9. Terra

The whole plan takes almost a month to come to fruition.

First, we have to loop Ember in. That in itself is kind of an ordeal, because she's not exactly the world's most trusting person. After almost getting into a fight with Chet, though, Ember is on board with the plan.

The hardest part is the month that Rylan and I spend apart. The second hardest part is lying to my mom.

She, as usual, thinks that nothing is wrong. She knows that Rylan broke my heart a second time, and if she suspects anything else, she doesn't say it.

As the date nears, Rylan leaves a burner phone for me in the little Airstream trailer where I last saw him. We both know the risks. He confirms that Chet's been at the Denver fight ring, betting against Rylan every chance he gets.

Ember's part in this is just beginning.

Rylan isn't there to fight. He's there to hype her up. Spread the word of a female fighter that can't be beaten. Until the bait is too good for Chet to pass up.

On the third week, I get a text from Rylan. It contains four words.

I love you. Go.

It's time.

I sprint down to the alpha's house, dodging other wolves as I go. I knock on the door, slamming my fist against it.

Do I feel bad tricking the alpha? No.

He wanted proof. So proof, he shall have.

When Iris answers the door, I'm distraught. "I need Thorne," I say.

Iris nods, and Thorne walks to the door. "Terra," he rumbles. "What?—"

"It's Ember!" I gasp.

As one of our only shifter healthcare professionals, Ember is a pretty big deal in the Oakwood pack. It's something we relied on to make this whole thing work.

Thorne goes still. "What about her."

"She's been kidnapped, Thorne! They called me! They're putting her in that ring tonight!"

"Which one?"

"Denver," I gasp.

It's a four-hour drive. We'll make it just in time for the title fight, where the Black Widow is set to take down an old champion…

The War Wolf.

Thorne nods. "Show me the way," he grunts. He grabs his phone and barks some orders to Evander, then follows me.

Step one: accomplished.

In Denver,I follow the directions that have been ‘texted' to my phone. In reality, I have them memorized, but no one has to know that. It doesn't matter. Not really.

Because once we get to the abandoned warehouse, it's clear as day that something is up.

There's a crowd. Not just a small crowd… there is a freaking huge crowd waiting to get in. I gulp.

I didn't expect this.

Thorne, however, pushes right by everyone. "One of my pack members is up there tonight," he growls at the bouncer.

"There are no packs here," the bouncer responds.

"Let me into this fucking place, or I'll rip your face off and feed it to your kids," Thorne growls.

Okay. That gave me chills.

It's just enough to remind me that Thorne is actually not to be fucked with. For a split second, I doubt this whole plan. Then I follow him into the mass of people that are currently seething to get into the warehouse.

I've never seen so many supernaturals in one place. There's so much magic in the air, it makes my nose itch. I don't notice a ton of other shifters, which probably isn't a good sign.

"Stay close," Thorne mutters.

"The ransom note said she'd be on the main stage," I whisper.

Thorne nods, then heads forward with a suspiciously confident stride. It seems like he certainly knows exactly where he's going.

As we push through, I can see that there's a central area that's full of more people than anywhere else. The crowd is thronged around a rusty chain link fence. Inside the fence, there's a sand arena that's about the size of a fifteen-foot square, and it's set lower than the seats by about ten feet. The chain links extend up, but if you stand at the edge, you'd look down into the pit.

I get closer.

Ember's on one side. On the other is an unfamiliar shape. I know that it's Rylan, but it still seems odd that he's sitting on some kind of a bench or chair with a cloak on.

I look for the bookie. That's who we need to see. The bookie, and Chet placing the bet, is the evidence we need.

I see Chet's smarmy face.

Great. I have to get over there.

My brain stutters as I try to process a way that I'm going to get over to Chet, but then I realize something. We don't need anything more than this.

Rylan is going to get Ember out of here. This isn't a fight to the death, but it's a fight that I don't want her in.

Despite the fact that she's oddly interested in proving herself.

So, instead of subtly trying to point Thorne in the direction of Chet and the bookie, I just point.

"Alpha. That's Chet!" I gasp.

Thorne's head whips around. Chet's whispering in the bookie's ear, and he holds out his hand…

Which contains a huge wad of cash.

