Wildcat Springs, Texas

"How the hell did this happen?" Justin demanded later that evening. "Paul Katzenberg was supposed be rotting in some Montana jail until his trial. With all those charges against him, how the fuck did he manage to get a judge to agree to post bail?"

He, Jim de León, and Jim's mate Natalie were sitting at a table at the Wildcat Springs Tavern.

Jim was a big, bearded man the same age as Justin, and the two of them had been friends since high school.

Natalie was a lithe, dark-haired shifter who was originally from the La Brea Pride in California. She had come to Wildcat Springs over twenty years ago when she and Jim had been matched in an arranged mating, but the two of them had soon fallen in love and become true mates.

After Justin had deplaned at the airport, he'd called Jim and arranged to meet up at the Wildcat Springs Tavern to discuss the situation. Justin had closed his restaurant before heading to Cassie's wedding and had given his staff a paid vacation, so it was the perfect place for a private conversation.

Jim shrugged wearily. "I guess Bob is worth every penny the pride pays him. I mean, he managed to get Paul and Alfonzo out of the clutches of that coyote clan in Utah a few weeks ago."

"I know," growled Justin. He'd heard all about that incident from Cassie.

Katzenberg and Tigredientes had been arrested in Utah for their first attempt to abduct Cassie. Thanks to Bob Saebel, the New Braunfels Pride's attorney, the two of them had somehow managed to get out of jail in time to participate in a second kidnapping attempt on the eve of Cassie's wedding.

Saebel was a sabertooth shifter, originally from the Kisatchie Pride in Louisiana, who'd been hired by the New Braunfels Pride right out of law school. Justin supposed Saebel had gotten a lot of experience in cleaning up Baldwin's messes in the years since then.

"And Bob probably thinks that Paul is a shoo-in for Pride First, now that Baldwin and the others are out of the way," Natalie added. She looked Justin up and down. "You sure you really want to do this, Justin? Paul won't just be going for first blood. He's going to want to make an example out of you."

"I know," Justin said grimly. "And y'all know that I need to make an example out of him."

Jim clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, Justin!"

Justin looked sourly at his old friend.

"This one-on-one duel business is stupid," he said, giving voice to his deepest frustration. "No one around here actually wants Katzenberg to become Pride First. He'd be every bit as bad as Baldwin ever was. We should all just join together and force him to leave town."

Both Jim and Natalie looked shocked to the core at Justin's suggestion.

"But he challenged you!" Jim said finally. "You know we can't interfere with that!"

"Sure you could," Justin responded, feeling ornery.

"And break tradition?" Natalie asked, horrified. "The rest of the pride would exile us!"

The look on her face changed to pity. She reached across the table and touched the back of Justin's hand. "Justin, no one would think the less of you if you want to forfeit the duel."

Justin felt his lip rise in a snarl. "You think I'm afraid of that rat bastard? That I'm trying to get out of this because I'm a coward?"

"We're all afraid of Paul," Jim said bluntly as Natalie nodded. "That's why he was Pride Fifth and one of Baldwin's enforcers. There's no shame in conceding. At least this way, you'll get to live."

Justin looked at the hand-written challenge sitting on the table, feeling sick with mingled fear and rage. Katzenberg had been one of the shifters who had tortured him.

He shook his head. "Not for long. Not after what I did to his pal Tigredientes. If Paul Katzenberg becomes Pride First, I can guarantee you that it won't take long before I have some kind of accident or just plain disappear."

If Katzenberg became Pride First, who knew what else he might do to the members of the New Braunfels Pride…or to the Ordinary citizens of Wildcat Springs?

Jim shoved his chair back and stood up.

"It's getting late," he said, signaling that the conversation was over. "And you need to rest up before the duel." He stuck out his hand, and Justin took it. Jim's strong fingers squeezed his. "Good luck, Justin. You know we're all rooting for you to win tomorrow."

"Thanks," Justin said. "I sure do appreciate that."

They might be rooting for me, but they sure as hell aren't going to help me. I'm on my own.

