3. Kezia

"Maybe?"He was watching me intently. "Zee, what are you saying?" Vance asked.

A soft touch, his thumb running lightly over my jaw, caused me to look back at him. His hand cupped my cheek, and his fingers slid into my hair.

"I don't like Zee," I protested weakly, meeting his gaze. Vance's lips twitched. When he took a step closer, bringing our bodies flush against each other, I couldn't deny the thrill I got when I felt him pressed against me. "What are you doing?" I asked him, feeling his fingers tighten in my hair, his hand cupping the back of my head.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "On one hand, I'm thinking that you're, what…eighteen?"

"Nineteen," I corrected. In human terms, I was nineteen. In shifter terms, I was an adult now that I had gone through my first heat. No one would bother counting years anymore, as shifters lived much longer lives than humans. An adult was an adult. Age was a number a shifter cared little for.

"Okay, on one hand, I'm thinking you're nineteen." Vance leaned down slightly, bringing our mouths dangerously close to each other.

"And the other?" I whispered, watching him closely.

"On the other hand, I don't care."

His lips covered mine. His tongue swept in, dancing with my own. This wasn't like when Landon had kissed me. That had been weird. Landon's tongue in my mouth was as alien to my body as the idea of Landon being my mate was to my soul.

When Cannon kissed me, I was overcome with need, want, and hormones. Him I wanted in a way I never thought I would crave anyone.

When Vance kissed me, I was very aware of what it felt like, and I took the time to explore the sensation. He knew what he was doing, I'd give him that. He took charge of the kiss, his mouth hard and soft at the same time. His right hand was fisting my hair, and his left was running down my back, resting on the curve of my hip.

Slowly my hands slid over his chest and around the back of his neck, my fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hair was shorter than Cannon's. I could feel the product he used for his hair, giving it a strange texture, and it left an unpleasant coating on my fingers.

Vance was also shorter than Cannon, so there wasn't as much stretch to kiss him. He also wasn't as broad-shouldered; I hadn't met anyone who was as wide as my alpha. I felt his hand slip from my hip as he ran it over the curve of my ass, and I remembered vividly what happened the last time the alpha learned someone had touched my ass.

In fact, all I could think about was him.

Cannon.

I broke the kiss abruptly, taking a step backward. "Um…"

"Yeah," Vance agreed with a short laugh. He watched me, his look assessing. "I…we're good?"

I nodded. "Yeah, of course." Smoothing my hands over my thighs, I tried to keep the awkwardness out of my voice. "I need to fight."

Vance stood back, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes. Absolutely. You go ahead." He pulled out his cigarettes. "I'll need a minute," he told me with a rueful laugh, resuming his pose against the wall, his foot flat against the wall with his leg raised to hide his arousal.

"And that's my cue," I told him as my face flamed after all. "See you in there." Hurrying around the side of the warehouse, I couldn't believe I'd just made out with Vance. "It better be my heat," I growled, tugging my braid free and shaking out my hair. Goddess knew what it looked like after Vance had his hands in it.

I rejoined the main crowd and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the buckets. When I first started fighting, Vance had warned me against drinking from these and told me to always check the seal. Human drugs didn't affect shifters. Much like alcohol, it burned out of our systems very quickly. However, until Bullet, I wouldn't have been wary of a gun, and now that I knew some bullets could hurt me, I checked the caps of bottles.

I drank the bottle in three gulps, seeing the last fight had ended, and looking around, I saw the organizer watching me. He gestured to the ring, and I gave a curt nod to show him that I understood. Jumping onto the skirt of the ring, I rolled under the ropes, and getting to my feet, I saw I was the first one in.

The emcee gave me a nod of acknowledgment but went back to talking to someone at the ropes. Once again, I braided my hair, tighter this time. I didn't know who I was fighting, and if they were a hair puller, I would rather have a sharp tug on a braid than lose a handful of hair.

I watched the door more than I should, and when Vance entered a few minutes later, giving me his usual look, I felt the tension between my shoulder blades ease. Looking at my tank, I opted to keep it on. I'd made enough rash decisions tonight.

Bouncing lightly on my feet, I was surprised when the emcee approached me, pointing at my boots.

"Lose the boots."

"Why?" I asked him, coming to a standstill. I looked at the canvas. "Have you seen this canvas? There's blood all over it. I'm keeping the boots."

"You keep the boots, you forfeit." He looked bored as he spoke to me. Sure, the germs and stuff on the canvas weren't bothering me, but had I not protested, it would have brought more attention than I needed.

"Says who?" I demanded.

"Boss says." He shrugged. "Lose them or get out."

Turning, I looked to the back and saw the organizer watching me. He grinned and I searched the crowd for Vance. I spotted him talking to someone, and it looked like he was arguing. His head snapped up and he looked to the ring and saw me watching. He looked worried and I watched him make his way to the back of the warehouse.

"You losing the boots?"

"Ugh, fuck it." I kicked my boots off and placed them in my corner.

"Socks too."

"You better tell your boss to be ready to pay my medical bills," I grouched, pulling off my black socks. The canvas was cold under my feet, which surprised me, considering how hot it was in here. The ring was also wet, and I knew they'd hosed it down, but still…ick.