Got you, asshole.

The noise that comes out of Thorne is pure rage. "Wait here," he snarls.

He stomps for Chet.

The look on Chet's face when Thorne catches him… there's nothing like it. He's so done.

Thorne and Chet start to argue, and I drift over to the cage.

We did it. It's done.

Time to fake a fight between Rylan and Ember and?—

"Terra."

I spin. Rylan's right behind me, his hand on my shoulder.

My heart skips.

"Rylan?"

His eyes are wide. "Terra, we have to get Ember out of here, we have to?—"

The announcer blares over him. "And now, ladies and gremlins, what you've all been waiting for! Tonight, we have the Black Widow, and a surprise mix-up on the title card… all the way from Australia, the Thresher!"

My eyes widen. "Who is the Thresher?"

Rylan shakes his head. "I've met him before. He's a shifter. Maybe. But I've never seen him shift. He's…" He looks at me.

Oh, no.

I don't like that look. Not at all.

"Terra," he says, gripping my shoulders. "I love you."

"Ry."

He says it like he's never going to say it again.

Rylan leans in. "Never forget that I love you," he murmurs.

Before I can respond, he's gone.

My stomach sinks. I push past Thorne, who currently has Chet in a headlock, and press my fingers against the side of the cage.

Ember glances at the little gate that's behind her. Two men come out and grab her, and she tosses off their hands before she follows them, a confused look on her face.

There's a heartbeat of time where the crowd murmurs with anticipation.

Then, a familiar shape emerges from the gloom.

"No," I whisper.

It's Rylan.

"Yet another last-minute change!" the announcer blares. "Today, we have a fan favorite. The War Wolf couldn't let Thresher take this one, it seems! Old grudges die hard. We all remember the last time these two met, don't we!"

The crowd roars its approval, and my heart sinks. I turn to one of the people next to me. "What happened the last time they met?"

"It was awesome," the guy trills. "Thresher almost ripped War Wolf's guts out!"

The scar.

"Oh," I say weakly.

Inside the arena, Rylan shrugs off the sweatshirt he had on. He stretches, his muscles rolling, but Thresher stands, too, and…

Holy shit. He's huge.

There's no way that this guy is even remotely human. He stands somewhere about eight feet tall, and his body is covered in skin that's a dull green hue. If I look closely, I can almost see the pattern of scales…

My eyes widen. I know what kind of scales those are.

He's a saltwater crocodile shifter.

Most mammals shift seamlessly between a human and animal form. Most reptiles do not.

As humans, they still carry some kind of reptilian features. I'd heard rumors, but I never actually knew that it looked like this until now.

The announcer screams something else, the crowd jumps to their feet, and then the two people in the ring circle each other.

My heart is in my throat.

"Terra!"

Ember appears at my side. I pull her in close for a hug. "Ember," I say, my eyes glued on the ring below me. "What the hell is going on?"

"Rylan told me that he didn't want me to get hurt. I could take that guy, Ter, I just know it," she growls.

Shoving my best friend's god complex aside, I shake my head. "Rylan beat him once, he can do it again, right?"

Thresher and Rylan crash on the arena below us…

And Rylan is immediately thrown against the side of the cage.

The crowd around us screams with delight, but my eyes widen. "Ember, was that supposed to happen?"

"I don't know. I feel like sure, he's strong, but I didn't know that he was that strong. Rylan's a pretty good fighter…"

The crocodile shifter circles Rylan and delivers a blow to the stomach that sends Rylan reeling over the edge.

"That's not right," I whisper.

Rylan struggles to get up, and I note the way his legs shake.

I realize with a sickening certainty that he's very, very weak. His birthday is…

"Fuck," I whisper.

Ember's eyes shoot to me. "Terra?"

"Rylan's thirtieth birthday is tomorrow."

She sucks in a breath.

There's no way he can survive this.

Thresher moves in again, but Rylan partially shifts his claws and rips them into Thresher's front.

Ember hisses. "He has to go for the belly. Everything else is probably covered in skin that's a little thicker."

I can't look away.

Rylan and the crocodile are going blow for blow, but every time Rylan lands one on the massive bulk of the croc, he manages to get something new on Rylan.

