Page 13 of Reign

We all fought in human form, no shifting, no magic, not for any supernatural inside the Gambit, unless it was one of the Count’s wagered fights, and a containment spell had been conjured around the ring by his witch. There were no exceptions; it was considered cheating and punishable by the laws of the club—which, depending on his mood, was subjugation or death by the Count's hand.

The Count sat on his throne, a strange-looking yet beautiful woman kneeling at his feet. His witch. She was nearly naked and covered in runes from the top of her shaved head to her toes. He had the leather straps that attached to her collar wrapped loosely around his hand. She tilted her head up and said something. He stared at her for a moment, his face utterly devoid of emotion before he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She pulled back and frowned; her nostrils flared as she looked over at a fair-haired girl at the bar. With a look of determination, she leaned in and kissed Balthazar roughly, biting his lip when she got no reaction. The Count yanked her head down, and she had no choice but to back off. His eyes flared and his lip curled back from his fangs. He snarled more words, and she turned around and kneeled with her back to him, her face a mask of fury. He ignored her and met my eyes before looking at the curtains at the back of the club where the regular club fighters congregated. A nod was all I needed to know the fighter he wanted me to meet was up next.

The ringmaster, a flamboyant Asian vampire, had dressed half of his body drag queen style, and the other half as you would expect a perfectly coiffed and tailored vampire to be, in a black, long-tailed jacket, complete with half a top hat and a cane. He vaulted into the ring as soon as B'nar knocked his opponent down. B'nar jumped over the ropes, landed smoothly, and accepted his shirt back from Stone, who was grinning as if it had been him fighting. It was a revelation to see both of these stoic males finally relax in this place. B'nar used his fine shirt to wipe the blood and sweat off his skin. I raised my brows and exchanged a look and a smirk with Owen, who grinned.

The ringmaster's antics were as bizarre as they were entertaining. He changed his or her voice and style depending on which side of the club he addressed. The side with the most females got the vampire, the side with the most males, the drag queen. My stomach tightened, and Prime growled as the ringmaster looked right at me. This was it.

“And now ladies and gentle supernaturals, you need to show me just how excited you are for our main event. Let me hear you roar!”

The crowd went wild, roaring and yelling and banging their feet and their glasses on the tables.

“Ha! Not good enough. You know the sexy Velvet will not come out unless you give her some encouragement! AGAIN!”

More roars until my ears were ringing, and Prime was scratching at my insides to get out. I fought him back. The rules still applied even to me. No shifting until the Count gave us his blessing.

"Better! Now give it up for the battle for the new King of the Ring!" The drag queen was talking now. "Let's hear it for that sexy thang Velvet, and the one you've been waiting for...King of the Shifters! Get in here, you luscious supernatural beasts!"

The crowd went wild. I vaulted the ropes into the ring. Prime snarled and then howled, his dominance and power rolling from me...

They are all ours. They should kneel.

I rolled my shoulders, gritting my teeth against the need to release my power and do as Prime wanted; make all these creatures bow at my feet.

Air brushed my skin...

Balthazar stood behind me. I tensed. “Careful King,” he whispered in my ear. “This is my domain. Follow through on that need to crush all, my kind as well as your own, and you will die by my hand, oath or not. Control your power.”

Then he was gone.

I turned. He leaned forward slightly, his elbow propped on the armrest of his ‘throne’ and his chin resting on his fingers. His look told me that I hadn't just imagined his voice in my ear, but it had happened before I could even blink. It was hard not to respect power like that. My acknowledgement was a brief dip of my chin and a smirk. He returned the gesture without the smirk.

We had an understanding.

I pulled in Prime, along with my need to crush the supernaturals in this club to my will. Instead, I turned my attention to the female who climbed fluidly into the ring.

Her severe cut, jet black bob swung a little with the dip and turn of her body. She was lithe and slim, but with enough defined muscle, it was clear that she was strong and trained hard. She straightened, and I couldn’t help but compare her to my Firecracker. Ember was petite where this woman was tall. Ember’s eyes were a bright jade green, where this woman’s were a vivid blue. My heart squeezed as the loss of my soulmate hit me in the gut once again, but I pushed that pain away. There was no room for weakness.

The woman was at least six feet tall or just under, and she had a confident arrogance that raised my hackles. Perhaps it was for show—perhaps it wasn't.

Prime snarled.One of our own.

Not just a shifter.

He huffed in agreement.

Another power lingered around her; only I didn't recognise it. That made me more wary. Most supernaturals could shift their appearance to seem human. As humans, they kept their particular species traits, but their true power was hidden until they took their true form.

I assessed my enemy. Starting at her feet, I studied her body as she prowled around me. She favoured her right side. My eyes narrowed, or did she? The boot heel on her left foot was more worn. Interesting—and clever. I hid my smile. A good misdirection tactic. Her stomach was flat and covered in tattoos. Beautiful, inked wings peaked out from under her cropped top, curling around her ribs and the curve of her waist. Her arms were generously muscled, except it wasn't that which caused me to pause; it was the face that stared out at me from her upper arm. His features were as clear as day.

Drake.

My gaze flicked up to her face. Why the Hell had she gotten a tattoo of my brother on her arm? Things got even weirder when I stared into her face. I knew her. But I couldn't, for the life of me, place from where. She was a stranger.

“You have an issue fighting a female, Prime?” Her smirk was tinged with underlying irritation as if she’d had that very issue before.

“No. Just admiring your ink. It’s very well done. Who’s the guy? Someone here I should worry about when I beat your arse?”

Her laugh was bitter. “No. He’s not real, just some man I drew from my imagination.” She sighed dramatically. “Real livemen, whether supernatural or not, are just soooo disappointing.”

---