Stuffing my socks in my boots, I looked around the empty ring. Where was my opponent?

"Zee!"

Turning in surprise, I looked at Vance. We were supposed to be strangers to each other, why was he blowing it all to hell? "What are you doing?"

"They changed your opponent," he told me, getting closer to the ring. "I don't know who it is."

Looking up, I met the knowing smirk of the organizer. "You just let him know you know me," I growled. "How bad could it be?" I asked him as I turned my attention back to him, crouching down to speak to him without shouting.

"It could be very fucking bad, babe," he said with exasperation. "Drop the fight. We'll get another somewhere else."

No. I needed that money in case I had to run again. Shaking my head, I stooped closer to Vance, speaking in his ear. "It'll be fine. If he's a monster, I'll take the dive you asked of me."

Vance jerked his head back to look at me, the question clear in his eyes. "Don't be a hero," he warned me.

"Me?" I teased him and was rewarded with the familiar eye roll.

Vance looked around and then back at me. "Well, they'll all know now you're one of mine," he said. Reaching up, he tugged my head down and planted a kiss firmly on my lips. "Make it fast or get out quick," he whispered as he pulled away.

Resting back on my heels, I ignored the nearby catcalls. Pushing myself onto my feet, I jumped lightly on the spot, shaking my arms loose. The warehouse was packed, the atmosphere electric. The noise levels were loud, so many different smells as people crowded close to each other. I'd learned early on to breathe through my mouth only. There were too many scents for my nose that it caused me a headache.

Rolling my head on my shoulders, I turned to ask the emcee what the holdup was when I saw the crowd part to make way for someone.

I tracked his every move as he walked with confidence to the ring, head and shoulders above most here. My heart was hammering against my rib cage, my breathing felt labored. We made eye contact, and I took a step back at the animosity that was blasted my way. His hair was slightly longer than fashionable, and his face looked harsh in the light, all sharp angles and hard planes, emphasizing the almost severe jawline, the high cheekbones, and the perfectly straight nose.

Effortlessly he jumped onto the skirt of the ring, grabbed the top rope, and in a move of athleticism and incredibility, swung himself into a handstand, balancing on the top rope before his body flipped into the ring. The crowd went wild.

I was sweating as he landed squarely on his feet and looked me up and down. His feet, like mine, were bare. His jeans were loose but molded in all the right places. The dark gray T-shirt was sculpted to his chest and accentuated his biceps.

Watching me, he reached behind him, and in one slow move, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His golden bronzed skin was perfect and flawless under the harsh unforgiving lights.

My mouth was dry, sweat beaded along my top lip, and my clothes felt sticky and heavy.

The lazy smirk as he looked me over made my body heat ratchet up a few degrees. The pull in my belly constricted, my core tightened, and heat erupted all over my skin.

His nostrils flared, his head tilted slightly, and I watched as hooded eyes narrowed further.

The emcee was speaking, and I saw him gesture to us as the crowd screamed. Habit made me walk to the center of the ring, and I watched as he mimicked me until there was only one measly human who stood between us.

"Cannon."

Cannon ran his eyes over me. I saw him inhale slightly before his lips twisted in an ugly sneer. "You smell of filth."

My body wasn't ready for him. My head wasn't ready for him. But more importantly, my heart wasn't ready for this confrontation.

"How are you here?" I whispered, ignoring the emcee and everything he was saying.

"Your lucky night?" Cannon answered mockingly. "Or did you already get lucky tonight, Zee?"

It was getting harder to breathe. His scent surrounded me, making me feel foggy and disoriented. Shaking my head to clear it, I looked up at him, seeing his green eyes hard like granite as he watched me. "Stop it," I whispered, hating the desperation in my voice.

The emcee had finally realized we weren't listening to him and had stopped talking.

Cannon ignored my plea. "Forfeit, walk outside right now."

"Who waits for me outside?" I asked him bitterly.

Cannon flashed his teeth at me. No humor. No mirth. "Or you stay in here, and I get to kick your ass like you deserve."

My wolf stirred and I pushed her back. "When I kick your ass, I'll leave. Will you let me leave?"

"No."

Frustrated, I sucked my teeth. "So, you win, you take me back. You lose, you take me back."

This time, there was maliciousness when he smiled.

"Fuck you." I turned away from him.

His hand caught my braid, jerking me back into his body, tugging my head back to look up at him. Cannon glared down at me, ignoring the fact I was struggling or that my fingers dug into his forearm as his hand tightened in my hair. I could only imagine what we looked like in the middle of the ring. The fight hadn't even started, and he had me locked in his grip.

"Fuck me?" he growled, his hand tightening even more. "Fuck me?" I looked up into the barely controlled anger. "You smell of him, you reek of him. Walk outside now."

Anyone else would be running at the fury in his eyes. Anyone else would be on their knees in front of the alpha, bowed in submission.

"Emcee!" I shouted over the noise of the crowd. "Start the fight." I stared back at Cannon, furious at the situation I was in. "Get your fucking hands off me."

