9. Tristan

Tristan

Chapter 9

My eyes were still closed when I felt the car slow, letting out a piercing squeal of paper-thin brake pads. I'd slept the better part of 18 hours and had woken up with just enough time to shower, eat some cold pizza Jude had left me, and book the motel room for an extra few days. My injuries had mostly healed, but my limbs still felt heavy, like I was walking around with ten-pound weights tied to my wrists and ankles.

Once the car came to a stop, I cracked open my lids to see we'd arrived. The cab driver let out a long, low whistle and leaned across the seat to get a better look through the gate. "Wow, that's some place. You live here, man?"

"Nope." I shoved a handful of bills through the opening in the plexiglass barrier. "Thanks for the ride."

Jude took the truck home, so I had no other option but to take a cab. Just as well considering I'd been in no shape to drive last night. Who was to say what kind of shape I would be in after tonight.

If I even walk out of here alive, that is… And that was starting to feel like a pretty big if. I missed my old cocky, overconfident self. Being vulnerable and alone sucked ass.

"You have a good night." I could see the curiosity in the driver's eyes as he looked me over in the rearview mirror. My shirt was wrinkled, and there might've been a smear of blood too; I hadn't taken a good look at my t-shirt from last night before pulling it on. The driver probably thought I was here to rob the place. In truth, all I had in mind to steal was my omega before heading for the hills.

We don't run, my wolf chided.

I sighed and got out of the cab. There was no point in arguing with my wolf. We didn't often see eye to eye on matters of morals and pride.

The driver sat in the car with the engine idling, probably waiting to see if I would have to climb the fence. Imagine his surprise when the gate opened on its own before I even had a chance to push the intercom button. I waved my fingers at the security camera on the way by, grinning a wide, cocky grin. I swaggered across the property, even as I heard the cab finally pull away, taking my final lifeline with it. "Evening, boys," I said to the guards standing on either side of the stairs at the back of the house.

"I heard it was quite the fight last night?" the eagle shifter said, and he somehow made it sound like a question.

I smiled tightly. "I wouldn't know. I couldn't watch, kept my eyes closed the whole time."

He laughed, a wheezing kind of chuckle. "Good luck tonight."

"Yeah. Thanks." I had a feeling I was going to need it.

Then, as I descended the stairs into the earth and the cold and the damp began to seep into the barrier I'd erected around my heart, that was when I felt myself falter. I paused at the bottom of the stairs with my hand on the door handle. My attitude would have to be my armor tonight. I couldn't let them smell my fear.

Pushing open the door, I found myself entering a very different space than last night. There was no music this time, no oppressive wave of heat and smells. This was no longer a party. Half the competitors had been eliminated, and with them, their families.

The chatter died down for a moment as I walked down, heads swiveling to take me in, beastly eyes shining in the half-dark. Their gazes were assessing, gauging what they now knew of my skills, wondering what else I had up my sleeve. I heard the distinctive sound of sniffing and inhaling; they'd no doubt noticed I was alone and were wondering what that meant.

Easy prey was what it meant. Separate a target from its herd and take it down…

The sound of a door opening signaled a change in the room, excitement and anticipation rippling through the crowd. Mr. Caruso emerged from the door that no doubt led to the house upstairs. My mate's scent reached me before I caught sight of him, and my wolf sat up and took notice. Dylan followed directly behind his father, already searching the room for me. As soon as our eyes locked, his whole body eased, shoulders sagging and his face softening as the tension that had him in its grasp released its hold. I had no doubt others in the room would notice too if they had two brain cells to rub together. It was impossible not to see the connection we had, to feel it in the air between us. It would no doubt make me a bigger target than I already was, but I couldn't force myself to look away.

Finally, Mr. Caruso stepped between us, glaring at me. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged, smirking, without apology. Dylan was mine, no matter what his father said.

He cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Congratulations on making it to round two. You have all made quite an impression on me that I won't soon forget. Win or lose today, I will have a place for you within my empire—unless you die, of course. Then the best job will go to whoever killed you." He laughed loudly, and most others joined in, but I could see the nervous glances between the families.

