Page 2 of Chomp's Challenge

Perry stumbles over and tries to help his friend, but the stick he uses to swat at the gator is swatted away like it was a twig, and the beast turns its wrath on him. Good gator, I think. Perry goes quiet, and Ricky continues to scream, until he doesn’t anymore, just as my body and brain completely shut down. If Death is coming for me, at least Perry and Ricky went first. It’s a small consolation, but at this point, I’ll take it.

My eyes are closed, but I feel an incredible warmth enveloping me, accompanied by a soothing rumble. Warmth washes over my face and neck—so gentle. The darkness is relentless and resumes control as the last of my strength wanes. My last thought is that I’ve become a snack for an alligator. Thank goodness I don’t have family that will be looking for me.

Chapter

One

CHOMP

Ever since I scented my mate a few months back, my gator has been a bit ornery, impatient, and restless. He’s constantly trying to steer me toward the swamp or local lakes, eager to search the water for our elusive female. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been looking for her daily. He’s still pissed we haven’t found her yet. Last night he hissed at Spike. The president of our club and one of my closest friends doesn’t take shit from my gator. Not surprising since he’s a dragon. Yep, a dragon.

People don’t know about us or other shifters. It’s supposed to stay that way, but humans are unpredictable and feisty, and I have a feeling my mate is out there somewhere, tangled up with the wrong ones. It’s just an itch. A scratchy feeling under my scales I can’t get rid of. And my gator hates it. He chumpfs loudly to remind me.

After last night, Spike said I need to get my shit straight. Well, more like he growled and ordered it, so I decided a few days in my shifter form might turn my thoughts around. I figured it was the best course of action considering he had smoke billowing from his nostrils. Waking his dragon isn’t something any one of us enjoy doing, especially since he’s fearsome. Usually when he’s ticked, we smell smoke, but when we visually see it, there’s typically a rush to leave the immediate vicinity.

The cool water is calming to my gator as we enter, almost entirely submerging beneath the surface. It’s hours later that my gator hisses. I’ve been floating, and of course, checking out the club’s properties, so I’m not sure what draws me close to the campsite that we recently opened as an adjunct to our kayaking and rafting business.

We own so much land, there’s no reason not to expand our businesses, especially when so many customers want to know where they’re able to camp. We don’t have RV spots, just areas for tents, but each is nicely landscaped, and comes with a firepit, a picnic table, and a concrete grill. The weekend draws plenty of business.

What I don’t like is the people. Some of them give off bad vibes. I wasn’t crazy about the two men who rented a spot for the weekend with their small truck. While we don’t allow huge RVs, the truck has a camper top and they had the tent and other camping gear strapped to the top, so we let them rent despite my misgivings.

And now that itchy feeling has suddenly become a sting so strong that my scales nearly burn. My gator is riled up, and I have no choice but to investigate. Nosing around, I catch the elusive scent of my mate, thrilled to finally find the sweet aroma again after so long. Without hesitation, I move closer only to freeze in my tracks when I hear her screaming and crying. What the fuck is going on?

As a shifter, I have heightened senses and can move faster than a normal alligator. I’m also much larger in my gator form, so when I see what one of the men is doing to my mate, my first thought is to get him off of her. The primal part of my brain takes over. It’s the beast in control now.

My gator’s U-shaped snout opens, and his teeth snap down, biting into our prey. Pleasure rolls through me as the human male’s screams of pain fill the air. The crunch of bone satisfies us both as the metallic taste of blood coats the gator’s tongue. I have no qualms about ripping him apart, especially when I see some of the damage he inflicted on my mate. His cries are music to my ears. My only goal is to ensure he can never touch anyone ever again.

I sense movement seconds before I see another man rush in our direction. When he comes near me with a stick to defend his friend, then swats me, I bellow, showing him all my teeth, now coated in his friend’s blood and gore, before using my front leg to toss it aside. My gator is eager to tear him apart, too. He’s furious that two males were harming our female. With this new human now in my sights, I set about making sure neither can ever hurt my mate again. While I have no clue who he is to her, I instinctively know that he’s been her primary tormentor. There’s a sour odor on him that’s slightly attached to her, although the scent of the other male smothers her more. It’s enough to enrage both me and my gator to the point that we feel murderous.

But it’s my mate’s whimpers that keep me from fading into my beast completely. I hear her occasional murmurs but focus all my attention on the fucker in front of me. Somehow, he broke my mate, so now, I’ll break him. Then I’ll take all these parts and submerge them at the bottom of the lake for the other predators who live below the surface. I mean, everyone’s got to eat, right?

