Maia Dylan

 

Copyright © 2017

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Demon Kane watched his opponent step sideways, and he countered it with a move of his own. Both men bled from various wounds. The swell of dominance that filled the cage they fought in told him that their animals drifted close to the surface. But Demon had a distinct advantage over the wolf shifter he faced off against.  His animal was calmest, and his control over the beast never stronger than when he was fighting, no matter what form he took to do it.

“How does it feel knowing you are the last of your crew?” the wolf shifter said in a garbled voice, another sign his wolf pushed forward.

Demon remained quiet. The wolf wasn’t the first to try to goad him into making a mistake.

“When I end you, pig,” the wolf spat, “I’ll be fucking famous. I will go down in history as the man who killed the legendary Razorback Demon.”

Again Demon refused to rise to the taunt, simply tracking him as he moved around the cage. The wolf was tiring. Hell, if truth be told, Demon was feeling pretty fucking tired himself, but the wolf’s fatigue fueled his frustration, and that meant it would only be a matter of time.

Demon saw when the wolf tensed as he prepared to move to strike out at him, and stepped in to counter it. They came together in a flurry of punches and roundhouse kicks that whipped the crowd into a frenzy. As sick as it might sound to many, Demon thrived on the crowd’s reaction to the fight. He enjoyed the roars of approval when his opponent scored a direct hit, but he lived for their groans of disappointment when he inevitably fought back.

Demon was lost in the fierce dance of battle, watching and countering the moves of the wolf. He felt each blow that connected, but as if from a distance. His beast wallowed in the pain and reveled in the scent of blood filling the arena. This was what they lived for. Razorbacks were a vicious breed, thriving on violence, and Demon was the worst of them all. He had nothing to lose when he stepped into the ring.

He saw the wolf’s left foot slip in the blood that pooled on the floor of the cage. Inside, his beast roared with triumph, knowing that victory was within his grasp. Demon inhaled, readying himself to step in and strike, using the side of his right hand to crush the wolf’s windpipe. This would give Demon the seconds he would need to step quickly behind his opponent, and snap his neck. But the scent he drew in gave him pause.

Mate.

He knew it as soon as he scented her. The one woman the Fates had destined would be his was here in the arena. His heart sank even as it began to pound in anticipation. He had never expected to meet his mate. Never wanted to curse a woman with who he was as a man, let alone the beast that lived within him. He had lived his life believing that surely the Fates wouldn’t be so cruel as to tie a woman to him, and yet here she was.

His opponent forgotten, he turned to search the crowd through the electrified mesh of the cage walls. It was a Friday night and the place was packed with shifters and humans alike, all here to watch two men rip each other apart all in the name of entertainment. His gaze slid across the faces in the crowd with a desperation he had never felt before. He knew he would recognize his mate the moment he saw her. He—

Demon grunted as pain exploded in his right side. He dropped to the left out of instinct and avoided the elbow the wolf bastard aimed at his temple by mere millimeters. He went with his own momentum and dove to the ground, rolling over his shoulder to come back to his feet. For the first time in his life, his beast was roaring for him to forget the fight. He demanded that Demon rip the cage open and tear the crowd apart until their mate stood before them. He had always found it difficult to control the beast, but with the prospect of finding their mate, it was damn near impossible.

Against his will, his attention slipped back to the audience, scanning as he went. His gaze slid past the crowd near the entrance to the arena. There was a flash of brilliant green that caught his eye, and his gaze locked with the most alluring female he had ever seen.

Her hair was jet black, falling straight from a central part at the top of her head. He had no idea how long her hair was because the crowd blocked a lot of her from view. Her light mocha-colored skin was flawless, but it was her unusual eyes that caught his attention. And although the color was unique and beyond beautiful, it was the horror and fear he saw shimmering there that held him captive.

Those stunning, expressive eyes widened as he stared at her, and he watched her mouth move as she yelled for him to “look out”, but he was too caught up in her beauty to comply completely. He did manage to tense and took some of the momentum of the kick that came his way with his arm. He didn’t stop it completely and Demon crumpled to his knees as the boot he took cracked a couple more of his ribs and the pain stole whatever air he had left in his body. He grunted as he fell forward onto his hands, but his gaze remained steady on his mate. He saw the man he hadn’t noticed standing behind her reach up to grip her hair from behind and wrench her head back against his shoulder. Despite the roar of pleasure from the crowd at his misfortune, he was certain he heard her cry out in pain.

All pain fled beneath the heat of his wrath, and he pushed to his feet. His woman was being mistreated, and nothing and no one was going to keep him from getting to her. Not the crowd, not the damn electric fence, and sure as fuck not the asshole who stood before him with a smirk on his face. His beast bellowed within him as a red haze of rage fell across his vision and Demon gave himself over to its fury.