Alpha's Last Fight: A Paranormal Shapeshifter BBW Romance

by Rose, Aubrey

He shrugged. “Your call. Maybe I’ll see you on Friday if there’s enough of you left to stitch back together.”

  “Sure thing, Doc.”

  Over the next couple of days, I had several similar appointments. A personal trainer, a lawyer. Even, I shit you not, a stylist. All of them copped a similar attitude to the doctor, acting like I was signing my life away.

  After a while I began to get a little nervous, like I was missing something. I would have been more worried if I hadn’t been watching the fights every night and getting a good look at potential opponents in the gym. These guys were good, sure. Well trained and disciplined. But I could take them.

  It wasn’t them I’d be fighting, though. I started asking around, but no one seemed to know who my opponent was or, if they did, their answers were vague and evasive. In the end, I decided to pay Vince a visit.

  ***

  “Hutch! Great to see you. Hope you’ve been enjoying the calm before the storm. How was Tiffany? Not your type? Plenty more fish in that particular sea, just get one of the drones in hospitality to hook you up.”

  He rifled through a stack of papers on his desk before continuing.

  “So far, it looks like everything checks out and we’re good to go. You got anything you want, let me know. Any particular food you’d like before the bout? Doesn’t matter what it is, we’ll get it in for you. No expense spared.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like a last meal.”

  Vince burst into the loudest laughter I’d heard in a while.

  “Last meal! Hilarious. You, you are too much, Hutch. I knew you were something else as soon as you stepped through the door. Now, really, is there anything I can get you?”

  “I’d feel a lot better if I knew who I was fighting. Is it one of the guys from the pool here?”

  He shook his head and his eyes narrowed slightly - I would have missed it if I hadn’t already been suspicious.

  “No, no, it’s an out-of-town fellow.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Possibly, Hutch, possibly, but I doubt it. I sincerely doubt it. This guy doesn’t exactly have many friends, if you know what I mean!”

  Shit. I felt like an idiot that I hadn’t figured it out beforehand.

  “A loner? You’ve got me fighting a loner? Fuck. And no one thought to tell me?”

  He spread his hands as if to say you-got-me. It wasn’t good enough. Loners weren’t human, and they weren’t animals. They were monsters. The strength I was so good at finding inside myself? My ability to balance between man and animal in a way few others could? That was a loner’s natural state.

  Only they didn’t give a fuck about balance or their humanity. They just lived with this kind of strength all the time and before long they didn’t care what it did to them, what it made them.

  I’d seen a loner fight once. And that was enough. He ripped his opponent to shreds and then lost it and started going to work on the front row of the crowd. It took half a dozen fighters to subdue him, and none of them came out of it unscathed.

  It was this atrocity that had led to me adopting a strict no loner policy for our own fights.

  “You’re not fucking serious, are you?” I asked. He smiled, a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Come on. Wake up, Hutch. What did you think would happen? Did you honestly think anyone was going to pay you half a million bucks to watch you butt heads with the kind of guys you’re used to fighting? You think anyone is going to pay fifty large a seat to watch something your hillbillies in Bumfuck, Nowhere can hoot and holler at for twenty bucks a night?”

  I growled. It was one thing to insult me, but it was another to insult my pack. But he just laughed and continued on as though he hadn’t heard me.

  “I’d heard you were arrogant, but I had no idea just how full of yourself you were. You’re nothing, Hutch.”

  “I’m the leader of a pack back home. In case you didn’t know.”

  “Oh! Excuse me! Chief fuck-up of a pack of fuck-ups! Did you honestly think people were paying to come see you fight? My god, Hutch! They don’t even know who you are. They came to see a desperate loser get ripped to shreds by a real life monster. They came for blood. Your blood. What did you think you were signing up for?”

  I’d been an idiot. I guess as soon as I saw a way out, I’d latched onto the idea that this was the start of something bigger. I’d fix everything, maybe even mend a few of the bridges I’d burned getting here. But I’d been lying to myself the whole time. This was never going to be my way out.