Natalie hugged him, and then his friends left.

* * *

Justin knew it was going to be a long, sleepless night. Part of it was nerves for the duel scheduled for the next morning.

But it was mostly the lack of Elle in his bed.

Just one night together, and she's ruined me for sleepin' alone, he thought wryly.

He tossed and turned but it was useless, not with his mind ricocheting between sensual memories of his short time together with Elle and efforts to come up with a strategy for the duel.

Saying good-bye to her at the airport this afternoon had been bad. Worse than he'd imagined, and her expression and her scent had told him that she felt the same way.

It was close to two in the morning when Justin flopped onto his back and stared up at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom in defeat. Sleep wasn't coming.

He contemplated getting out of bed and pouring himself a whiskey. He desperately needed to turn off his racing brain and get some sleep, or he'd be a sitting duck for Katzenberg tomorrow morning.

A soft creak that sounded like something heavy had just stepped up on his porch, followed by the sound of his front door opening, brought Justin to full alertness.

Someone had just entered his home!

He hadn't locked his door. No one ever did around here, in a small town where everyone knew everyone else.

Who could possibly be stupid enough to try and burgle the house of a shifter? Justin wondered.

Soundlessly, he climbed out of his bed and crept to the doorway of his bedroom, staying low to avoid warning his prey. He'd worn a pair of loose boxer shorts and an old T-shirt to bed, both dark-colored.

Like most cats, Justin could see in the dark where Ordinary humans couldn't.

This is going to be one unlucky burglar, he thought.

He was halfway down the hallway when he scented Katzenberg.

Here. In his house.

Mingled rage and terror flooded Justin's system, along with all-too-vivid memories of the pride enforcers pinning him down in his own living room while they tried to torture Cassie's location out of him.

Then it hit him: Katzenberg had never intended to duel Justin fair and square.

When morning came, Katzenberg would be on the dueling ground, all right. But Justin would never show up.

Justin could picture it now. Katzenberg would wait a decent interval, until it was clear that his opponent wasn't coming. Then he'd probably tell everyone that Justin had run rather than face his superior in a challenge duel.

After all, he's the 'Fraidy Cat's daddy, ain't he?

Justin felt his rage run like molten lava through his veins, burning away the old fear.

If Katzenberg wants to play dirty…well, he's in my home and on my turf.

Justin's house was a big one-story ranch house built from local limestone, with a wraparound roofed porch. A Great Room dominated the center of the house, with the master bedroom, master bath, and study accessed from one side of the Great Room. On the other side of the house, a hall led to a smaller family room, another full bathroom, and two smaller bedrooms.

From the sounds that Justin was hearing, Katzenberg had headed straight to the master suite. He was apparently unaware that Justin had moved out of there after Liza died and turned that side of the house into a guest suite.

At Cassie's request, Justin had moved into the spare bedroom next to his daughter's room. Though he had initially done it to comfort her in the aftermath of losing her mother, he found that her presence had helped alleviate some of the dreadful loneliness in his soul.

Once Cassie had moved out to attend the University of Texas in Austin, Justin had stayed put where he was.

And that might just have saved his life.

Justin's next thought was to call Jim and Natalie for backup. This wasn't the dueling ground, so he could use whatever weapons and allies he could scrounge up.

He paused in the hallway, looked around, and cursed silently as he realized that his cellphone was out of reach, sitting on the top of the island that separated his kitchen from the rest of the Great Room.

And if Katzenberg had ever watched a single horror movie in his life, he had cut the house's landline before breaking in.

Even if he hadn't, there were only two landline phones in the house—in the Great Room, on the kitchen side, and in the guest suite.

Justin was on his own. And with the enemy already inside his house, he wouldn't have time to shift before Katzenberg found him.

Katzenberg had entered Justin's home on four paws. Which meant he'd stopped to shift before entering the house.

Shit. So much for fighting man-to-man. Or catching Katzenberg mid-shift, when he'd be practically helpless.

