Alexander stood at the head of vast hall. The men he'd known all his life stood clustered around him, all facing the center of the room. Scarcely any of them had seen fit to look at him since he'd come back home with Chris and revealed the news about his pregnancy. Almost instantly, the news had spread of his lechery, his betrayal, and Alexander had the creeping feeling that, no matter what happened from this point onward, things between him and the sleuth would never be the same again. How could he ever really expect them to be?

He looked across his room and spotted his fathers, Michael and Denis, making their way to a high seat at the head of the chamber. Neither of them looked over at him. Stepping behind in their wake were his two brothers, Nev and Theo. Theo kept his eyes forward, staring straight ahead with a professional disinterest. Nev at least cast his eyes across the expanse of the room and gave Alexander a fleeting, sympathetic look. He turned away again quickly, and Alexander felt more alone than he ever had in his life.

He jolted at the sudden clap of a hand against his shoulder, causing his heart to skip a beat. He jerked his head around and saw that Emmanuel had come up next to him, the first person in quite some time to look at him as a normal bearshifter, and not some freakish being who'd tried to join the sleuth from off the streets.

“Hey man, how are you holding up?” he asked.

Alexander shrugged. “I don't know. That pretty much depends on what happens over the next several minutes.”

“I understand,” said Emmanuel. “I mean, I know it's got to be nerve-racking. But still, I think it was brave of you.”

Alexander furrowed his brow at this. “Sorry? You do know it's Chris who's about to risk his neck fighting Jules for me, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” said Emmanuel. “And I mean, dude's got some balls. I can see why you fell for him. He's not all that hard on the eyes, either, eh Romeo?” Alexander could feel himself blushing, but he couldn't help but smile with gratitude at his friend. “But, I mean,” Emmanuel continued, “he's an alpha male, isn't he? People like him are expected to be brave. We're omegas. For one of us to rebel against what's expected of us, well...that takes a special kind of nerve.”

Alexander sighed. “I wish the rest of the sleuth saw it that way. You're pretty much the only person who's even spoken to me since I found out I was pregnant.”

Emmanuel scoffed, flinging a dismissive hand through the air. “They'll come around. Once they see how hard Chris kicks Jules's ass out there, they'll see what an asset he could be to our people. They'll get over themselves.”

Alexander doubted whether the people who'd been clinging to vestiges of their former greatness for the past several decades could really be expected to get over such a betrayal as his quite that easily. He didn't say this, though, not wanting to be too morose as Emmanuel tried to cheer him up.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Thanks for being here, man.”

Emmanuel smiled and nodded at him. “Things are going to work out. You'll see.”

At that moment, the lights of the hall dimmed, and the men around them burst into applause. Alexander felt something lurch dreadfully in the pit of his stomach as he watched the two men step out into a blinding white spotlight.

“God, I hope you're right."

The light burned against Chris' skin. He was forced to narrow his eyes just to see the space directly in front of him, and the applause of the men around him was deafening in his ears. He had the strangest feeling that every cheer, every whoop of enthusiasm being uttered was for the man walking toward him from the other side of the room. It didn't make him feel especially confident.

“Woo, go Chris!” he heard a lone voice shouting above the din, as if reading his thoughts. He could tell it belonged to Alexander's friend Emmanuel, whom he'd gotten to know slightly since the reunion with his omega. Somehow the single lonely voice made him feel even more isolated than he already had.

A loud voice boomed in his ears above all the others, amplified by a speaker system. “Welcome, men and children of the Sacred Sleuth of the Warrior Bears,” the man began and went on to introduce the fight. Chris tuned it out, not needing to hear the Sleuth's skewed version of events being repeated yet again. They always made him sound like some sort of devilish outsider, a figure so deeply unlike himself that he saw less and less resemblance to himself the more the story was repeated.

Instead of listening, he squinted up into the stands, wishing he could spot Alexander somewhere among the crowd. It was completely dark in the seating area though, the spotlight blinding him, making it all but impossible for him to distinguish individual faces. So, he turned his attention forward, focusing in on the man materializing from the darkness, coming closer and closer with every second.

And there was Jules. Naked and immaculate, his muscular, tattooed body was completely shaven and glistening in the spotlight in a way that made him seem as though he came from somewhere else, another planet entirely. His dark eyes bore into Chris' soul, and his sharp white teeth were twisted into some mix between a grimace and a sneer. Chris, an alpha male, didn't want to admit that just looking at this man made him afraid. But it did.

“There he is,” said Jules, his voice low, but somehow distinctly audible above the call of the announcer. “There's the walking dildo who thought he could take what was mine and plant his unwanted seed in the body of my fuckboy to be.”

Chris snarled at him. It was one thing for this man to talk shit to him. It was another entirely for him to talk shit about the omega he loved.

