave.
I don't want to move. I could hold her like this for the night, and never feel wanting. But desire's there too, bubbling up, the first hint of warmth after a long winter. With the other females, I had to focus to get myself hard enough to breed them. I spent a long time on foreplay to make sure they were ready and get myself into the right mindset. I'll do that for this one, too, but it won't be for me. My lion's already rumbling for her.
She glares up at me like I'm the enemy. I sense anger in her, rising, matching mine. Frustration. A spirit uncowed. Brave. Naked and defenseless, but not afraid.
Because I'm angry for her, because I'm furious such a beautiful, fresh lioness would be forced into this awful situation, I snarl.
She jerks back, out of my grasp.
I immediately reach for her. "I won't hurt you," I promise. My lion needs to soothe her. It's a primordial instinct, like eating or killing. I try to push down the need coiling below my waist.
"What are you supposed to do?" she asks. The wariness in her expression tells me she already knows. Her body knows it, too. Her cocoa-tipped nipples stand up, hard and pointed.
Filling my lungs with her delicious scent, I tip her face up to mine. "What's your name?"
"DENALI." I whisper. Inside, my lion waits, patient on this hunt. I follow the cinnamon scent on the air to the screen door.