Justin futilely wished for the ability to shift as quickly and painlessly as he'd seen Elle do.

But a sabertooth's shift took minutes rather than seconds, and he couldn't afford to have Katzenberg find him when he was trapped between his two shapes.

Justin paused to consider his options.

Why? Why do it like this, instead of battling me in front of the assembled pride and winning a decisive victory with lots of witnesses?

After all, the other shifter hadn't achieved the rank of Pride Fifth without winning a lot of challenge duels.

On the other hand, this might be also be personal. Katzenberg's mate had died in the van crash that Cassie had caused, and Justin had killed Katzenberg's best friend.

If Katzenberg was targeting Justin for vengeance as well as power over the pride, then what would he do to Cassie if he became Pride First, with access to all the pride's resources?

The thought made Justin's blood run cold.

He crept forward, using every hunting skill he'd picked up in his years to move silently out of the hallway and into the Great Room.

There, he crouched behind one of the sofas and considered his options.

He owned guns, of course. Which were safely stored in a gun safe in his garage on the other side of the house.

Justin enjoyed target shooting from time to time, and he'd inherited his great-great-great grandfather's Civil War era Springfield rifle. But as a sabertooth shifter, he preferred to hunt on four feet, using only the weapons that Nature had given him.

What else do I have?

His gaze fell on his kitchen, tucked away in one corner of the Great Room. Next to the silhouettes of the basket of fruit and the toaster on the long granite counter, he spotted his knife block.

A set of kitchen knives weren't much of a weapon against a huge sabertooth cat, but they would be better than nothing. He had to get to it.

Justin was gathering himself for a dash across the wide open space when he saw a long, shaggy shape emerge from the doorway leading from the master suite, on the same side of the Great Room as the kitchen.

A fresh wave of scent filled the room, and Justin fought to keep from growling at the presence of an intruder in his home.

The house was dark, but enough moonlight filtered through the large windows to allow Justin to see clearly with his shifter-enhanced night vision.

Of course, that meant his opponent would be able to see him as well, once Justin left cover.

As Katzenberg slunk silently into the Great Room, Justin noticed that the big cat was limping. He was favoring one of his forelegs and moving stiffly.

Hope rose in him as he realized that Katzenberg had not healed completely from the injuries incurred a week ago, when Thor Swanson had nearly torn off Katzenberg's arm during the struggle that followed the van crash.

So that's why Katzenberg decided to do this! It was the only way he could ensure that he couldn't lose the challenge duel.

Justin's relief at finding the invader partly crippled was short-lived.

Katzenberg was now blocking Justin's path to the kitchen and those precious knives.

Justin had to think fast. If he could smell Katzenberg, then the same was true of his opponent, though the presence of Justin's scent in every corner of his house might blur things a little.

He only had a few short moments of surprise left before Katzenberg's keen senses homed in on his prey.

Justin launched himself over his couch with a roar.

He landed in front of Katzenberg and took advantage of the cat's momentary surprise by grabbing a nearby end table and heaving it at Katzenberg's head.

The big sabertooth cat dodged backwards, but instead of retreating as Justin had hoped, he leaped forward, easily clearing the obstacle in his path as he aimed for Justin.

Justin flung himself out of the way and rolled to his feet.

Unfortunately, even with a limp, Katzenberg still moved lightning-fast.

Intense burning pain consumed Justin's left leg as one paw, talons gleaming in the faint light, raked down his thigh and calf.

But even trapped in man-shape, Justin was much stronger than any Ordinary. He grabbed for the nearest piece of furniture and heaved a heavy sofa up and over the sabertooth cat, trapping it beneath.

Then, his leg on fire but thankfully still functional, he sprinted for the kitchen. He vaulted onto the wide, granite-topped island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the Great Room and slid across the polished stone surface.

Behind him, Katzenberg roared with rage.

Justin grabbed for the big butcher knife, then tore open the door of the cupboard above the knife block. Overstressed hinges groaned and the heavy wood-and-glass door came away in his hand.