He let me go abruptly, pushing me away from him forcefully, causing me to stumble. The crowd cheered. I got back to my corner and once more loosened my hair as I watched Cannon in his corner, recognizing Royce with another shifter I didn't know at the edge of the ring. Both were watching me.

I dare not look for Vance. Cannon was already furious, and I didn't need to make it worse for my friend.

Twisting my hair, I tied it back in a tight bun, and as the alpha watched me, I knew I'd need an advantage because my alpha was fucking huge. I remembered his words to Kris that night in the kitchen of my cottage. The alpha in him didn't like anyone looking at me unless I was covered. I pulled my tank up and tossed it behind me, relishing his rage as his eyes narrowed to slits.

With a wicked smirk, I reached for the top button of my jeans, and the alpha charged forward. Dimly I heard the bell ding for the commencement of the fight, but my attention was on the male in front of me.

I expected him to punch, but he didn't. I expected him to dodge my punch, but he didn't. My fist connected in his gut, and he didn't even grunt. Instead, Cannon picked me up and tossed me clear over his shoulder. I landed flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me.

With a cough, I rolled, but I saw his large hand circling my ankle, and the alpha asshole picked me up with one hand by the ankle and dangled me in front of him like I was a worm on a hook.

The crowd was cheering maniacally, and as I twisted to break free, a hard smack landed on my ass, causing me to yell out in surprise rather than pain. I punched out and connected with his dick. Cannon dropped me, and I sprang away from him while he folded over in pain.

As he crouched, I scissor-kicked, my right foot connecting with his chin, knocking his head back, my left foot landing squarely on his chest, kicking him backward.

Cannon took a step back, and I ran to the ropes. Throwing myself against them, I used their momentum and flung myself, launching myself at his unprotected back, intent on wrapping my arm around his throat. I knew I wouldn't beat him physically, but I sure as hell could choke the fucker.

Cannon spun, catching me in midair, and used my power against me to throw me clear across the ring. I landed face down on the canvas, and I heard a hiss of sympathy as I landed with an oomph. Looking up, I met Royce's stare.

"Hey," I groaned, rolling over onto my back. I saw the alpha coming for me and quickly did a backflip to regain my feet.

Cannon stood still as he watched me. The crowd was going wild, but all I could feel was the sense of violence that lurked beneath his skin. He'd tossed me across the ring, dangled me upside down, and smacked my ass like I was a naughty puppy, but he hadn't hit me.

A desperate plan began to form. Desperate because I wasn't sure I could hold my own against this male. But still, I wanted him to fight me, really fight me, not play with me.

Cannon's eyes flared briefly as he watched me move. Feinting right, I spun to kick him at the last moment, but he grabbed my leg, hauling me to him. I tried to fight the wave of heat that rolled over me as Cannon gripped my thigh over his hip, his fingers digging into my ass.

"You won't beat me," he goaded, dragging his hand down the curve of my spine as he arched my back.

"I don't want to beat you," I told him with a snarl. "I just want to see you bleed." My punch didn't have the normal weight behind it, but I hit him right above his eye, a soft area that was prone to bursting open like a dropped watermelon, and I hummed in satisfaction as that exact thing happened when I struck him.

Cannon twisted my body, and somehow, I got his knee in my gut and was once again winded and on the canvas. Sensing him near me, I rolled, my legs kicking out with sharp precise movements, connecting with his shin and upper thigh. He didn't budge, but his arrogance also meant he didn't move, and I aimed a forceful kick to the back of his knee, causing him to stumble. I rolled away, knowing how quickly Cannon would recover, and springing to my feet, I jumped again as I threw myself at him, my punches and kicks wild and unrestrained.

I knew I got him a few times, because I could hear the crowd shrieking. But more often than not, he blocked me. With every kick, sidekick, punch, and jab I attacked him with, he let a few past his defenses, but mostly he blocked. Cannon's fist knocked into my belly; it was nothing more than a tap, but it knocked me flat on my ass because I hadn't been expecting it. He reached down for me, dragging me up by the strap of my sports bra, and turning me in his grip, he kicked my ass, literally kicked my ass, sending me lurching across the ring as I tried to steady myself.

"Bastard," I muttered as I regained my footing. Turning, I met his cold hard stare. "Fight me."

Cannon snorted in answer.

I knew he'd been holding back. I knew he hadn't hit me once, not really. I think I threw myself into his fist more than the other way around. I'd fought and trained with my brother. I knew fighting. I could fight. Cannon was insulting me by refusing to fight. I knew the crowd was seeing something more violent, but they didn't know how hardy shifters were.

How hardy I was. He would fight me. Licking my lower lip, I looked him up and down.

"Do you hate the fact he touched me?" I asked softly, knowing only a shifter would hear me over the din of the crowd. "Do you hate that his mouth was on mine?" I circled him as I watched his hands curl into fists. "He knows how to kiss. I can still taste him," I added with what I hoped was a contented sigh.

The alpha pounced. But not towards me like I'd planned.

No.

Cannon jumped the ropes in one move and landed in the middle of the crowd.