Page 59 of Let Us Prey

Giving him the tiger version of a snort, I keep watching him as he dances around the circle. I could shift to answer, but I’m not wasting energy. This fool will talk himself into a pine box soon enough.

My hackles raise when he stops, looking at me with a smug grin full of fangs. “Maybe he couldn’t take hearing your little pet will be pinned under me as I fuck the shit of her pert ass after I tear her throat out. Do you think that upset him, Fitzy?”

Rage. Red, hot fury.

That’s all that goes through my mind before I shoot across the ring and knock the ugly son of a bitch to the ground. My tiger takes up where Felix left off, tearing and shredding at him like he’s dinner. Whistles sound and the bell clangs, but it’s all in the distance as I pound the living fuck out of this asshole who not only insulted my Raj, but threatened my baby girl with rape.

It would have to be—Delores Drew belongs to my ambush, even if she doesn’t know it yet, and she’s not letting anyone outside of my family touch her. My animal lifts its head and roars into the night in pure domination as Gregor wriggles out of my grasp after taking a dirty swipe at my cock. That’s a banned area and if he’d connected, I would have torn his off. As it is, I might do it anyway.

Rules be damned.

“Finish it, Fitz.”

Felix’s voice rings in the air and I feel the atmosphere shift as he stalks off—likely to sulk. My anger at Gregor for baiting him, for the threat, and for using my fucking nickname flows through me like lava. If my Raj wants me to finish this asshole, I will.

With another roar, my blood-stained body darts through the air like a white flash and I knock the wolf into the ground so hard he chokes on his own spit. Opening my giant maw, I look directly at Chess and my baby girl, wanting them both to see what I’m about to do. My fangs clamp down on his head, making him scream bloody murder right before I rip it clean off of his body. Tossing my head as blood drips from my mouth, I rear up on my back paws and my tiger declares its own victory.

The applause is deafening, and I sniff as I walk over, lifting my leg to piss on the severed head as one final ‘fuck you’.

I feel lighter than I have in forever when Chess helps our girl stand and make her way through the raucous spectators as they freak the hell out. When she approaches, I consider shifting back, but then Delores Drew drops her hand to ruffle the fur of my goryhead. Her lips are quirked in a mischievous grin and I see the heat in her gaze, despite touching my bloody face.

“Here, kitty, kitty. Let’s go get you some cream to celebrate.”

Chess pales and fidgets, acting like he’s going to pass out on the spot. “I, uh, I’m going to check on Felix.”

He takes off like a hellhound is after him and I let out a big ass tiger huff.

“Yeah, I don’t get it, either,” Delores says. “But that’s okay. He’ll come around. You’re all mine tonight, warrior kitty.”

How the fuck am I supposed to argue with that?!

Take Me To Church

Delores

Fitz doesn’t bother changinginto his non-tiger form, and I find myself surprised my bunny doesn’t seem perturbed by it. In fact, nothing that happened tonight made me afraid—quite the opposite. Cori and Rufus warned me that the last few fights would get pretty gruesome and Chess offered to escort me back to the Tower before it got bad, but something in my gut told me to stay.

Or maybe it was my crotch, because the second I saw Felix and Fitz's bare skin, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

Cori was a little worse for the wear by the time Fitz took over for Felix—something I still don’t understand—and I know Rufus had to hold her hair after the beheading. She’s as weird a pred as I am prey, so I know she didn’t judge me perching on the edge of my seat thirstily.

I wanted to jump in and join them.

Shaking my head ruefully, I look over at the massive beast trotting alongside me as we head to the stony landmark. A scent drifts through the air and I look up, noting the curling smoke I can see in the distance. Aubrey and Renard are up in their little boys’club; the smoke from either the dragon’s pipe or his temper gave them away. Fitz nudges my hand with his gigantic head and I laugh.

“Don’t be a jealous kitty. I see them, but I’m not going to ask them to come down and join us.” He gives me a huge tiger huff, and it makes me smile broadly. I’m not worried about his current possessive streak; it’s the animal in him driving that bus. Fitz has made it clear over and over he wants to share me with his friends. I’m not so sure about that concept, but he has not been shy about it.

It should surprise me that seeing all those bigger preds fight in front of me didn’t make my bunny wig out, but it doesn’t. After Aubrey and Rennie took me flying on their hunt, I realized the way my psycho parents raised me had one benefit: I have more control over my fear reflex than most people and definitely more than normal prey. Once I could commune with my rabbit inside, I figured out how to let her know I’m safe rather than in danger. Since then, I can hide amongst the trees while my winged friends chow down on baddies and not end up a quivering mess.

Though I highly doubt they want me blabbing about their species’ preferred dinner in front of everyone—that would leave them vulnerable to pitchforks and waves of hunters of the non-shifter variety. The Council would love to use the information about dragons and gargoyles to set the race of beings we largely ignore on the rich, powerful ancients, if only to steal their kingdoms and wealth. I won’t be the idiot to trigger a freaking genocide, that’s for damned sure.

Besides, they pick the evil ones, so who cares?

A soft growl gets my attention and I look down at the enormous cat waiting for me to enter the Tower. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Fitz was nervous. He’s purposely stayed shifted and is letting me lead the way like I’m in charge—though of what, I don’t have a clue. I’ve only done this shit once, and it was not an educational experience. In fact, it was about as remedial as possible without having to draw a damn map for the dumbass. I may have seenand read about better experiences, and that little treat he gave me the other night was amazing, but I’m still an amateur with sex.

I doubt Fitz will let that stand for long after tonight, but it doesn’t mean I’m not a little worried.

When I open the door to my room, he finally shifts back, kicking it closed in all his naked glory. My eyes roam over his lithe form, taking in the cut muscles, scars, tattoos, and a painful-looking brand on his ass. It’s obviously a Khan mark, because the paw with slashes is burned in deeply, along with some flourishes and a script-y ‘K’ with a crown. There’s also an ugly-looking claw scar under his ribs that I’d wager almost killed him, and my gaze softens as he turns back to me with hungry eyes.

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