There's blood. So much blood. Enough that I can smell it.

"He's going to die," I whisper.

It feels… final.

I'm going to watch Rylan die in front of my eyes.

Next to me, Ember shifts on her feet.

"Fuck it," she mutters.

She leaps.

My friend easily clears the ten-foot fencing and lands, easy as a bird, on the arena floor. She rolls to the side, circling Thresher.

The crowd is screaming. I can hear the announcer saying something, and I know that this can't be legal, but… nothing about this is legal.

Ember lunges forward. She's like a whirlwind. Everywhere the croc turns, she's there, punching and pummeling. Finally, she jumps, using the croc's body as a ladder. She lunges forward and stabs him neatly in the eyes.

The larger man bellows, his hands clapping over his eyes. He turns and runs for the gate that I assume leads to some kind of locker room.

The crowd boos, but I don't care. I need to get to Rylan.

"Terra?"

Thorne is behind me. I don't see Chet anywhere, but I don't care.

"Get me down there, Thorne," I gasp.

Thorne nods. He takes my hand and pulls me through the crowd until we find yet another bouncer. "That's her mate," he barks.

The bouncer, begrudgingly, lets us through.

We walk through a locker room that's a health hazard before I smell the blood and sand of the arena again. When we're finally there, I run to my mate. Ember's crouched over him, too, and she's tugging at her clothes to strip them off for bandages.

Rylan's breath is shallow.

"Em," I say to my friend, my voice tight. "What's happening?"

"He's… he's alive." There's a distinct hitch in her voice. A pause that I know, in the very bottom of my heart, means that there's a "for now" added to the end of her assessment.

"What…" My voice trails off.

I was going to ask her what was wrong, but I can see with my own eyes.

His hand is broken. His fingers are there, but at a strange angle. There's a laceration on his torso that goes from his neck to his belly button. The space above his heart is juicy, and I can see white ribs poking through…

"Terra?" Rylan wheezes.

That is not a good sound.

I fall to my knees and gently move his hair out of his face. "I'm here," I whisper.

He can't open his eyes. His lips move like he's trying to say something. Rylan takes in a deep, sucking breath, and I hear Ember make a small, sad sound behind me.

"No," I sob. "You promised, Ry. You promised. No more leaving."

The words feel like they're being ripped from me.

Everything around us fades. All that exists, all that there is, is Rylan.

Bleeding. His heart is practically visible through the shredded remains of his shirt.

I throw myself over him. I don't know what to do. There's no potion for this. There's no way to shift and have him recover.

He's going to die.

I'm going to lose him. For real this time.

"No," I cry. My face contorts as a scream of rage comes out of my body. "Rylan," I scream. "No!"

The word seems to echo in my ears.

There's a roaring noise. A sound that's somewhere in between a freight train and a waterfall. Rylan moans underneath me, but I can't see him.

It's too bright.

Everything around us is lit up, illuminated by a glaring, brilliant glow.

"Terra."

My name sounds like a prayer on Rylan's lips. It's much more solid than his voice was a second ago.

I lean down. "I'm here, baby," I whisper.

There's so much light, I think for a minute that we might both be dead. That the break I felt in my heart when Rylan fell is real. And that I'm dying with him.

I'll miss my mom. I'll miss Ember.

But the prospect of a future with Rylan, even one where we're both dead…

I don't hate that.

One of Ryland's hands drifts up to my shoulders. He runs his hand down my spine.

His hand…

I spin.

"Oh, shit. Rylan. Your hand," I gasp.

It's whole again. No evidence of being stomped on. Nothing to show that he was just put through a meat grinder of a fight.

I look down as Rylan moans.

His chest. His stomach. Everywhere that once was a gaping, open wound is slowly closing.

None of this should be closing. Not unless…

Rylan's eyes open, and the electric blue of his irises is ringed with a dark, emerald green.

Mates. We're fated mates.

I don't need to say it out loud. Rylan's lips spread in a grin, and he nods.

"It's only ever been you, Terra."

When I throw my arms around him this time, I'm still crying. But these are tears of joy.

Because being held by my mate, the love of my life…

Nothing could make me happier.