Page 6 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
“I’m ready.”
“Beta, start the countdown.” Immediately, the ground vibrates—the stomping of angry beasts travels through me, and I respond with a growl that further ignites their thirst for blood. Those who watched the earlier fights through their wolf’s eyes shift, their hands now pounding their chests.
Solidarity. Family. Pack. Everything Spiro Marros doesn’t understand or value.
It’s our way of life, and hierarchy isn’t guaranteed by birth. It’s earned. It’s valued.
And while my family has ruled for three generations, we have fought and killed to keep our crown. Alphas are challenged—threatened—and losing a battle comes with consequences bigger than the control of territory.
Every fight comes with a sacrifice. No exceptions.
Money. Land. Mates, in some rare instances, when the fight is over a woman or a man.
However, this time I’ll collect more than whatever meager possessions Spiro owns.
Only one of us will walk out of this ring alive.
2
KAI
“Go easy on him, Alpha,” Veris calls out, and others around him snort. The sound is a mix of annoyance meets amusement, and I throw a smirk at my friend.
“Not in my nature, Beta, but…” I trail off, my ear picking up the scrape of sand as Spiro shifts into a fighting position.Why is he doing this?Because it’s not for honor, much less misplaced worry over his wolfen brethren. Not even his greed can cover the stench of fear that’s too thick to ignore.
“Fight me!” Spiro yells out what he considers a warning, growl slipping through. To me, though, it’s more like the yip of a pup. Not menacing in the least. Almost laughable.
“Attack at the sound of the horn.” Giving him my back, I slip my shirt over my head. It’s tossed somewhere to my right, just grazing the floor, when a smaller body slams into my back.
Thenhefalls back onto his ass.
Me? I don’t move.
No budge or shift, Spiro’s force is that of a gnat, and for a minuscule moment, I pity the idiot. He’s no match for me, and we both know it.
Taking in a deep breath, I stretch my neck from side to side. Let him regroup for a minute or two while reigning in my wolf.
For his benefit, not mine.
“Face me,” he snaps, the attempt at a command quite comical if nothing else. “Man to man.”
I ignore him. My attention is elsewhere…
My nostrils flare as the scent of orange blossoms and coconut, with the light undertone of vanilla, sweeps over me on a gentle breeze. My reaction is automatic; every muscle in my body expands before clenching tight, a heaviness in my knot that I can’t ignore. Hunger unlike anything I’ve experienced lashes across my senses, and I shake my head to try and clear the haze.
Sweet and floral; I want more. Wolf and man, we feel a tug—a call that’s impossible to ignore.
Who the fuck owns that mouthwatering scent?
Another deep inhale, and I close my eyes. Savor the moment as the world stops and the stone pendant on my chain warms for a second before growing ice cold. Here and then gone, and I turn my head toward the water when the scent vanishes.
It’s in that momentary distraction that I seem to deeply offend the rogue.
He shouts something I don’t pay a lick of attention to. Comes closer, but it’s when his hand grips my arm that I whirl on him, lips peeled back over my teeth. “Remove your filthy hand.” I’m angry at his audacity, but more so at the loss of that glorious perfume.
“Then fight me.” Spiro’s body is tense as he takes a few steps back, the glint of metal more pronounced now as he flicks the butterfly knife fully open. He tightens his grip. His eyes nervously shift away from me for a second, his attention toward the rogues with him before making his final mistake.
The last one he’ll ever make.
