Page 27 of Wilder Obsessions

His features light up at my question, the spark in his eyes captivating yet infuriating.“Of course!And you’ll get to see me shift.”He winks.

“Wilder, this is reckless!You’re going to get hurt!”The words tumble frantically from my lips without consideration for decorum, emotions shattering like glass with each syllable.

“He’s undefeated,” Kody booms as people turn to look at us.Suddenly, Wilder is swallowed up in a sea of people, all chanting his name.

“Black!Black!”

Panic surges through me as I watch Wilder disappear into the throng.My heart races, and my breaths come in shallow gasps.The crowd’s energy is overwhelming, their excitement a stark contrast to my mounting fear.I feel a crushing weight on my chest, the oppressive atmosphere closing in around me.

The roar of the crowd grows louder, their chants echoing off the brick walls.I can barely hear my own thoughts over the deafening noise.The sight of Wilder, my anchor in this chaotic world, being swept away fills me with a sense of helplessness.I want to reach out, to pull him back, but my feet feel rooted to the spot.

Where am I?

How have I stumbled into this mad vortex?

A cold dread washes over me, my stomach twisting into knots.Watching Wilder shift and fight in that pit of chaos fills me with a sense of impending doom.The thought of seeing my mate transform into a beast and engage in violent combat is too much to bear.Memories of past traumas flood my mind, each one a sharp reminder of the pain and fear I’ve endured.My heart races, my breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps.

I’m seated with Kody as my mandatory guardian, as Wilder put it, while he gets into the ring.He forbade me to leave his side like I’m a petulant child.I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at his audacity to stick me with a babysitter.I’ve been on my own most of my life, I’m not as fragile like glass.

Just then, Wilder emerges from the dressing room, his athletic physique a charming shock of sinew and strength beneath the blaring spotlight.The crowd erupts into a roar, drowning out my thoughts.My attention zeroes in on him as if he were the sun, and I a mere moth drawn to his glow.

But I’m not the only one drawn to Wilder’s brilliant flame.A striking woman, with hair cascading like a waterfall of shimmering obsidian, approaches him, her smile syrupy sweet.My stomach twists, a furious tempest gathering as she trails her finger across his arm, the very act laced with a familiarity that ignites a spark of rage in me.

Wilder’s head snaps my way, his piercing yellow eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers racing down my spine.Somewhere, deep within the unyielding steel of his gaze, his expression turns inscrutable, but I’m certain he felt my anger.I want to run to him, to scream at him to remember who I am.

A laugh erupts from the crowd, pulling me out of my brooding thoughts, and I close my eyes tightly against the noise, willing myself to drown in silence.I attempt to hum softly, but all I can hear is chaos—the pounding of feet, the shouts of the spectators, the bass of the announcer’s booming voice amplifying the turmoil inside me.

“Wilder Black is back for another round!”the announcer bellows through the speakers.A deafening roar erupts from the crowd, vibrating through me, causing my heart to race.With a pang of reluctance, I crack open my eyes to the spectacle before me.Wilder stands at one corner of the ring, muscles taut and ready, a fierce glare etched onto his face.

First impressions could shatter illusions, and in this case, this man was all foreboding menace.His form radiates raw energy—a shadow that swallows the light around him, his golden hair a stark contrast that shimmers like spun gold against the darkness of the venue.However, it is his eyes—amber, encircled in an unholy red—that sends a chilling shiver weaving through my very bones.Staring into those depths feels akin to gazing into the abyss, where darkness thrives.

The announcer’s voice echoes again, full of raw excitement, letting loose the story behind this deadly showdown.“Jasper Quinton placed a bet with Wilder that he couldn’t ignore, which brings us here tonight!”He moves the microphone away briefly to exchange some inaudible words with the two men.Judging by Wilder’s grimace, I can only imagine it’s a taunt, one that is stoking the fire, igniting the fight.

“This is another fight to the death.The only way out of this ring is if either opponent is dead,” he yells, hyping the audience into a fevered frenzy.The crowd rises in unison, a wild storm of bodies, their anticipation crackling in the air like a thunderstorm on the verge of breaking.I’m pushed and shoved as people try to get a better view of the arena.Kody pulls me back just in time before I faceplant into the row below us.

“And now, without further ado ...shift!”The announcer’s hand slams down on the bell, piercing the charged atmosphere.I watch, breathless, as Wilder begins his transformation.It is beautifully horrific, a chaotic ballet of sinew and bone.I feel sick as the sounds of bones cracking and reshaping echo in my ears.I grew up amongst humans, had only read about shifters in whispered tales, and now witnessing it unfurl is both majestic and terrifying.With a final snap and twist, Wilder’s form morphs into a black puma.His fur glistens, absorbing the light and giving way to the darkness.The shifter leaps into the air with a lithe elegance, his landing a resonant thud that sends tremors through the ground, urging the spectators into a hysteria of chanting his name.“Wilder!Wilder!”

A flurry of movement catches my attention—a blur in my peripheral vision.I turn just in time to catch a glimpse of Jasper, who is shifting as well.Wings flash, enormous and feathered, a resplendent display of power.My breath hitching in my throat, I realize that Jasper is morphing into some kind of beast, a creature not of this world.

“What is he?”I gasp to Kody.

“He’s a griffin, a rare mystical breed.Capable of aerial and ground assaults,” he mutters, his expression grave.

The two beasts circle one another, the puma’s grace a sharp contrast to the griffin’s raw might.I can feel the air quake with their unrelenting intent.Wilder prowls forward, a fluid shadow, muscles coiling as he positions himself for a strike.

And then, all at once, the battlefield explodes into mayhem.The puma lunges, vaulting with astonishing agility, narrowly escaping the crushing grasp of the griffin.

Kody leans into me to whisper, “Jasper called this fight for revenge against his fallen friend, Draken.Wilder will never say no to a challenge.”The words send a quiver down my spine, as dread pools in my gut like lead.I can feel the sick, intoxicating hunger for blood pulsating from Wilder, and it claws at my insides.Our mated bond ignites, forcing his emotions into my very being—darkness, rage, bloodlust.I don’t want to witness this.I have seen enough violence to last a lifetime.

With a flash of pure instinct, Wilder lashes out, claws aimed for the area exposed as Jasper flaps his wings.The arena echoes with primal roars and tortured cries as neither will relent.The clock is ticking, and though onlookers writhe in cruel anticipation, I know this isn’t merely a fight, it is a battle of wills, a clash of destiny and power, with everything at stake.

A voice nearby yells, “He can harness the power of the winds—it’s a deadly combination when you’re allowed to soar.Wilder needs to stay grounded!”My feet feel glued to the earth, paralyzed by the horror unfolding before me, but every instinct in my body screams for me to escape.

I have to run.

Without a second thought, I bolt, weaving through throngs of spectators each eager for blood, despair coursing through me.I shove my way through the nightmare of bodies, driven by an intrinsic need to escape.To be anywhere but here, a world of chaos and pain.Each shove and push only deepens the urgency in my heart as I hear a sickening clash behind me, a collision of bodies.Crack!Bones breaking, bodies tearing.I stumble, tears streaming down my cheeks, blurring my vision, but the instinct to get away propels me forward.

As I near the exit, pushing past the jostling crowd, my heart shatters with each anguished cry that echoes behind me, a reminder of the blood-soaked reality that my mate is fighting for his life in a ring of savage violence.

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