Carnas slams to the ground beside me, legs strung like his Shifter form. When he looks over at me, teeth bared, and skin fluctuating like mine, he growls. “That’s better, Aegeris.Claws out.Hunt well, my friend.”
He bounds off toward the females as more males unload behind him. I watch them sprint into the chaos, but my heart beats heavy with the weight of what I’m doing, of what’s riding on me finding the right female and what I want to ask of her.
Reluctantly, I get myself running into the mass. A redhead gets tackled in front of me by a Klaphos male. I leap over them and keep going. Females of all band colors fill the fields. Two fight each other over a prismatic white Leosantian with tiedup feathery wings, while orange Ginarigons clash with knobby, derma-plated Derorsin over three other females.
I pass a pink-banded woman. She’s covered in so much makeup that I wonder who she is beneath her mask. There’s no way she’d understand or respect our struggles.Nor would a yellow.I don’t want a quirky purple.A red might fight us.Any monochrome band is going to be either out of touch with the war, a security risk, or just in the race for the money.
But a green-banded female takes things as they happen. An orange band means they’re feisty but helpful. A blue understands pain.
I finally narrow down my targets. The longer I run, the more I forget my worries, and the world around me comes alive. Sounds sharpen. Voices become clearer, until I can sort every conversation going on around me.
She’s going to have to be fast to run with our pack and endure our type of life.I start looking toward the few females that have made it beyond the main group and are headed for the mountain. But I’m not the only male who wants the tough females.
Many other males race up alongside me as we chase the females into the woods. I managed to catch sight of one silver banded female, two orange bands, three green, and one blue. Downrange from me is a dark blue Nytheralian, a Mindor brother from a different pack, the two Thorians, an Amphiran, and a Helsvian. We outpace other males, who circle back to take who’s still in the valley.
Several of the females climb the trails, trying to get past one another to reach the buzzer. But I’ve got my eye on the female climbing the rocks. She’s taking the shortest, hardest way up, alone.
I’m not the only one who notices.
One of the Thorians and the Helsvian target her. They start climbing. When she looks back and sees them, she hauls herself faster up the rocks. Her shiny black hair sways as she swings herself from one handhold to another.
My cock stiffens.She would be a capable mate, able to endure our mountainous terrain.
The Thorian and the Helsvian are ahead of me. But when the breeze curls around me and I catch her scent, a new, unfamiliar strength fills my bones. My muscles shudder under the surge. My Shifter wants out, wants to catch her,claimher.
I close my eyes and slow my breathing for a moment, just to take her scent in again. My skin shifts. Claws emerge. My eyes tighten, and my teeth grow, eager to taste the flesh of those who would dare to steal her from me. I’m mid-shift, but it’s more than I’ve done in months.
Before I can claim her, I must ensure she is safe.
I open my eyes and look up at the two males climbing after her. In one bound, I clear half of the distance. My claws bite into the rock. A snarl starts in my throat even though it isn’t my way. I’ve always been the peaceable brother, the one that negotiates. Except right now, I can think only of ripping the Thorian apart and knocking the Helsvian off the cliff.
They want her.
I cannot let that happen.
Scaling the rock is faster, mid-shift, a level I trained hard to master. It lets me think andslay.The Thorian flings a rock at the Helsvian, who takes the hit and growls back. I use the distraction to launch myself up the rock face beside the Thorian.
He whips his head around at me. “Mindor… This one ismine.”
A female screams, making all three of us look up.
Rocks topple down the hillside.
The Helsvian reaches out and catches a female as she falls. He swears. “A little help here? I have to wear gloves so I don’t hurt females’ skin!”
When the Thorian male doesn’t move, I crawl back down the rock and fling myself sideways in periodic jumps, biting my claws into the rock until I’m almost underneath them.
“Hurry! She’s slipping!” The Helsvian calls out.
I scramble up and under her until her boots settle on my shoulders. Then I crawl up until he can guide her against him.
“Thank you.” The Helsvian hugs her tightly. “Go get her. Blues should not be with Thorians.”
“I know,” I growl and climb with frantic speed. The blue-banded female’s scent grows stronger the closer I get, and it urges me faster after her.
The Thorian captures her ankle as I reach their position. I jump sideways, shoulder bump him, free her ankle, then shove him off of the rock with a foot. He careens onto a nearby rock shelf, smashes into the wall, and lands on his feet. When he looks up at me, he growls.
As I turn to check on her and ensure she’s safe, I find she’s already out of reach, heading for the cliff’s top.