  I was a loser, and this was my one shot at redemption. A chance to go out swinging and try and make amends for some of the damage I’d done. I was being paid, well paid, for a monster to bat me around the ring until it got bored for the entertainment of a handful of modern day Caligulas.

  Fuck. I was more of a dog than Nat had ever been. Vince’s shoulders relaxed as he saw me ease back. As he saw me submit.

  “There, there. Surely you understand. Surely you get it now, son?”

  “Sure,” I growled. “I got it.”

  “Good, good. Look, I’m terribly sorry about your pack. Shit happens, and all that. I didn’t mean to insult you. You just needed a reality check, kid. Now you get it, good.”

  I nodded. Whatever you say, boss.

  “So.” He clasped his hands together. “How about that dinner? Nico does a steak to die for. No pun intended.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Excellent.”

  I turned to leave, then paused mid-step.

  “Hey, you know a decent tattooist round here? I got to get some ink done.”

  If this was going be my last fight, I needed to finish my story first.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Hutch

  I was doing Tai Chi in the locker room when my opponent arrived. It didn’t really help with my preparation, but it took my mind off the waiting. I couldn’t stop thinking about Natalie. And Gina, and the rest of the pack. How I’d fucked it all up. Well, at least I’d buy something with my death. And Natalie wouldn’t have to watch me fight ever again. Not after the loner they’d set me up against got through with me.

  I heard his step on the floor before his voice came rolling across the locker room.

  “Good to see you again, Hutch.”

  The voice was familiar and not familiar at the same time. Deep and gravelly, barely human, like a grotesque parody of someone I used to know. I looked up and saw the specter of a wolf I used to know.

  “Quinn? Quinn? Holy fuck, I thought you were—”

  “Dead?”

  “I was going to say enjoying your retirement.”

  He was barely recognizable. Long, lanky hair and a beard to match. What little of his face I could see was a mass of scar tissue. One eye was missing, in its place a ragged, puckered scar. He didn’t bother with an eye patch.

  “Ask me how Sabine’s doing?”

  I had to tread carefully here. Quinn’s whole body seemed to expand with each breath. I could sense the rage that fueled him and waited to see if he would say anything else. I waited too long for him, though. With a roar he sprung across the room and grabbed me by the throat, lifting me and slamming me into a locker.

  “Ask me!”

  “Sure Quinn, whatever you say. How’s Sabine doing? She still looking after you?”

  “She’s dead.”

  His body rippled as he spoke. The monster he had become bubbled away under the surface with nothing to keep it in check. He squeezed tighter and I could feel the pressure building against my windpipe.

  “She didn’t last the first winter. You remember that winter, Hutch? Remember how cold it was? It wasn’t the cold that killed her, though. It was the shame that broke her heart. You killed her. You understand me?”

  “I didn’t… I didn’t do anything.” My throat felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

  “You did enough. Sure, she liked to fuck around. That didn’t bother me none. She liked fucking you. No accounti
ng for taste, I guess. But she was my mate. She was always my mate. And you used her to betray me. You used her to beat me, and it broke her fucking heart.”

  I couldn’t breathe. Quinn’s grip was like a vise, and even if I could focus enough to draw on some of the animal inside, I doubted it would have helped.

  “QUINN!” Vince’s shout carried from the locker room door, but to me his voice sounded far away, like my ears were filled with water.

  Quinn snarled as he turned to face the door. In profile I could see the elongated snout and jaws, as if he were stuck halfway between man and wolf.

  “Kill him now and you won’t get paid,” Vince said. He sounded scared.

  “Like I give a fuck. This one I’d do for free.”

  “Save it for the ring.”

  Quinn released me and I fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, gasping for air. I thanked god Vince was there, but honestly his intervention didn’t really save me so much as prolong my death. He wanted me to wait until there was a crowd of big spenders watching. Then I could die.

