Mate Claimed

The referees entered the ring first, three Shifters and a human. Iona wondered how they’d been chosen—who organized these fights anyway?

Graham had stripped down, the man as big as Eric, and even more broad of shoulder. The hair on his head was buzzed short, but he had thick wiry hair on his chest. Red and black fire tatts wound down his arms, more wild than the neat jagged black pattern down Eric’s right arm. Graham’s eyes were white gray, stark in the dim light.

The cold knot in Iona’s stomach tightened as the refs stepped back and Graham and Eric entered the ring.

As soon as the refs signaled the start of the fight, the noise around her became insane. All Shiftertown must be there, the Shifters shouting, yelling, screaming, or roaring and growling.

Diego’s diminutive mother had made Xavier find her a box to stand on so she could see. She and Nell were hollering, hands around mouths. Cassidy shouted as much as they did, the other Shifters and Xav not drowning her out.

Iona couldn’t make a sound. She watched from the edge of the ring as Graham and Eric circled each other in silence, each assessing the other, each waiting for an opening.

As the crowd’s noise escalated, Graham finally attacked.

He remained human but dove at Eric, rage in his eyes. His Collar sparked, but Graham totally ignored it to slam himself into Eric.

Eric shifted as the man came down, and rammed all four wildcat paws into Graham.

Who became a wolf. Graham’s wolf was huge and black, his red mouth open to show gigantic teeth. Eric’s leopard snarl reached even over the crowd noise as he let himself fight.

The refs circled, but what went on in the center of the ring was too fast to follow. Cat and wolf fought with whirlwind madness, paws striking, teeth tearing, dust billowing. Blood flowed, both on Eric’s white fur and Graham’s black sides.

Graham’s Collar kept arcing snakes of blue, the thing never letting up, but it didn’t slow him down for a second. Eric’s Collar remained silent, which no one but Iona seemed to notice.

As the fight continued, something started happening inside Iona. The hunger that was driving her crazy didn’t abate, but a new sensation rose to match it.

Fury.

Eric was fighting for his life, fighting for her. Graham was pounding him, the wolf larger than the wildcat, though the leopard was plenty fast.

Another alpha was beating up her mate, and here was Iona, stuck on the sidelines, unable to go to his defense because of the stupid rules of the fight club.

What would they do if she ran in there? Simply stop the fight? Declare Graham the winner? Didn’t matter, because Iona wasn’t about to become Graham’s mate, regardless of how the battle turned out.

The Challenge was more symbolic, Eric had tried to explain—he was out here to put Graham in his place.

The wildcat inside Iona didn’t give a shit. She saw Eric battling, and the need to get in there and save his ass surged within her until her vision filled with red haze.

Her body started to change to the panther, never mind that she’d rip her clothes to shreds, and a long growl came out of her throat.

Cassidy glanced at her. “Iona?” She leaned to her. “You okay?”

Iona couldn’t answer. The Shifter in her was taking over, and she had no Collar to stop her. She could kill Graham and, as Eric had said, go out for pizza.

She took a step forward, but Cassidy grabbed her with a strong hand. “I know,” Cass said in Iona’s ear. “I know how it feels. But you can’t.”

Iona shook her off. In the ring, the wolf and wildcat were tearing each other apart, bodies rolling around in a tight ball, the refs circling them, trying to decide what was happening.

The refs would never be able to pull them apart in time. One of those Shifters was going to die, and if Iona had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t be Eric.

The need to defend him rose like a black tide. She snarled as she ran forward—and came up against the bulk of Shane.

“No,” Shane shouted at her. “He’ll have to forfeit if you put one toe in the ring.”

Iona switched her rage-filled gaze to Shane, who took a startled step back. Iona pinned him with her glare, willing him to get out of her way, promising silently that she’d rip him open if he didn’t.

A wildcat scream sounded from the ring. Iona shot past Shane, the sound of Eric in pain propelling her.

Graham, still a huge black wolf, scrambled back from Eric, blinking and breathing hard. Eric was on the ground, his Collar silent, but he writhed in agony. Blood coated his fur, but Iona knew that wounds weren’t causing the pain.

Eric had moaned in the same kind of agony last night in his bed. Unexplained pain was again twisting his body, his wildcat snarling and rolling to try to stop it.

Graham’s Collar was going off like crazy. The wolf rose on its hind legs, shifting on the way, until the human Graham stood up, hands on hips, panting, Collar still sparking.

“It’s over!” Graham, gray-faced with his own pain, yelled at the refs. “He’s done. I’ve won.”

Iona ducked away from Shane’s outstretched hand and leapt into the ring. She was half changing, her limbs becoming the cat’s, but her feet still propelling her like a human.

Dimly she realized this half state had never happened to her before, but she didn’t care. She turned a snarl on Graham that made him blink.

“This isn’t you,” she shouted, her voice coming out guttural and strange. “You didn’t do this.”

Graham glared at the refs. “Get this bitch out of the ring.”