Chapter 2
Axtyn listened to Wallace ranting at Ian early Sunday morning after the male finally answered his cell. Wallace had been furious that Ian hadn’t shown up, and from what Axtyn could overhear of the conversation, the male wasn’t planning to come back at all because he’d found his mate.
Which was good for him, but bad for Wallace and the fights.
Axtyn wondered if Ian knew how volatile Wallace was. He not only had a hair trigger himself, he had a squad of shifter guards who would do anything he asked. Axtyn was one of the guards, but he wouldn’t do anything to harm a male who was simply following his destiny.
“Fucking asshole!” Wallace shouted when he ended the call. “Who does he think he is?”
“What do you want us to do?” Stan asked, keeping his distance from Wallace, who was known to take out his rage on the nearest person.
While Wallace discussed how to force Ian’s hand, his cell rang. Ian promised to fight once more and to give up all his winnings, in exchange for being free from future fights. Wallace agreed, but Axtyn could see that the male wasn’t telling the truth. As soon as the call ended, Wallace got to work planning fights for the following Friday.
“Here’s what will happen,” he said, looking at Axtyn. “I’m going to set him up with a lot of fights, make a shit-ton of money off him, and then I’m going to force him to continue to fight for me.”
“How will you do that?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.”
“You could just let him be done. There are other fighters.”
“He’s the best.”
Axtyn knew that Wallace wouldn’t be reasoned with. He wanted Ian to continue to fight for him, and it was just the hyena’s bad luck to be on Wallace’s radar. Whatever Wallace was planning, it wouldn’t be good news for the male.
When the warehouse was empty and Wallace and his guards had headed off to their private quarters, Axtyn followed suit and went to his room. The room, which he’d called home for more years than he cared to count, was sparsely decorated, but it was comfortable enough for him. The sturdy bed supported his big frame, and the attached bathroom ensured his privacy, which he always appreciated after being surrounded by so many people during the fights.
After showering off the stink of the fights, he climbed into bed, his skin feeling too tight and his beast bellowing in his mind. There it was again – that slim feeling of hope that he might find his mate soon, mixed up with the devastating certainty that he was going to turn into a monster forever.
Closing his eyes, he tuned out his beast, and thought of everything but how strange he felt as sleep took over. He dreamed that night about a beautiful female with white-blonde hair. She had blue eyes flecked with gold, and she smelled like snow. In the dream, they met in the warehouse where the boxing rings were, and he’d been compelled to kiss her and hold her. Even in his dreams, the kiss had rocked him to the core, and he hadn’t wanted it to end. But it had, far too abruptly.
He woke up, his heart pounding and his beast banging in his skull to find her. Whoever she was. Wherever she was. He didn’t know how he’d find her, but he knew with absolute certainty that she was his mate, his one hope for not becoming a monster. He lifted his arm and looked at the tattoo on the inside of his right forearm. The symbols were from the ancient Greek language of the minotaurs, and were part of his family’s creed: loyalty, honesty, bravery.
He decided that when he found his mate, he’d add to the tattoo: family and love.
If only he knew where to look for her.
* * *
The following Friday night, Axtyn took a moment to warn Ian about the fights. Wallace had heavily promoted them, and the free-for-all was going to be no holds barred, including partial shifting.
“Why are you telling me this?” Ian asked, eyeing him speculatively.
Axtyn could feel his beast bellowing inside. His chest ached over his heart, and he rubbed the spot with his fingers. He hadn’t felt right since he’d dreamed about his mate. He hoped the dream meant he’d find her soon, but the pessimistic side of him was certain the clock was running out. Soon he’d be a monster forever.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
Ian thanked him for the advice, and Axtyn went to find Wallace and take up his position as guard. Although he could do his job, he felt oddly detached from things, and he knew it was because of the dream. He’d spent every available moment looking for his mate, but he had no idea how to find her. Because he didn’t have a car, he’d borrowed one and simply driven around, hoping to get a feeling that she was near. Since she’d been in the warehouse, he’d hoped she might show up at one of the fights, even though he didn’t want her anywhere near the place, with its violence and out-of-control-males.
He scanned the crowd as the final battle commenced, but didn’t see his white-haired mate. He cursed himself, not for the first time, for not asking in the dream where she was or what her name was. If he hadn’t been so consumed with getting a kiss from her, he would have asked for her address.
When the free-for-all was over and Ian was the victor, Wallace went into the ring and lifted Ian’s hand to the cheering crowd. Axtyn stared at Ian. He felt a strange connection panging between them.
Did Ian know his mate?
The crowd surged, and Axtyn lost sight of Ian and the brother who had accompanied him. He raced to the parking lot, but didn’t see either male. When he returned inside, Wallace was behind locked doors and wouldn’t see him, and none of the guards knew where Ian lived. After waiting for hours to talk to him with no success, Axtyn went to bed. When he woke, he was faced with the same situation: Wallace wasn’t seeing anyone, which left him with no way to find Ian and inquire about a white-haired female.