Is it just me, or did he just throw down a challenge to kill the competition? I asked my wolf.

My beast was wary, viewing the room through my eyes. Or to kill you, he finally answered, and I let that observation sink in.

Could the man really despise me so much? He didn't even know me. Well, I would just have to make it my mission to prove to him what a fucking delight I was!

"The first match tonight goes to Andreas… and Tristan." Mr. Caruso's gaze fell on me like a loaded gun.

I grinned, letting his malice wash right over me, like water off a duck's back, leaving me untouched. I stripped off my clothes, offering a wink to Dylan as his cheeks warmed with a hungry blush, and his father's scowl deepened as he gritted his teeth. Folding my clothes, I left them in a pile outside the gate. "Hey, watch these for me, would you?" I sassed to the guard standing there. With the money these people held, I highly doubted they would be stealing my ripped jeans and ratty t-shirt anytime soon.

Stepping into the cage, I buried the frisson of fear I felt. The mat was firm beneath my feet, still stained with blood from yesterday. The door latched behind me, and a second click followed as the guard attached a padlock. Well, that's new. My wolf didn't like that one bit, and neither did I. Was it to cut out the potential of outside interference or to prevent escape?

Across from me stood the largest man I'd ever seen. Seeing him from a distance yesterday hadn't done him justice, and he only seemed to get larger the closer I got. I wasn't a short man by any means, but he stood a full head taller than me, even with his head shaved down to the scalp. He would've made even Jude look like a child's plastic action figure in comparison. He had muscles on top of muscles, to the point I wasn't sure he'd even be able to pull up his own pants. And while the dark skin of his chest was decorated with an entrancing pattern of intentional scarring, likely meant to intimidate, I found his eyes were soft, kind. Apologetic.

Andreas approached me and held his hand out to shake. "You fought well yesterday. To be outnumbered by such strong competitors, it was impressive to watch. I'm honored to compete against you." His voice was a deep baritone that seemed to vibrate through me.

"Yeah, same to you." My hand was swallowed up inside his as we shook. His palms were calloused and rough. He was a hard worker. I didn't know what it was about him that reminded me of home, since his beast was clearly more comfortable in the jungle than the forest, but I was suddenly homesick. I missed clean air, the woods, and my family.

"I won't go easy on you, but I'll try not to break anything important," Andreas said with a wide grin, flashing straight white teeth.

I laughed. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

The match started much like yesterday's, the two of us as men circling each other warily, waiting for an opening. This time, I had the advantage of having seen his fighting style yesterday. He was a total powerhouse of lethal force. I had to be careful not to get too close or he would easily crush me.

We paced the ring for so long that the crowd started to get restless, shouting encouragement and curses, goading us into action. Andreas and I shared a look, and the big man heaved a shrug, as if to say, "Well, we'd best get on with it."

He lumbered toward me, the mat vibrating with each step. I let him get close enough to take a swing, dodging away before he could make contact. He was easy enough to evade with a few quick steps. I supposed I could tire him out for a bit, but I wasn't sure what kind of endurance he had. For all I knew, we could be at this all night. I needed to force a play.

Darting around him suddenly, I leaped up onto his back and wrapped an arm around his throat from behind, hoping to choke him. His neck, however, corded with muscle and sinew, was like squeezing a metal lamppost.

And he fucking laughed! I realized my mistake right about when he grabbed me by the ankle and yanked.

"Oh, shit," I yelped as he dragged me off his back and slammed me face down into the floor at his feet, forcing the air from my lungs. Dazed, he punched one of those meaty fists into my kidney before I had a chance to roll away. Gods, I was going to be pissing blood for a week.

Pressing up from all fours, groaning, I staggered a step back before spitting bloody phlegm onto the mat. First blood. Andreas grinned and nodded. "Game on," he said.

Fuck, here we go. We both shucked our shorts and shifted.

This was bad. Very, very bad. Because Andreas might've been a lumbering brute as a man, but as a gorilla, he was far more limber. His center of balance was stable as he rocked onto his knuckles. And if I thought things couldn't get worse, he hooked his fingers in the cage and swung up the wall, before leaping through the air toward me. We barely had time to react as he came slamming down onto the mat, missing us by mere inches as my wolf sidestepped.