  Quinn turned on me again as I continued to struggle for oxygen. “I’m going to take pleasure in gutting you, boy.”

  Fuck me.

  ***

  As I entered the ring opposite Quinn, I felt as if I had come full circle. That fight, five years ago, had led me here. My arrogance, my desire to win, my willingness to use other people to get what I wanted.

  Along the way I’d ruined everything good in my life. The pack, Gina, and finally, Natalie.

  The one person who made me a better man, the one person who made me feel like I had a future, and I’d ruined that, too.

  It was all my fault, all of it. There was no one else to blame. There was no redemption to be had here. It wouldn’t fix anything, but at least the money would help. I’d made sure it would go to the right people.

  I stepped into an arena swollen by noise and light. More crowded than I had seen it since I had arrived. But I chose to ignore the crowd. There was no one there I gave a damn about. Certainly no one who gave a damn about me. No gestures. No gimmicks.

  Even though I felt certain I would die that day, I hadn’t given up. I would be fighting to win. All I had left was pride, and I planned to make a good account of myself. If I was going down, I was going down swinging.

  I was only ever good at two things. Fighting and fucking up. Tonight, I intended to fight.

  The announcer droned on about Quinn or me or maybe both. His words evaporated into the heat of the arena like mist.

  Quinn wasn’t paying any attention, either. His single eye fixed on me. Sizing me up.

  I’d never fought anyone like him before. He would be bigger, stronger, meaner and faster than anyone I had ever faced. If we stood toe-to-toe and slugged it out, I would lose and lose bad. I had to find a weakness and exploit it. Just like when I beat him the first time.

  Sabine, another name for the list of lives I had destroyed. I was sorry for what I did. For what happened because of it. I would have been sorry for Quinn too, but it was a luxury I couldn’t afford right now.

  Weaknesses? His hate. His hate for me would make him strong, but it might also make him sloppy. He wouldn’t want this to be over quickly. He’d want to draw it out, see me suffer. Shit. How did that help me?

  The crowd was booing. I don’t think either of us had noticed the buzzer signaling that the fight had begun. Or maybe we had, but didn’t care. We would start when we were ready.

  “I’m sorry about Sabine, I really am.” That part, at least, was sincere. But Quinn didn’t care. We began to circle each other, side-stepping around the ring. Moving enough to calm the crowd a little.

  “I’m sorry she didn’t stay. Maybe she would have stood a chance with someone who could look after her, keep her safe… keep her satisfied. She was fucking half the pack, Quinn. And you just let her.”

  He jabbed at me with his right hand and all I had to do was lean back to avoid it. There was no strength behind the jab: he was just testing his reach. He grinned.

  “They tell me I’ve gone crazy. That I’m some kind of monster,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. Do you want to know a secret? You can’t make me more angry than I already am. You can’t make me hate you more than I already do. There’s no point in trying. I’m just so full of rage I’m just about ready to...”

  He pulled back his left, but I was ready. This one, I was sure, would have a bit more force about it. I saw his shoulders turn, and I made to get out of the way of his fist. Then... BAM! He lunged forward, so fast I didn’t see it coming, his forehead crashing into the bridge of my nose so hard that it sent me flying backwards into the ropes.

  I could taste blood in my mouth, and my vision was blurred. Pain flared as I shook my head to try and clear it. It wasn’t my first broken nose, but this one was bad. I spat on the ground and pulled myself to my feet.

  I was calm, and with that calm came control. With control came strength. I’d need it. I called the wolf inside me. Help me. Help me now, and later you can run free. I promise. But first we gotta kick this guy’s ass.

  I tried to move fast. I tried to surprise him. When I came to my feet I kept moving, channeling everything I had through my shoulder and into my right arm. He didn’t even bother to dodge. He just swatted at me and deflected the blow.

  I was still off balance when he lashed out again, catching me on the shoulder. He followed this up with a kick to the knee. I managed to move with that one a little, not deflecting it, but minimizing any damage it might do. I couldn’t afford to be immobilized. That would be the end of me.