“So nice to meet you too,” he said, feigning politeness with every fiber of his being.

Jules laughed. “So formal, for a bastard who clearly has so little regard for the norms and traditions of such a great and noble sleuth.”

“I have yet to see what's so great or noble about it,” said Chris. “Anyone that puts an omega in the position Alexander was in can't possibly fall into either of those categories.”

“Maybe you're right,” said Jules with a shrug. “Now, let's see. Remind me, which sleuth was it you belonged to again? Tell me, how would your people handle a situation like the one we're in now, hm?”

Chris' hands balled into fists. He gritted his teeth at the man standing across from him and could feel his blood beginning to boil.

“Oh, that's right—they're all, fucking, dead. Extinct. You're the last of your kind, and that's why you had to come to us with your sack between your legs. Shoving your prick into the first piece of ass that came along just so you would have somewhere in the world you felt that you belonged.”

Chris snarled, straining to control his temper. “Don't you fucking talk about him that way,” he breathed through his teeth.

“And who is that?” said Jules. “Oh, you mean the slut! Of course...you know, when I first heard about him spreading his ass for you on the road, I almost thought to hell with it. I don't need some bitch like that in my life. Let the other guy have the little whore, and I'll just go find someone who's actually worth screwing. Someone...a little bit tighter.”

He began to pace, and Chris trembled, unable to restrain himself much longer. It wasn't just his words. It was the fact that Alexander had ever been chained to this man, to this fate. That he might still be, if Chris couldn't hold his own against the piece of shit now strutting around in front of him.

“But then,” Jules continued, “it occurred to me—this wasn't about me. And it sure as hell wasn't about that omega slut you decided to knock up. No. This is about honor. It's about respect. Specifically, it's about dishonor. Disrespect. The way both you and my beloved husband-to-be, decided to make a fool out of me. Of the entire group, in fact. And the more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. And the angrier it made me, the more I couldn't stop thinking about it.”

Chris could tell the announcer was getting close now, wrapping up his introduction, and he didn't think he could wait to lunge forward, and rip this son of a bitch's throat out.

“And so I decided,” Jules continued. “If I win—no...when I win—I have every intention of reclaiming Alexander as my omega. I'm taking him, I'm taking your fucking bastard child, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make their lives a living hell. I'm going to beat it into your child, and I'm going to beat it into his children. The fact that rules exist for a reason. The group only survives when men abide by those rules, and there are consequences to be paid when some cunt like you comes along and thinks he's above it all. And as bad as what I'm about to do to you is going to be, it's going to be like a walk in the park compared to how I am going to spend the rest of my life doing to that bitch and the cancer you put inside him. They're going to wish they'd never been born by the time it's all said and done. And so are you.”

Chris could no longer hold himself back. He had no idea whether the introduction had finished, and he no longer gave a damn. He couldn't stand another second of this.

He leapt through the air. His body exploded into fur and claws and teeth. Spit banded from his mouth as he let out the mother of all roars, so intense that it sent the hairs on Jules' head blowing back along his scalp. To hell with honor, he thought. He was going right for the son of a bitch's jugular vein.

He caught a last smirk flashing across Jules' face from the corner of his eye, but it was gone in a heartbeat. Jules vanished, shifting faster than Chris had ever seen a bear shift in his life. He saw, instantly, that he'd underestimated his size. He didn't know if he was larger than Chris himself, but he came awfully damn close if not.

He didn't even see what happened, but felt the rush of movement and the pain of that tremendous body slamming into his gut, wrenching his feet out from under him. His body toppled, and he was crushed beneath the dirt beneath Jules' tremendous form.

A lightning hot streak of red across his face as the claws tore through his muzzle, causing a delirious roar of pain. The crowd bursting into applause as the blood rolled down along Chris' neck. They wanted him dead, almost as much as the alpha male straddling him did.

Jules pulled his mighty paw back through the air and prepared to follow up his first hard blow with a second. Chris managed to collect himself before he got the chance. He shoved his full weight forward and bucked him off as furiously as he could. Jules nearly landed on his back but spun around fast enough to end up on all fours. Riding out his momentum, Chris plummeted into him like a rocket, tearing his jaws into the side of the bastard's neck.

The cheers of the crowd swung around into boos, but the action shifted again before the emotion could take root. Jules pulled back, struggling to free himself from Chris' teeth. But Chris could taste his blood on his tongue and was savoring it far too much to even think about letting go.

Then, in another lightning flash of movement, Jules' paw came slicing through the air. The claws raked across his face, right over the same field of cuts he'd made just moments ago. The pain was searing, and the blood flecked up into Chris' eye, making it hard to see. He tried to keep holding, but then Jules did it again, retracing the same track of flesh for a third time. The pain was too much for him.

