by Jaide Fox
“I don’t need one,” Elgir said, bowing up his shoulders and chest to let the change come over him. White fur sprouted along his skin. His fingernails erupted into wicked, black claws. His face changed too. His nose elongated, turning into a snout as his head grew in size to dominate his shoulders. Elgir snapped his jaws, revealing rows of sharp canines just as the signal rang through the air.
In a split second, Torin dropped his sword, opting to fight the same as Elgir, man to man…shifter to shifter.
Torin’s fingers morphed into claws just in time to receive a direct hit from Elgir.
The wolfman slammed Torin back. Torin’s heels rippled through the dirt, digging foot long tracks as he braced to keep from falling.
Elgir howled, slicing into his ribs as Torin brought his elbow down to block the strike.
“Straight for the heart?” he ground out. “You didn’t want to toy with me first?”
He landed a rapid succession of blows that stunned Elgir, forcing him to back off before he could deal another hit. Torin punched through his fur covered skin, turning the white red with blood.
Before his eyes, the slashes of open flesh knitted together, becoming whole once more.
The reality of his situation hit Torin like a gut shot.
The bastard could heal his wounds within seconds. He didn’t need a weapon, because he couldn’t get hurt.
Torin thought about his beautiful Orcha, devastated thinking that she’d killed her lover, trying to hurt and kill herself, to no avail. Still haunted by guilt and dreams of terror. She said she couldn’t die. The memory was dim, but it was there. Elgir had infected her with the same virus that transformed him into a wolf.
How was he going to win over an enemy that did not bleed?
Elgir growled and ripped his shirt off, throwing it to the ground in a cloud of dust. He laughed, watching his enemy, if that barking sound could be considered a laugh.
Torin’s mind raced, calculating his moves to preserve his dwindling energy.
They stalked one another, darting left and right. If he could keep out of reach, he might tire Elgir enough that he couldn’t keep up his rapid healing. It was the only solution he could see to the problem.
Torin didn’t need proximity to connect a blow. He twisted his body, flinging his arm as it contorted into a tentacle dotted with suctioned mouths filled with razor-like teeth.
He struck him in the chest and stomach and retracted. Snapping the tentacle like a whip, he opened the wolfman’s flesh like a zipper. Blood spattered on the floor, turning the dirt to mud.
Healing every wound, Elgir raised his face to the sky and howled like he’d already won the fight.
Gloating bastard.
Torin grimaced, feeling his muscles burn at the continued assault. He couldn’t tell if Elgir was getting tired or not.
The tentacle arm moved like lightning, snatching Elgir’s leg out from under him. He landed in the dirt and rolled on top of the extension, snapping it with his jaw until he forced Torin to retreat.
Riding high on adrenaline, the initial surge began to wane as his injuries mounted. Torin’s arm hung limp by his side, torn and bleeding.
The sounds of the crowd dimmed to a dull thud in his ears.
Elgir lashed out with one meaty fist, slugging Torin in the jaw. He hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t expected the basic move. He cursed his stupidity as his head snapped on his shoulders, sending him careening to the ground. His eardrums rang, and then the breath expunged from his lungs as fists battered his exposed back.
Torin used his precious energy reserves to plate his back with spikes. He grunted when the wolf howled as his knuckles split on the sharp projections.
He forced himself onto his knees, driving spiked knuckles into his opponent’s legs to push him back. Again and again, flesh rendered apart and then whole.
Torin was fighting a losing battle.
***
Orcha hung over the railing, her heart pounding to get free of her chest. She dragged a breath in, trying to calm down, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t look away.
When Torin hit the ground, she thought for one fateful moment, that he was done.
His back sprouted spikes, fending off another attack, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep him safe for long.
Elgir couldn’t be killed if none of his wounds held open long enough to allow him to bleed.
“Torin,” she screamed, watching as he raised onto his knees and pummeled the other man for nothing. Nothing!
He was getting sloppy, sluggish from blood loss.
She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be unable to avoid a fatal blow, and then it would be over. Elgir would win.
She couldn’t watch this. She couldn’t handle it.
She couldn’t look away.
Elgir slammed a fist into Torin’s battered face. Torin hit the ground on his back and lay still. She couldn’t see his chest moving.
Panic, rage, and fear welled inside her. Chills blistered her skin.
Orcha couldn’t contain it any longer. On her back, the inhibitor tattoo burned like the fires of hell.
Without thought, she jumped onto the railing and leapt out into the sky. Behind her, she heard the gasps of the crowd.
Sailing through the air, wind whipped through her hair, against her skin. Adrenaline rushed her veins. The change came over her, narrowing her vision to a pinpoint of light as pain tingled along her nerves. Skin became fur. Hands into paws. Bones melded and shifted as her fury boiled inside and erased her humanity.
