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Ignoring the fallen Gladiator, Naxer continued his predatory advance toward Torian. The pack, immovable as stone, blocked Torian’s retreat. Betrayal and desperation danced in Torian’s eyes as he realized no one would come to his aid.
Cornered, Torian faced Naxer.
“You leave me no choice.” Naxer’s voice was a low rumble, his eyes locked on Torian’s. “You’ve done more than merely usurp me—you’ve sullied our sacred traditions. It’s time for you to leave.”
Fear and defiance fought for control over Torian’s features. Finally, with a guttural roar, he transformed—his body expanding, clothes tearing, fur sprouting—to his monstrous Wulfaen form.
The crowd scattered, shouts of alarm reverberating through the air. Among them, I heard the screams of the Earth women, panic-stricken and afraid. Naxer, too, shifted, his larger form dwarfing even Torian’s.
I inched closer, just beyond the perimeter of flying claws and gnashing fangs of both wolves. The vicious fight between the two wolves had begun.
My thoughts raced back to the tender moments shared between Naxer and me—the laughter, the intimacy, even his delectable cooking. I clenched the grip of my holstered blaster. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—lose him now. If Torian emerged victorious, he’d face the lethal force of a well-aimed shot before he could revel in his triumph.
There was a pause to the fight while Torian and Naxer circled each other, both warriors battered and bloodied. Torian limped, one leg raised off the ground as if it could no longer bear his weight. And there was blood on Naxer’s fur—was it his or Torian’s?My heart pounded in my chest as I gripped my weapon, ready to intervene. My world narrowed down to this moment, where love and survival collided.
Frozen, I could only watch, my prayers silent pleas against the backdrop of snarls and thumps. Naxer lunged, his Wulfaen form a blur of power and agility. With a deafening thud, he pinned Torian’s bone-colored form against the earth, jaws clamped around his scruff.
But Torian refused to yield. In a desperate move, he twisted under Naxer’s grip, tearing his own skin to free himself. Snapping at Naxer’s throat, he forced him to retreat. The tension was unbearable, like the taut string of a bow just moments before it snaps.
They clashed again, talons raking flesh, leaving trails of red in their wake. The air was thick with the scent of blood and the growls of combat. My head ached as I tried to follow their rapid movements, the whirlwind of violence they’d become.
Then, in a heart-stopping instant, it was over. A bone-crushing chomp, a guttural yelp of pain, and the crowd collectively inhaled.
My legs propelled me forward before I could think, and I saw Naxer standing triumphantly over Torian, whose jaw hung unnaturally askew. Defeated but still breathing, Torian lay sprawled on the ground, no longer a threat.
Naxer had won.
Tears of relief blurred my vision, which I wiped away, impatient to reach him.
Delven’s hand gently touched my shoulder. “Give him a moment to reclaim his throne,” he counseled softly.
My feet itched to cover the distance between us, but I waited, watching as Naxer transformed back into his Gladiator form.
Sweat-glistened and victorious, Naxer stood as naked as the day he was born. Someone tossed him a pair of pants, which he pulled on quickly. Then, standing tall and triumphant, he turned to address his pack, his defeated enemy lying unconscious at his feet.
“Torian’s defeated. Have him shackled and take him to our healer. He will remain incarcerated during his convalescence. Once he’s restored, we will banish him forever.”
Gladiators carried Torian’s now-transformed Gladiator body away.
“I reclaim my rightful throne as the Alpha of sector seven.”
A tumultuous symphony of cheers and primal howls filled the air as conversations erupted like wildfire. Naxer let it go on for several seconds before waving for silence. “I must speak now with the pack elders, the Council of Five, and the Earthlings who were delivered to us. We have many important things to discuss.”
I stepped forward to get his attention but stopped when I heard Zahira shout my name. “Amara!”
I turned just in time to see Zahira limping rapidly toward me. The women, realizing that their guards were no longer herding them, trailed after her.
“You’re alive,” Zahira said. “You’re here. How the…? What the…?” She stopped short of grabbing me, looking me up and down. “What in the alien worlds are you dressed in?”
“A shirt.” I laughed at her confusion. “Not mine, obviously. I’m hoping to get some real clothes soon, and some for you guys too. But where are Kali and Cielo?”
“Gone.”
I swallowed hard. “Dead?”
Zahira shook her head. “No. Taken to sector one with the other women.”
“Fuck!” I replied, my fists clenching and unclenching. “We’ll get them all back.”