He jerked his teeth out, roaring with agony, and Jules tried to tackle him, but Chris swatted him back with a hard wave of his paw. The bears scrambled back from one another, taking a moment to recover from their injuries, and to strategize.

They began to pace, to circle one another slowly around the perimeter of the hall. Multiple shadows danced beneath them in the spotlight, shifting across the dirt with the changing of their angles. The crowd still boomed in Chris' ears, but it was becoming like white noise to him, blending together in a way that diminished its impact.

He didn't dare take his eyes off Jules. He locked on him like he was prey, studying his every movement, trying to figure out some way, some opening, that might give him an advantage. He was just too big, too strong. He didn't think there was going to be any easy way for him to settle this. He was just going to have to see this thing through to the end, if he indeed managed to make it that far.

He was just about to dive back in again, preparing to leap at his opponent and do what he could to overtake him. But, it was like Jules could read his mind, and about a half second before he'd set a single foot forward, his opponent was racing at him, leaping across the space dividing them at a dizzying speed. All Chris could do was run back at him and meet him head on.

The two bears collided like two objects in space. Pain rippled through Chris' bones at the impact of such a sturdy projectile, and his paws skidded through the dirt beneath him. The crowd thundered with applause. He thought of Alexander and fed off the vision of his clear green eyes in his mind.

His lunged at Jules, biting at his neck. Jules snapped back at him, defying his efforts. Spittle flecked between their open mouths, and their tremendous weight pressed against one another, each alpha trying to prove himself the mightier opponent.

Hoping Jules was distracted enough not to notice, Chris jerked a paw back, and sent it hurling forward through the air. He expected a show of resistance, for Jules to block him. He was deeply surprised when his paw just kept on going, and the black talons of his claw tore into fur and flesh, ripping across the side Jules' face the same way he'd done to him. Stunned by the pain, Jules jerked his head to the side, and Chris took advantage of the angle to fling his other paw against the opposite side of his face.

Jules did not like this.

He whipped his head back through the obvious pain and charged at Chris with hatred in his eyes. Chris tried to ward him off but felt the hot flash of pain against his belly as his enemy's claws tore through his gut. Chris shot a paw back at him, struggling to ward him off, but Jules was pissed now. Another flash of claws, and a sharp pain along his neck as Jules decked him with a cruel uppercut, shredding the flesh.

The two bears fell into a steady stream of blows, tearing and biting at one another, ripping each other apart with all the force they could muster.

They tore across the ground, rolling around and around through the dirt. Jules on top, then Chris, then Jules. Their teeth snapping at one another, their claws digging into flesh. It reminded Chris, perversely, of that night in the hotel with Alexander, and this got his blood pumping hotter than ever.

Chris managed to get on top again and dragged a mean claw along the bottom of Jules' snout. Jules bit into his right flank, knocking him back with pain, but Chris knocked him free with a single slash across the face.

Jules was down. Chris was struggling back, trying to upright himself. He thought if he could get up over him he could end this. Gain the upper hand and keep Jules in his place once and for all.

He shot up with this very goal in mind, fatally neglecting the sharp pain now rushing through his twisted leg. He jerked too far to one side and nearly fell over from the agony in his limbs, redirecting his powers of concentration at remaining upright. Jules seized his opportunity.

He launched himself up through the air and slammed his full weight into Chris' body. He fell back hard on his wounded leg, unable to stop himself. He hit the ground with a devastating force, his head slamming into the dirt so hard that he temporarily blacked out.

When he opened his eyes again, he could tell he was no longer in his bear form. He was still alive though, which meant he couldn't have been out long. He listened to the crowd roaring in his ears, cheering for his downfall. Even as he shivered in his naked humanity, though, he was determined not to let this be the end of things.

He let out a low moan and strained to push himself up from the dirt. He'd just gotten his spine up off the ground when he felt the weight of a paw, slamming against his belly. Color flashed in his eyes, and he fell back to the ground. The crowd went berserk.

He rolled over onto his stomach and tried again to claw his way through the dirt—though to what ends he didn't know. But again, he felt the blow of the bear's paw, this time a hard thump against his spine, and he was surprised it didn't break his back right there on the spot.

He lay there in the dirt, his heart beating against the soil. He thought if he stayed like that, it might buy him just enough time. Just enough opportunity to recover and get back in the game. But Jules was having none of it.

His eyes widened, and he howled with pain as the bear's teeth dug into his ankle. He felt himself being torn off the ground, and flung through the air like a ragdoll in Jules' grip. He battered him against the ground, hurling him from side to side, each percussive slam of flesh against dirt more difficult to ride out than the last. Finally, Jules threw him across the air, and his body bounced and rolled across the hall, his bare body face down in the dirt, his breath short, hard and difficult as he lay struggling to stay awake.

His vision dipped. Dived. Lights on. Lights off.

