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Now it was Rune on the offense, tossing Jagger’s massive body across the cage.

Game or not, the clash of fists and fangs brought out the savage in just about any Breed male. Jagger got to his feet, his lips peeled back from his sharp teeth on a furious sneer. His dermaglyphs pulsed with violent colors on his dark skin. He rounded on Rune, amber fire blazing from his eyes as he crouched low and prepared to make another bruising charge.

Opposite him in the cage, Rune stood tall, his massive arms at his sides, his stance deceptively relaxed as he and Jagger circled each other.

Rune’s Breed skin markings churned with raging colors too. His midnight-blue eyes crackled with hot sparks as he studied his opponent. Rune’s fangs were enormous, razor-sharp tips gleaming in the dim lights of the arena. But beneath the sweat-dampened fall of his dark brown hair, his rugged, granite-hewn face was an utter, deadly calm.

This was Rune at his most dangerous.

Carys’s breath stilled as Jagger leapt, catapulting and cartwheeling in a blur of furious motion across the ring. One foot came up at Rune’s face like powerful hammer, so fast, Carys could hardly track its motion.

But Rune had. He grabbed Jagger’s ankle and twisted, dropping the fighter to the floor. Jagger recovered in less than an instant, pivoting on his elbow and sweeping Rune’s legs out from under him with another smooth kick.

The move was swift and elegant, but it opened Jagger up for sudden defeat.

Rune went down, but took Jagger with him, tackling him into an impossible hold on the floor of the cage. Jagger struggled to break loose, but Rune’s spiked knuckles kept the fighter subdued.

Howls and applause thundered through the arena as the clock counted down on the end of the match, with Rune about to claim yet another win.

As Carys cheered his certain victory, she felt a prickle of awareness on the back of her neck. She glanced behind her toward the back of the club. Two of her father’s Breed warriors had just come inside.

Shit.

Dressed in the Order’s black fatigues, Jax and Eli scanned the massive crowd, ignoring the spectacle inside the cage as they sought to locate her. She was getting used to seeing the Order’s babysitting patrol every night, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Maybe her father’s patience had finally reached its end. She knew him well enough not to put it past him to send his warriors out to collect her and eventually bring her home. By force if needed.

Ha. Let them try.

As one of the rare few females of the Breed and a daywalker, Carys was every bit as strong as any male of her kind. Stronger than most, given that her mother, Tavia Chase, was a laboratory-created miracle comprised of half-Ancient and half-Breedmate genetics.

But she didn’t need to resort to physical strength to avoid Jax and Eli. Carys had another ability at her disposal—this one inherited from her father.

As she stood among the crowd near the front of the arena, Carys quieted her mind and focused on her surroundings. Gathering and bending the shadows around her, she concealed herself in plain sight. No one would see her so long as she held the shadows close.

She waited, watching the pair of Order warriors stroll deeper into the club to scan the hundreds of humans and Breed packed inside. Carys drifted deeper into the throng, unseen by anyone. Jax and Eli gave up after a few minutes of searching. Carys smiled from within her magic as she watched them finally leave.

Meanwhile, the match in the cage was over. Rune and Jagger had taken off their metal torcs and gloves. They clapped each other on the shoulder, both mopping the blood and sweat from their faces as the announcer declared the winner.

Carys let her shadows fall away then. The hatch on the cage opened to let out the combatants. She raced to meet Rune, shouting his name and applauding with the rest of the throng as her man collected yet another victory.

Rune’s rugged face lit up with private promise when he saw her. The brutal, fearsome fighter stepped out of the cage and caught her around the waist, hauling her to him.

His dark eyes glittered with need he didn’t even try to conceal. Ignoring the cheers and applause that swelled around him, he took her mouth in a possessive kiss.

Then he scooped her up and carried her out of the arena.

CHAPTER 2

Order Headquarters

Washington, D.C.

Lucan Thorne jabbed the disconnect button on his video call with the human politician who’d been chewing his ass for the past half hour. Times like this, he really missed the simplicity of the twentieth century. Back then, an aggravating conversation like the one he’d just had could be punctuated by slamming the phone down and letting the person on the other end know what he really thought about their uninvited opinion.

What he liked even better back then was being able to carry out the Order’s brand of swift, effective justice in private, rather than under the scrutiny of human and Breed government types whose endless demands for meetings and board reviews only served to hamstring his efforts and waste precious time.

Lucan shoved his desk chair back on a muttered curse and began to pace across his study.

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