Page 12 of Filthy Beginnings

He’d made his choice. Now, she had to make hers.

Slam.

Despite her training, Scarlett froze.

Slam.

Her chin snapped up, her gaze locking with rut-red eyes under heavy dark brows.

A red-skinned Alpha with huge black horns pressed himself so violently against the glass his big forehead, wide nose, and broad chest were nearly flat.

Thanks to the dais on which her display case rested, she was almost eye to eye with the huge male. He looked only a few planetary rotations younger than her.

His massive palm struck the glass, his lips easy enough to read:Mine.

Her heart skittered inside her chest.

He was not the first fighter to throw himself against the glass or make such a claim, but none had ever done so with the same intensity.

Even more astounding was her reaction.

She wanted to mouth the words right back.

To throw herself against the crystal until it shattered and she was in his arms. Pinned against him. Her nose buried against his skin as she breathed him in. Her smaller body undulating in time with his big one, the iridescent colors of her gift flickering across his skin as his large hands grasped her hips—and his cock thrust deep inside her.

Panting, she pressed her thighs together.

And could barely stop her hand from drifting down to touch herself while he watched.

She wanted to dance just for him. Present just for him. Exist just for him.

“Hands off the glass!” Nars hustled toward the front of the line, his fangs flashing. “Move it along.”

Her dark-haired Alpha stayed right where he was. His gaze locked on her.

“Fucking fighter filth.” Egan’s curse echoed through the private comms. “Shut that idiot down. Now!”

“Did you hear what I said?” Nars’s shock stick flared bright green. “Keep moving.”

The younger Alpha batted the security guard aside like a ball of fluff. The shock stick clattered to the ground.

Nars’s body hit a fellow Alpha farther down the line. That male roared and tossed the guard into another fighter, who swung back. Soon, ignited by the aggression, there was a brawl in the middle of the street only a few paces from the arena entrance.

The rest of security came running.

But even as chaos erupted around him, the huge, horned-Alpha with the red skin and swirling skin designs stayed right where he was, his stare on her.

Slam.The Alpha’s palm hit the glass once more, his square jaw tight, his big forehead furrowed.

A smaller male with orange skin, plaited hair, and a tail, ducked a flying body, then tapped her Alpha on the shoulder.

He didn’t budge.

Unable to help herself, her bare feet shuffled forward, the pull toward this male overriding all sense.

Meeting his demand was as essential as her next breath.

She pressed her palm against the glass, right in the center of his large hand.

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