His fingers scrabbled for the restaurant-sized container of cayenne pepper he knew was inside.

Then, hearing an ominous silence behind him, he spun on his heel and barely managed to raise the cupboard door in time to shield himself from Katzenberg's lunge over the island.

Justin heaved with all his strength as Katzenberg's forepaws hit the door, and used the huge cat's momentum against him.

The sabertooth cat went crashing sideways onto the wide granite counter amidst the clatter and squelch of flying salt and pepper shakers, fruit, napkin holders, and a large jar of cooking spoons and spatulas, which clattered loudly to the floor.

Justin snatched the square metal spice canister out of the cupboard, tore the lid off, and flung the contents in Katzenberg's face.

Then he ran like hell for cover as his enemy yowled in agony.

But the cayenne pepper hadn't incapacitated Katzenberg as Justin hoped. The sabertooth cat came roaring after him almost immediately.

In two long bounds, he cut Justin off from his retreat to the hallway, leaving him exposed in the middle of the Great Room, where he was easy prey.

The huge cat didn't hesitate to rush Justin, forepaws extended.

Judging by the tears streaming from his tightly shut eyes, Katzenberg was at least partially blinded by the pepper. But instead of slowing him down, it only seemed to motivate him to catch and kill Justin.

Shit, shit, shit!

Justin snatched up the coffee table with his free hand and swung it at Katzenberg's face with all his strength. It was made of a decorative but light wood, so Justin knew it wouldn't inflict a crushing blow on Katzenberg's skull or bones.

All he could hope for was to shatter the cat's sharp but brittle saber-like canines.

Katzenberg's head snapped back at the impact, and he yowled again. He dropped to the carpet and pawed at his mouth.

One oversized canine was just a stump now, and it apparently hurt like hell.

Good.

Justin took advantage of the big cat's temporary distraction to rush in and plunge his butcher knife into Katzenberg's side.

It didn't have the effect he intended. Instead of disabling the sabertooth, the wound only seemed to enrage him.

In an instant, the huge cat lunged upwards and hit Justin with one big shoulder.

Justin fell backwards and landed on his ass.

Instantly, Katzenberg's giant paw pinned him to the carpet, his talons sinking deep into the muscles of Justin's chest.

The huge head swung around, and Justin knew that only seconds separated him from being fatally impaled through the throat or belly by Katzenberg's remaining fang.

By some miracle, Justin had managed to keep his grip on his knife. He slashed frantically at Katzenberg's forepaws and legs, trying to penetrate the thick fur to sever muscle and tendons as the big head loomed over him.

He felt his knife bite deep into the foreleg pinning him, and Katzenberg leaped backwards, snarling.

Relieved of the imprisoning weight on his chest, Justin rolled to his feet, crouching with his knife at the ready.

He was gasping for air, his chest felt like it was on fire, and he felt a sharp pain stabbing into his right side.

Must have cracked a rib. Ain't that just great?

His shredded T-shirt was clinging to him, sticky and sodden with blood. That much bleeding wasn't a good sign, not when Katzenberg had torn open his leg, too.

Before Justin could worry too much about blood loss, Katzenberg lunged at him again, his mouth open and displaying all of his sharp fangs…and one splintered stump.

Justin barely managed to sidestep the charge. Then he launched himself desperately at the huge cat's back.

If stabbing Katzenberg hadn't worked, then his only hope now was to sever a major artery.

Katzenberg twisted, snarling, and Justin tumbled down to his living room floor.

He had barely managed to regain his feet when the sabertooth cat swiped at him with a giant paw. His hooked talons ripped through Justin's T-shirt and the flesh underneath, leaving a fresh set of deep gashes over the older scars.

Justin cried out and staggered but managed to stay on his feet…just barely.

He gulped for air and knew the end was drawing near. His knees were beginning to shake with strain and fatigue, and he could feel his strength bleeding away through the deep wounds Katzenberg had inflicted.

Either Justin ended this quickly, or he was going to end up dead.

Not in my house. Not on my watch!