But I don’t expect my gator to fling the body parts from side to side in his jaw, showing off because he’s proud that he destroyed the vile humans. I don’t realize he’s tossed the pieces into the lake and let them sink on their own because he’s anxious to return to our mate. It’s when his tongue begins to lick her clean and try to heal her with his saliva that clarity soaks into my brain. She’s close to death. Fuck!

By the time I shift back to my human form, my mate is unconscious. I gather her close, unsure of what I should do first; find clothes so I don’t freak her out because I’m naked or reach out to Spike and have him or one of the brothers bring a cage so I can take her back to the clubhouse. She needs medical care, food, water, and medicine. She’s hurt beyond my comprehension.

An agonized hiss leaves my throat as I stand and hold her against my body heat, desperate to help this woman who already owns my heart before I hear her speak a word or gaze into her eyes. I make a quick decision to take her back to my place first, knowing I have first aid supplies on hand. She won’t die on my watch.

I’ve got a cabin set far back from the road. When my gator gets antsy and I need the lake to soothe my beast, I’ll spend a few weeks here. It’s not noisy or crowded like the clubhouse. Out here, it’s just nature and wild things and the calling of the water that soothes my itchy scales.

This is the only place I feel truly at ease and where my monster can roam without fear of discovery. Even the campers know from the posted signs that gators roam these shores, and I’m strict about hunting. This area and the surrounding campground are for recreation only.

The walk to my cabin happens so quickly that I don’t realize I’ve reached it until I see the familiar door. Kicking it open, I enter and take my mate straight to my room on the second floor. I don’t hesitate to place her on the bed and don’t care if her blood stains the linens. I’ll buy everything new and provide all that she needs.

“I wish I knew your name,” I whisper as I rest her head on my softest pillow.

She’s yet to regain consciousness, and my gator’s worry magnifies my own. I don’t know the extent of her injuries and won’t until I can cleanse her body from the rest of the blood and dirt. She’s filthy and bruised and beaten so badly my hands shake as I push her hair off her face. Tenderly, with great effort, I stroke her cheek where it isn’t swollen.

“I won’t let anyone harm you again,” I vow, rising to my feet. In the bathroom, I gather supplies and fill a basin with hot, soapy water. When I return, I place everything on my nightstand and drag it close, sitting on the edge of the bed as I begin to wash my mate’s soiled skin and delicate limbs.

I’ve got her mostly clean when I can’t help gazing at the juncture between her thighs. They’re slightly parted, and it’s the bruising and blood that causes a muscle in my jaw to tick. Rage floods my body as I feel my gator’s fury rise again. She was violated in the worst way, and I know she won’t want a stranger to touch her there. As much as I want to cleanse those vile humans from her body, I won’t betray her trust while she’s sleeping. Not that she knows who I am. Yet. Every part of her has been washed except for her intimate areas, and it’ll have to suffice for now.

Once I’m finished, I cover her with a blanket and leave her to rest, knowing I’ve done all I can for now. The human part of my brain insists that she needs to go to a hospital so a doctor can examine her, but my beast knows I’ve done more to heal her than any human medicine. The enzymes in my saliva coated her wounds as my gator licked them. The healing properties inside should be enough to help her body recover from the wounds. Even the broken bones are already mending, which pleases my gator tremendously.

He’s also happy that she’s here in our burrow, surrounded by our things, and permeating our bedding with her scent. I take one last look at her, breathing in her essence before I turn and walk away. Right now, she needs rest so she can heal, even though I want to know every little thing about her.

I close her in my room and head downstairs to put on a pot of coffee. As it brews, I send a text to Spike. He needs to know I won’t leave my mate’s side until she’s fully recovered. I know that means that I’ll miss church and other club functions, but I don’t care. My mate is the only reason I would defy my president, and she’s worth any punishment I could receive.

It’s not surprising that he shows up at my cabin an hour later. Spike doesn’t bother knocking first before he enters, scowling as his gaze bounces around the cabin. “Where is she?” he asks. While his tone is harsh, I don’t take offense since that’s normal for him. Only Callie, Kodiak’s mate, causes him to soften his speech. Granted, we all find ourselves acting differently around her since she’s the first mate that any of us have found. Now, I’ve found mine, so I’m sure it’ll give the rest of the brothers even more hope that theirs is out there.

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