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Franco flashed a look at Violet, and they both nodded in silent understanding. Just as they hunched over to set their monsters free, Cornel stepped between them.
“I’ll get the one on the track.”
Franco had the impulse to tell him to get away, not to put his life at risk for him, but there was no point. Cornel was just as loyal and caring as Violet. So Franco gave him a gracious smile, and all three of them evolved into their other halves.
It felt like taking off tight-fitted clothing at the end of the day and slipping into cool, fresh sheets. His bones clicked into place as they extended, his dark mane crawling around his face like a halo. His incisors grew in the front of his mouth, and the roar that had been humming at the core of his gut was beyond ready to expose itself to the light of day.
When he looked up, the snarl sitting at the edge of his throat, he saw both Cornel and Violet.
She was just as stunning and majestic as she was in her human form. For one quick moment, Franco thought that seeing her in her tiger form was akin to seeing her naked … free, vulnerable, and powerful, a true expression of identity.
Her neon orange shades blended flawlessly with the black stripes. Her leg and arm muscles tightened and tensed, bending backward to stretch, ready to pounce on her enemy at any second.
Franco’s eyes locked on hers. His soul stirred into those ocean blues, calling peace to him in every form.
I love you.
There was no time for her response because Terror and Koss were coming for them.
Cornel departed from the garage, leaping over the fence in one fell swoop. The crowd pointed, going eerily quiet as they watched the tiger and wolf race toward one another in a surreal broad daylight attack.
Franco hadn’t seen what had happened, but he heard people scream. Shifters were known to exist in the prominently human world, but seeing them in action was a far different story.
The venue exploded into a circus of rousing voices, both confused and intrigued. Terror went for Franco, whereas Koss went for Violet.
Franco was easily able to bat Terror away, just as he had in the forest, just as he had a few seconds earlier when he’d thrown him into the monitors. He was almost thankful that Terror was so deranged. It made him mostly predictable in his inability to see his own impulsiveness.
He snapped his head toward Violet, who had taken a roll and tumble with Koss out of the garage. Franco panted with worry when Koss landed the upper hand, pinning the wild beast to the ground as she flailed and swiped at him.
Franco had been distracted, giving Terror the upper hand. He recovered faster than Franco had anticipated and had jumped onto the lion’s back. He sank his wolf teeth into Franco’s shoulder, pushing through the brown, plushy fur like a knife through butter.
Franco’s roar was thunderous, echoing through the arena and the skies above them. It was the one that had been perched on his chin, meant to cry out triumphantly and not in anguish. But the pain was too much. It burned all the way down his arm and into his chest, his body tensing as Terror thrashed around with his flesh.
Franco spun around wildly, trying to shake the savage bastard from his back. The pain was excruciating, making his vision blurry. The sounds of the stadium and the ferocious clashing of animals fighting around him began to fade.
He couldn’t give up, though. He wouldn’t give up.
Terror’s incessant growling and mangling of his upper right shoulder filled his ear with wet and disturbing noises, most of which only made him even angrier. He used that anger, as well as his love for Violet, to lash over his head at the wolf who had clung onto him like a backpack.
His claws were digging into him, too, tiny extra pinpricks of agony. They weren’t nearly as catastrophic as the pain surging through his shoulder and radiating down his entire body. Even lifting one of his arms to swipe at the wolf, Terror, sent intense misery through his very soul.
He tried desperately, spotting a flash of color in his peripheral vision. He heard Violet’s rough snarl that said she wasn’t hurting. He couldn’t completely see what was happening, but he was glad that she, at least, wasn’t stuck in such a dire situation.
Thinking about Violet caused Franco to begin lashing upward faster. His own claws protruded out like small knives, hoping to catch a bite at any second.
Finally, he connected, slapping the side of Terror’s face hard enough to shift his weight on Franco’s back. Terror screamed. The jab had removed his jaw from Franco’s shoulder, and Franco was finally able to shake him off. His wolf body thudded on the ground and skidded harshly over the gravel.
Franco’s shoulder throbbed in long thick pangs. He was afraid to look at it, envisioning it looking like a piece of meat hanging off a hook in a butcher’s shop. But there was no time to do such a thing, anyway.
He watched Koss and Violet fight while also darting his eyes back out onto the track. Cornel was older than him, but he was quite fit and, clearly, one brave motherfucker. He seemed to be going toe-to-toe with Terror’s other crony, but it was the arena and the attendants that Franco was more worried about.
People were frantic. Some of them were shouting in amusement and recording the occurrence on their phones while others cowered. It wasn’t an entirely unexpected reaction, but it made Franco wonder about the state of his career once everything was said and done.
The thought moved through his mind like smoke as he watched Violet, in all of her glory, slash at Koss, then capture his neck in her jaws. She penetrated through his fur quickly and easily.
His heart clenched like a fist in his chest. He was proud of her, admired her, and hoped with a keen ache that he could tell her that after everything was over.
Then, Terror returned. He was behind Franco again, ready to finish him off and turn his shoulder into a tender steak, but Franco turned his body as fast as lightning.