We shook our head, our concentration slipping. With my stronger senses triggered, all I could scent was Dylan. He was close, much closer than the stage at the back of the room. He must've decided to get a better view of the fight, but now, all I could think of was him.

Focus! I barked at my wolf. If we lose this match, we lose our mate. Game over.

At my urging, my wolf snapped at the gorilla's hand as he reached for us, nipping his fingers, and he pulled back with a low grunt. The problem, though, was that we weren't used to fighting against an opponent with four dexterous limbs… Distracted as we were by his hands, we never noticed his foot until it closed around our paw and yanked. Just like that, the mat, the cage, the crowd, it all spun around us as we were dragged up and into Andreas's arms, upside down. Blood rushed to our head as he crushed us against his torso with bruising force. We kicked with our back legs, and he squeezed, our hips and lower back popping.

From this angle, we were staring at Andreas's knees as a black halo began to close in on our vision. Distantly I could hear Dylan shouting for me, sobbing. "Tristan! You have to fight! I need you!"

Our blinks getting heavy, our vision zeroed in on Andreas's thick thigh. Did we have one more bite left in us? Damn right we did!

Forcing our muzzle forward, we sank our teeth into the heavy fur, searching out the throbbing pulse we knew would be there. Deeper, deeper still… and sure enough, as we found the femoral artery, blood gushed past our muzzle.

Andreas let out a shocked bellow before his grip loosened. We hit the mat hard, landing in a heap. True to his word, nothing was broken, but it took a few seconds for the feeling to return to our lower limbs. When we finally stood on shaky legs, we saw Andreas lying in a growing puddle of his blood, his eyelids fluttering closed.

I quickly took my skin back and darted over to him, putting pressure on the wound. "I've got you, buddy," I whispered. I could hear someone fumbling with the lock, trying to get the gate open.

A doctor was soon there, taking over for me, but I stayed by the large gorilla's side until I was sure his shifter healing had kicked in, his chest rising with his slow breath. When I finally stepped out of the cage, Dylan was there. "Tristan!" He threw himself into my arms, and I barely had time to catch him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice by my ear, breathy and frantic, and it made my entire body erupt in goosebumps.

"I'm fine," I confirmed, relishing the feel of him pressed against me. My body reacted without consent, adrenaline still surging through my veins. My cock thickened, regardless of having no clothes to hide it and being in a room full of witnesses.

Dylan angled his hips in tighter, which didn't help the situation. There was no doubt he felt it. "Thank you for saving Andreas."

"Of course. There was no need to kill him," I said, reluctantly putting him back on his feet. "My pack growing up taught me that all life is sacred. Andreas might have been a rival, but he is not my enemy. It's an important distinction." I did my best to talk my body down, but I quickly grabbed my jeans off the ground and pulled them up, zipping carefully over my semi. I smiled slyly when Dylan's eyes dipped down to watch, his cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink.

An older man approached, with the same complexion and features as Andreas. "Thank you," he said, his voice warm and rich, bearing a slight accent. "My son, he is everything to me. You fought honorably."

A growl cut us off, and we both turned to find Azar, his eyes shining green and gold, too beautiful for a creature so obviously dark. "The match was not over. He didn't win!"

Dylan was quick to jump to my defense. "Of course he won! Andreas couldn't continue that fight. He would've bled out," he snapped, but when Azar turned his sneer on him, I guided my mate behind me.

Andreas's father moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with me, blocking Azar. "The wolf won. It is decided."

Azar bared his sharpened teeth and hissed, before making his way past us to the gate. He prowled outside the cage, nostrils flaring, as he waited for a few men to sop up the blood. The cleanup lasted longer than our match had.

"You should go back to sit with your dad," I whispered to Dylan, eyeing where Mr. Caruso sat on his throne, fingers steepled as he surveyed the events with an impassive gaze.

"No," he said defiantly. "My father may demand you go through with this fucking competition, but I refuse to play along." He slipped his hand into mine, interlacing our fingers. "We don't know how much time we have on this earth, and I won't waste a single second I have with you, no matter what anyone else thinks."