She hit the ground as a white wolf. Unbound by the weakness of human flesh, she raced across the field, long legs eating the ground with mind blowing speed.
Blood tinged the air. The sound of Torin’s labored breathing pricked her ears. She could smell his sweet sweat and the rotten stench of Elgir above all else.
Torin’s eyes widened at her approach.
Elgir turned to see what caused Torin’s reaction.
Orcha hit him in the chest with her full body weight. He grunted as she knocked the breath from his lungs and he slammed into the ground.
She snapped her jaws around his throat, felt blood gurgling into her mouth. He grabbed her and slung her away, and she yelped at the sting of pain as she landed in a heap.
Elgir barked a warning, jumping back onto his feet.
Orcha advanced, quicker in full wolf form than Elgir could hope to be in partial shift. She lunged, ripped his kneecap open to see him stumble to his knees and howl in pain. She gnashed his chest, splitting ribs as she drove for his heart.
Behind her, she sensed Torin stagger to his feet.
Blood tasted sweet. The cries of her enemy sweeter.
He battered her away, digging his claws into her this time as he flung her across the grounds.
She launched back to her feet to see Torin standing in her place, over Elgir. She’d given him the precious few seconds he’d needed to get up.
He spared her not a glance, his eyes locked on his enemy. Torin whipped a hand down, punching his fist into Elgir’s chest before it could close.
Torin snatched his arm back. In his hand, he held a beating heart up to the sky. He looked down at his enemy. “Heal that,” he growled.
Elgir gripped his chest with his hands, his eyes turning dim, his mouth slackening, and collapsed.
Dead. At last.
The audience screamed. The coliseum rumbled with thunderous applause, lifting into the spires and reverberating through the air and into their bodies.
Torin dropped the pulsing heart with disgust and turned to face her.
Orcha crouched and released the fury in her blood, watching as she turned human once more, shivering and naked for one and all to see. There was no pain this time, only relief.
Her transformation back into human form made the gathering go wilder.
Torin extended a hand and helped her to her feet. He pulled her flush against his chest and belly. Their breaths mingled as Torin bent h
is head and claimed her mouth in a soft kiss.
The earth shook beneath them. Her ears rang, almost to the point of pain.
But for her, nothing existed but this man. Her man. Torin.
He ripped his mouth free and caught her in his arms, holding her tight.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” she whispered into his ear, listening to his breathing and reveling in the scent of him, alive and whole.
“If I live in your heart as you do in mine, you could never lose me. Time and death do not matter. Only love.” He cupped her jaw, looking into her eyes. “I love you, my warrior woman.”
Her eyes watered and her heart swelled. “And I love you, Torin.”
Epilogue
“You had me afraid that you would join me in the games after running out there in the field.”
“Like this? As I am now? You tease me too much, Torin,” Orcha said, pointing at her stomach.
Torin chuckled and bit her toes. She tried to jerk her foot away from his hands, but he gripped her tight.
She wiggled her toes against his nose and pinched it, and he put it back in his lap.
“I thought you were boasting when you said you’d given me a baby. I didn’t know I should be taking you serious, Torin,” Orcha said, a hand on her rounded belly. She watched Torin rub cream on her swollen feet and legs—because he loved her, he’d said.
“Just a talent we have. I thought you understood if we came together, it increased your chances of becoming pregnant so much the sooner?” He winked when he said it, and she chuckled despite herself.
“I thought you were being a considerate lover.”
Torin stopped rubbing her feet. She gave him a look and he obediently began rubbing again. “I am a considerate lover,” he said, sounding affronted. “I can tie you up, if you’d like.”
She laughed at his absurdity. “No thank you. I am quite swollen enough. I just didn’t think this would happen so soon.” She worried about the lupine virus she carried. She was on anti-viral medicine to keep it from spreading, but she tended to worry about things too much. Torin knew this.
Torin smiled and leaned over her legs to kiss her belly. “All will be well, my love. I’ve given you a strong ShadeShifter warrior in your womb. Ah, see how he kicks your navel?”
She jumped and grabbed her belly, watching it move as the child romped around inside her stomach. Having a second life inside her was a strange and alien experience, but she loved it. “Why can it not be a girl?”
He arched a black eyebrow. “I said nothing of the sex, my dear warrior woman.”
“Well I’m not going to have you turn my little girl into a warrior,” she said. They’d chosen to leave the sex a surprise until she delivered. It was killing them having to wait. The debate over the sex and name was one they entered into nightly.
Torin smiled, as if he knew something she did not. “We shall see, my love. We shall see.”
