Chapter Four

"It's true. My uncle was right. I'm a bad, bad person." Pax curled up next to that horrible iron ring, his wrists still stinging from the cuff burns, and the chain still attached, sobbing as if his heart would break. In his mind it had.

Nothing had worked out like it did in the movies. He'd screamed, loud enough to be worthy of any movie heroine and to his surprise, a hero had burst through the doors, splintering the wood as if it was made of paper. Pax wasn't stupid. He had eyes. He noticed how sexy the man looked in his polo shirt and pressed pants… and those shoes. My hero wears Italian shoes.

It was a swoon worthy moment, and Pax blamed his overloaded hormones and the stress of the day for what he did next. The bear dropped the machete, something Pax was grateful for, because that shifter wasn't paying attention to what might have been in its path as the bear was waving his arms around.

But then, seized with something, a feeling he'd never had before, Pax picked it up – it was a fit of bravery Pax was definitely not known for, but he was going to prove to the handsome hero he was no helpless heroine. He was going to prove his worth, although his guts threatened a revolt as the blade disappeared into the bear's bulk.

No, he hadn't stabbed anyone before. That was not part of his MO. So it wasn't like he'd considered the length of the machete against the width of the bear. In his defense, and Pax was going to hold that thought until his dying day, Pax's hero seemed as if he was struggling to win. And then there were the walls being crashed into that were rattling enough to shake the ceiling. Pax had his own safety to consider as well as that of his hero.

But as the hero's words registered, and Pax could see the blood staining the bear's shirt, and then that of the hero as they both fell to the ground… It was all too much. And then of course the hero shifted into a crocodile, because Pax's day couldn't get any weirder.

"I'm so sorry." Pax lifted his head to see the crocodile closer to him than he'd imagined he would be. "Please don't eat me. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to do anything bad. I just…" Pax couldn't finish that sentence. It was really difficult to tell what the crocodile might be thinking. The creature could be laughing at him for all Pax knew. He used to consider himself a good judge of human character, well until he tried to flirt with a bear shifter, but as a rule, he could usually tell what people were thinking about him. "You must hate me now."

Pax's eyes almost fell out of his head when the crocodile slowly shook his head. "You can understand me. I mean, sorry, of course you can. You're a shifter. But wow. That's not something you see every day. But thank you," he added quickly. "I'm glad you don't hate me, although I hate that I stabbed you purely by accident."

He sighed as he looked down at his wrists. "You know, if I had my magic, things might have turned out differently. But the iron in these cuffs is so potent. As soon as that bear slapped them on me, it was like someone had just flicked a switch and my magic went out. I don't suppose you bought a blow torch or something with you? Like one of those master keys perhaps that would work on any locks?"

Another head shake. Pax wasn't sure he'd ever had such a captive audience before. Most people considered him a nuisance and barely listened to him. "I've tried tugging them off." He pulled the chain as tight as it would go, leaning back and tugging. But then he had to stop because the cuffs were really burning where they were touching the skin. "It hurts."

The crocodile nudged him with his head. Pax giggled. In spite of everything, that had to be the funniest thing he'd seen all day. And then he got it. "Oh, you want me to move back. Are you going to try and snap the chain with those wicked big teeth? I'm not sure that's a good idea. You could break one."

A rumbling noise sounded, and Pax realized it was coming from the crocodile's chest. "Are you laughing at me? You sound as if you're laughing at me. Maybe if we got the machete…?" Pax looked over his shoulder at the prone bear and wrinkled his nose. "I have to say I'm glad I'm not close enough to touch him, because that's just…eww. I've never seen a dead body before."

"I have."

Pax's head whipped around, his mouth dropping open as he was face-to-face with a very large and erect cock. "Naked." Pax swallowed and tried again. "Naked shifter. Does that always happen when you shift?"

"Only when my mate's in the room with me." The hero strode over and bent over the bear's body, pulling the machete free and wiping the blade on the bear's shirt. "I'm not sure how much use this will be in getting those cuffs off," he said, twirling the machete in a manner that suggested he'd done it before. "We can try."

"You said mate." Pax swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Did I kill your bear?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" The man studied him and then chuckled. "No. Of course, you're not a shifter so you wouldn't know. Evil shifters who chain up cute magic users don't get mates, sweetie. But it seems like sexy crocodile shifters who save chained-up magic users do. Let's have a look at those cuffs."

"Oh. Right. Is your mate waiting for you outside?" Pax said faintly. All he could hear was the rush of his blood in his ears.

"Nope. He's right here, waiting to be rescued. Hi mate, they call me Storm." The sexy hero winked at him, still naked as he squatted to take a look at Pax's cuffs.

"My uncle said I would never have a mate because I haven't got any wings." Pax was sure he was going to faint. He knew about mates – most paranormals did. But he'd been told since he was a teenager that he would never have one. His uncle was adamant about it.

"Your uncle was wrong." The man glanced at him again and then frowned. "Hey, are you all right? You've gone terribly pale."

"That's all you can say? That my uncle was wrong?" Pax felt it as his body pitched forward and the world went black.