Almost without thinking, he bent and grabbed one of Liza's heavy vases from where it had fallen when Justin upended the coffee table.

He hurled the vase at the sabertooth cat's head with all his remaining strength and heard the thudding impact of the heavy lead crystal container against Katzenberg's skull.

The cat staggered, and Justin seized his opportunity.

Knowing that this was his last chance before he grew too weak and dizzy from blood loss, he threw himself forward.

He landed squarely on top of Katzenberg's back and thrust the butcher knife into his opponent's neck, forcing the blade down through the thick mane and into the flesh beneath as deeply as he could.

As the huge cat twisted and snarled beneath him, trying to throw him off, Justin felt hot blood spurting over his hand and arm.

Did I do it?

He wasn't sure. It sure felt like a lot of blood, but Katzenberg seemed as powerful and angry as ever.

And Justin was dangerously tired, his injuries burning, his muscles feeling more and more like soggy spaghetti by the second and every joint screaming with the abuse of having been thrown around like a rag doll.

He clung to Katzenberg's thick mane and knew that it was only a matter of time before the cat managed to dislodge him.

And then Justin would be dead, torn open and left to bleed out on his own living room floor.

He was trying to resign himself to his failure when abruptly Katzenberg's roar of rage mutated into a strange gurgle. The cat coughed, his body shuddering, then he just…collapsed.

Justin released his hold on Katzenberg's mane, rose shakily to his feet, and staggered a few steps away.

There he waited, panting, not sure if it was a trick. He strained his ears and heard a long exhale, followed by Katzenberg's heart sputtering to a stop.

And then…nothing.

Except for the distant sound of a shrilling cicada outside, and the sound of Justin's rasping breaths, the house was silent.

Justin stood there for a few moments longer, unable to believe that it was really over. And that he had actually survived.

He limped over to the wall and flipped on the lights.

A scene of devastation greeted him. It looked like a tornado had touched down in his living room. Furniture and knickknacks lay overturned and scattered everywhere.

And then there was the blood. Justin's bloody footprints crisscrossed the carpet and the kitchen's pale gray floor tiles. There were innumerable drips and dribbles of blood on the formerly white carpet all around the Great Room, making it resemble a gory work of abstract art.

And in the middle of the room, a huge scarlet puddle of blood pooled on the saturated carpet underneath the corpse of a huge sabertooth cat.

Justin just stood there in the middle of his destroyed living room. It was hard to believe that he had actually beaten Katzenberg while in man-shape.

And now he was Pride First. He tried to summon a sense of triumph, but all he felt was fatigue.

After a while, he made his way over to his smartphone, which had miraculously survived the fight.

He called Jim's number and heard him answer the phone in a voice thick with sleep. "Justin, you had better be on death's door."

"Close to it," Justin managed find the strength for a chuckle. It was hard work even holding the phone up to his ear. "Katzenberg just tried to ambush me here at home. He's dead."

"What?" Jim suddenly sounded fully awake. "And good riddance to that son-of-a-bitch! I was wondering if he'd try some dirty trick." He paused as Natalie asked him what was going on. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I could use a house call," Justin admitted, collapsing onto one of the bar height chairs pulled up to the island. He glanced down at his leg, which was bleeding steadily onto the tile below and then at the shredded remains of his T-shirt. "I think I'm going to need a few stitches."

"I'll be right over with my kit," Jim assured him and ended the call.

Justin carefully put his phone down, then cradled his head in his hands. His brush with death just now had made several things clear to him.

I don't want to be Pride First, he thought. I want to go to Bearpaw Ridge and be with Elle.

But what about his duty to the New Braunfels Pride?

After all of this, he couldn't just abandon them to the next challenger who came along to claim Pride First. But he couldn't rule the pride long-distance, either.

Justin sighed, feeling a hundred years old.

He needed to find another way, something that would keep the people he cared about here safe, while still making it possible for him to claim Elle as his mate and to live with her in Bearpaw Ridge.

It seemed impossible. Or was it?