He was on his back. Barely conscious. Picturing Alexander's eyes. Tasting his skin against his lips. Feeling his fur as the two of them wrestled across the hotel floor. Remembering how full he had felt. How much meaning his life had been given, during that brief and shining period, and how dreadfully he'd let down the love of his life. Unable to provide him with any of what he'd truly deserved.

Then he felt the sole of Jules' foot pressing down against his Adam's apple.

Jules, in his human form, sneered down at him. His breathing was deep, his exhaustion seeming nearly as thorough as Chris' own after having jerked him around so relentlessly for so long.

“And now, I think,” he gasped, “the lesson has been learned. By you. By Alexander. By every last shifter seated in the audience here tonight. They know now, you do not mess with the Sacred Sleuth of the Warrior Bears. Nor with its rites, nor its customs. And you sure as hell do not mess with me. You know that now, too. But, it's a little bit too late for you now, isn't it? Too late for you, and too late for Alexander.”

Chris felt his emotions surging. He felt the end drawing near, becoming imminent. He could see himself being gathered into the blackness of his dreams. Going to join the shadowy faces of all that had gone before him. His childhood friends. The grown men of his sleuth. The heads of his two fathers, welcoming him home, telling him it would be alright. Just let go.

Then he saw Alexander's face. As clear in his mind as the light of day. And he knew, as long as there was a breath in his body, he couldn't let this be the end...

Alexander stood in the crowd, gaping down at the scene unfolding below. Emmanuel's hand was gripping his shoulder, his fingers curling down hard into the flesh. He could barely see the two men past the tears in his eyes.

He knew it was all over. He knew there was no coming back for Chris, not after all that he had just endured. He'd looked into his eyes for the last time and spoken his final words to him. He couldn't even open his mouth to yell out his name, so overwhelmed was he now by emotion.

He stared down at Jules, partly with hatred and partly with resignation. He knew now, too, that his own life was over. He would be a virtual slave to the man who'd won his hand for the rest of his days.

He could go right now, he knew. He could run. He could save himself, to the extent that it was possible. He could save his son.

But he knew he wasn't going to. He'd never been strong enough for that. And he certainly wasn't strong enough now.

He watched as Jules lifted his leg up into to the air, like a dog about to take a piss. It hovered in air above Chris' neck, and a vicious instinct tore at his heart, begging him to look away. But he couldn't look away. A moment later, he was damn glad that he hadn't.

A stunned gasp rose up from the crowd. Chris' body exploded beneath Jules, ripping back into his bear form despite an abundantly clear lack of energy. Jules tumbled back, and Chris caught him by the ankle with his teeth before he made it to the ground. He tossed him through the air, just as Jules had done to him moments ago.

He slammed against the wall of the arena and hit the ground in a thick cloud of dust.

Alexander couldn't believe his eyes. The audience, apparently, couldn't believe theirs either.

Jules was picking himself up off the ground, struggling to his feet, but Chris tackled him. Slamming into him with all his weight he sank his teeth back into him, he lifted him up and rammed him into the wall, again and again, his movements so swift that Jules apparently didn't have the chance to transform and try to stop him.

Alexander's heart thundered in his temples, and his eyes ached. He still couldn't totally process this, and he was certain at any moment that things might turn around. That Jules would work up his resolve. That he would lash back out at him and finish what he'd started. But he never did.

Chris gave him another hard, angry slam against the wall, then sank his teeth into the bare, fleshy cylinder of his neck. It wasn't pretty to watch, even from this distance, as Jules' limbs jerked and twitched, the life flowing fast from his body.

Alexander choked out a deep sob, though he didn't know why. He didn't think it was sympathy exactly. He just hated that things had to come to this, even as he secretly rejoiced at the death of his revolting fiancé.

Chris continued to hold Jules pinned to the wall for moments on end, his blood visibly pouring down along its surface as the teeth sank deeper and deeper into him. At last, the twitching of his limbs stopped. Chris opened his mouth and stepped back. Jules fell limply to the ground, not a trace of life to be found in him.

The crowd stood, gaping down, in complete, astonished silence.

The remaining bear just stood there, panting, seeming to need to wind down from what he’d just accomplished. He trudged away from where Jules lay, over to the center of the arena. He craned his neck up and somehow managed to pinpoint the exact spot where Alexander was sitting.

The omega felt his heart stop. His entire life up to now seemed to have led him to this very moment.

Chris stared at him with those cool gray eyes, for as long as it seemed he possibly could. Then he collapsed. His belly flopped to the ground, and he looked like he might be dead. Then he shrank down, returning to his human form, and Alexander knew that he'd survived.

His eyes still streamed with emotion, but the broadest of grins spread across his face.

It was over. It was finally, truly over. And the rest of his life with Chris was only just beginning.