  He was strong. He was fast, and he was still getting warmed up.

  “You want this? You want this? COME ON!”

  He roared at me in a voice barely recognizable as human. He was changing. Becoming something else. A monster. I could see his body rippling beneath his skin. Muscles bulged as his torso became broader. His face changed too. His nose and jaw seemed longer, almost as if they were being stretched. His one good eye was glowing like fire.

  One eye. A weakness. I had to be able to use it somehow. But I couldn’t even get close to him. Every punch I threw got pushed aside and was immediately followed up by a powerful counter attack.

  I dodged, I ducked, and I survived glancing blow after glancing blow. But sooner or later I knew I’d screw up and when I did...

  He caught me across the cheek with a solid right hook. I heard the crunch of bone and felt an explosion of agony as something shattered in the side of my face.

  The force of the blow sent me to the floor again, slammed against the mat. My face was a mess. I had a gash on my chest I couldn’t remember getting and I’d taken at least a dozen blows to the body. I don’t think I’d landed a single solid punch in return.

  I looked for more strength, but found none. I was tapped out.

  Quinn barely looked human now. He had taken on an entirely new form. He had become what the people in the old countries called a werewolf. Something they called an abomination.

  I tried to speak, but my jaw didn’t want to cooperate.

  “That looks… painful.” His words were deep and rasping. Slurred, as if it were a struggle to form the words. I couldn’t resist a chuckle, and paid for it immediately as the movement cause the pain in my cheek to flare.

  “What’s… so funny.”

  The monster reached down and grabbed me by the sides. His claws punctured me along the torso and I almost fainted from the pain as he lifted me off the ground. My entire body weight was supported solely by his piercing claws.

  “I said... what’s… so... fucking funny?”

  “This.”

  I called on my last reserves of strength as I pulled my arm back. When I let fly, he saw it coming and responded immediately.

  But what he didn’t see was that it was a slow-ball. I pulled my punch, and he responded as if he expected more power. Instead my own arm rippled and changed, my hand becoming a paw, my fingers claws. He didn’t have
time to react again as I aimed a swipe at his brow, above his eye.

  I opened him up. Three gashes, not deep, but they didn’t need to be. Not there. Blood started flowing immediately. Running down his face and into his one good eye.

  The crowd loved it, or at least they loved the blood. And even if I was going to die here, it felt good to show off my party trick to an appreciative audience one last time.

  He roared with anger and tossed me aside like I was a broken toy. And when I crashed into the mat, I felt like one. I couldn’t go on much longer. That stunt had taken just about everything I had.

  I heard screams and squeals from the front rows as Quinn lurched out of the ring, looking for something to wipe the blood out of his eyes. It afforded me a brief respite, but at this point it was just prolonging the inevitable.

  There had to be more. I looked inside for anything. Some kind of inner strength I’d never tapped before. Something… anything, I could latch onto.

  And there was… something. Something deep, deep down inside. Something dark and dangerous. Somewhere I’d never even thought of looking for before today. Beyond the man, lay the animal. Beyond the animal, lay the monster.

  I pulled myself up on my feet and faced the crowd. Those pathetic people who could only bask in my glory. They’d never know what it felt like… to… to…

  I was changing. My shoulders growing, bones grinding on bones as my muscles shifted. It was agony. Despite the broken bones in my face I threw my head back and screamed. This wasn’t like the smooth natural transition between man and wolf. This was something older. Something more primal.

  It was evil. I’d never been a big believer in right and wrong and good and evil. Two sides of the same coin and all that. But this… this was something else entirely. This was pure evil. How could I embrace it willingly?

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

  I heard Quinn’s voice from beyond the border I had crossed, the border between wolf and monster. His words snarled, jagged in the air.

  “They say this is what drives us mad. Some people can’t handle it. They’re too scared to turn back. To face the pain again. So they never do. But some people embrace the pain. Let it make them stronger. Which one are you, Hutch?”