For one perfect second, there were just the two of us. Nothing else mattered. He brought his other hand up to my chest, still bare, and the heat of his touch made me close my eyes and breathe him in. Nothing felt impossible. Dylan made me strong, made me brave. "Dylan, I—"

Movement drew our attention back to the cage, and it was almost shocking to realize that reality was not the warm embrace of my mate. It was cold and it was brutal. Azar darted into the cage as soon as it was clear, while his competitor, the hyena shifter, Merlin, was more cautious. Again, the gate was closed and locked, and a cold slither of dread seeped in.

This was going to be bad, I just knew it. The tension in the crowd pressed in from all sides. They seemed reluctant to cheer for this match-up, as if they, too, knew.

If I'd blinked, I would've missed it. One second Azar was glaring at me through the metal links of the cage, his lip peeled back from his razor-sharp fangs, and the next, he'd slashed his claws straight across Merlin's neck. Blood sprayed out, painting Azar's face and chest.

Merlin went down on his knees with a burbling gasp, hands to his throat in a futile attempt to staunch the flow.

"No!" Dylan choked out, his voice ragged with disbelief.

The tiger shifter kicked Merlin's chest and shoved him to the ground. Then, as he stood over the man bleeding out on the mat, he pressed his foot under his chin, forcing his head back to keep the wound from healing.

Dylan let go of my hand and rushed forward. "Please!" he yelled, slapping the cage. "Azar, I said please! Stop!"

But Azar just sneered. "This is how we know the match is won."

Not far from us, another man was shouting. A hyena shifter wearing an expensive suit, sweat slicking his forehead, eyes lit with panic. Merlin's dad. "Do something! Joe, stop him! Stop the fight!" he begged, looking to Dylan's father where he surveyed from his stage.

Mr. Caruso just stared with an impossible-to-read expression. "You knew the risk, Avi."

"No, NO!" he roared, running for the gate. He pulled at the padlock, tendons straining at the pressure he exerted, even managing to bend the metal before the guards pulled him off and forced him to his knees.

The noise from the crowd dropped low, until all that could be heard was Merlin's final gurling gasps and his father's desperate sobs. Merlin Cant was dead.

"N-no," Avi stuttered. Then louder, his eyes flaring. "No! This is all your fault!" He stood and reached inside his jacket, pulling out a gun.

I acted without thinking. As Avi swiveled and aimed his gun at Mr. Caruso, I brought my arm up in an arc, knocking his arm, and the gun, high. With an ear-splitting bang and flash of light, the gun erupted, the bullet punching into the ceiling over Mr. Caruso's head. He ducked as plaster rained down, but there was no need. Three guards tackled him, taking him down to the floor. One of them produced zip ties from the inside pocket of his jacket, and with quick movements, Merlin's father was restrained at wrists and ankles.

"I will kill you, Joe!" he vowed as he was dragged out. "You're fucking dead!"

As a stunned silence blanketed the room, Joe Caruso stood and casually brushed off his suit as if shit like this happened all the time. "Well, this evening certainly ended with a bang," he said, seemingly unruffled and looking to turn the assassination attempt into a joke. He stepped down from the stage and headed through the hushed crowd to stand in front of me.

"That was quick work, Mr. Tate. You may have saved my life," he admitted grudgingly, narrowing his eyes at me. It was hard for him to deny it in front of all these people, though he must've been tempted to try. "I suppose I'd better invite you to stay for dinner."

I felt Dylan relax in relief, the scent of his hormones sweetening. I would do anything to spend more time in his presence, even subject myself to dinner with my future father-in-law. It seemed awfully late for a meal, but I found myself saying, "Sounds swell, thanks." Besides, all I'd eaten today was cold pizza.

Grabbing my t-shirt off the ground, I followed behind him, Dylan's hand back in mine. We passed Azar, reeking of blood rage. His chest was heaving, drool dripping from his chin. Tomorrow, I would find myself locked in the cage with that monster, and I had no idea if I would make it out alive. So, I decided I'd better make the most of today.

I blew Azar a kiss and headed upstairs with my mate.