The End
Other titles by Jaide Fox:
Beastmen of Shadowmere Book One: Marked by the Beast
Beastmen of Shadowmere Book Two: Seduced by the Beast
Beastmen of Shadowere Book Three: Conquered by the Beast
Pleasure Masters 1: Ravaged
Pleasure Masters 2: Dominated
Pleasure Masters 3: Mastered
Dark Lords 1: Captured by the Dark Lord
Dark Lords 2: Seized by the Vampire Lord
Dark Lords 3: Ensnared by the Dream Lord
Misadventures in Pleasure 1: PleasureBot
Misadventures in Pleasure 2: PleasureBots
Misadventures in Pleasure 3: StarCaught (Coming Soon)
Misadventures in Pleasure 4: StarRomped (Coming Soon)
Summoner’s Captive
Earth Girls Aren’t Easy
His Forbidden Fruit
Captured by Aliens 1: Alien’s Captive
Captured by Aliens 2: Alien Abduction
Here’s an excerpt from upcoming Misadventures in Pleasure 3: StarCaught:
Fridays were always hell--especially after five. Everyone wanted to get their check cashed for the weekend, and their dispositions matched the work week they’d gone through--hellacious. This Friday looked to be worse than usual. The teller’s lines stretched nearly to the door, and cars rounded the curve outside in the drive-thru lanes. The tellers were counting out bills as fast as they could.
Samantha Declan counted down the minutes, knowing she was going to have to stay late--again.
It was five minutes till closing when the man came in. Though she wasn’t familiar with all the bank’s customers, she knew the moment he ducked through the door frame that he wasn’t an account holder. As assistant manager, Samantha was instantly suspicious. Beyond the fact that he was the next thing to naked in some sort of fitted jumpsuit--exposing his chest and belly in a deep scooped neck--his mannerisms were ... off. He looked up at the ceiling, stumbling noisily over a ficus tree, righted himself, and walked staggeringly through the crowded lobby like his feet were too big for him.
“Omigod. Will you look at what just walked in! Look at the chest on that man,” Tammy whispered excitedly to Becky.
“Shhhh. Get back to work, ladies,” Samantha cut off their tittering before it could get good and started, eyeing the man with a sideways glance of appreciation despite her suspicious nature. Tall, dark, and handsome--he looked the epitome of a romance book hero. She couldn’t tell much about his face from the distance, but it didn’t look like she’d have to wait long to see him up close.
He was headed straight for her and the girls.
The man pushed his way to the front of the line amid a chorus of angry mutterings and shouts. The natives were getting restless and this man wasn’t helping matters. Samantha glared at him. She’d always hated line breakers. She debated on putting him in his place, but wanted to see what would happen.
“Hey!”
“Jerk! Wait your turn!”
“Back of the line, asshole. We were here first.”
Sam was actually amazed at how brazen they were, because normally a man of that size inspired fear in others--not daring. And he was big enough he’d squash anyone he stepped on.
He pushed in front to Tammy, who smiled up at him, ignoring her next customer. Sam gave her a warning look but Tammy ignored her.
“Can I help you, Sir?” she asked, smiling and batting her lashes.
“I need ca-ash,” he said, accentuating multiple syllables where there were none. Sam wasn’t at a good angle to see exactly what he was doing, but she watched as he pulled something out of a pouch at his side and dumped it under the short window. Tammy blinked down at it, looking confused.
She looked disappointed. “I’m sorry. Uh. You’ll need to speak to Ms. Declan. She’s right over there.”
He faced her, and looked her over like she was a piece of candy. Sam felt a wash of heat run over her at the look he ran down her body. Stupid. She looked every bit a prude--men didn’t look at her that way. Her suspicions raised again. Sam narrowed her eyes and beckoned him toward the end of the counter.
He strode cockily toward her, and she resisted rolling her eyes. He didn’t stop until his chest was inches from her nose. It was completely hairless and gleamed like he’d been oiled down. Sam blinked a few times and instinctively backed up a step, glaring up, up, up at him, immediately caught by the strange emerald hue of his eyes. He arched one brow, studying the top of her head with a quizzical look.
Sam swallowed audibly. “Can I help you?” she whispered, hooking one forefinger in her necklace as she always did when nervous.
His mouth quirked with amusement at the corners, and a dimple pierced his right cheek. “You are the first woman on this planet worthy of my attention,” he said in a husky, intimate whisper that made her tingle all over despite better judgment.
Jesus. He sounded like a fucking nut. Or just a drunk. Sam tried not to breathe too heavily, but he fairly reeked of a sweet, alcohol smell--like he’d imbibed too much
of some fruity drink. All the good looking ones always had something wrong with them. This one was probably a criminal too.
Sam cleared her throat, wanting to get on with it. “It’s almost closing time. What can I do for you?”
