41. The Shifter World #3
I shake my head. His lame excuse for ‘nice” as an Alpha still has me baffled somehow, but I let him have it because I know who he is, and Slayer doesn’t seem to mind. I swear he’s great at making me see stars, but his Alpha instincts need work.
What doesn’t need work is his swagger. That man can fuck, and having Ryker watching us added that voyeurism kink that apparently I have too.
I should have asked for the brain-dead package, where I get round two or had Ryker join in, but I’m sure there was a reason he only watched this time.
What am I thinking? If I had round two, I wouldn’t even be able to walk; Knox would have to carry me out of here as I drooled myself to sleep.
“You know, I can hear everything you’re saying, right?” Knox chuckles. “You’re thinking those thoughts,” he says, squeezing my hand.
“I said what I said.” I look up at him with a smile. “I’m not ashamed.”
“You should be,” an unfamiliar voice calls out, and we turn to see three figures walk out from behind a tree.
I immediately put my hand on my glaive, but Knox squeezes my other hand again to still me from pulling it free. It doesn’t stop me from leaving it on the handle though. I might not pull it, but I’ll be ready to skin a bitch.
“He’s a poor excuse of a shifter,” another voice says.
The two outer figures step farther into the moonlight, and I see identical twins with shaggy brown hair, yellowish eyes, lightly tanned skin, and decked out in dark clothes that make it easy for them to blend into the woods.
It dons on me that I briefly saw them earlier on the other side of the river bed, arguing before the battle instead of helping.
“Jackal shifters, Tannan and Tanner,” Knox supplies. “Beck’s pack.” With that information, I already have an idea who the person in the middle is, and I grip my handle harder.
“Cloak. Fancy meeting you here,” the blond boy says with a sneer.
“Beck,” Knox growls. “What do you want?”
The blond pushes his hands into his pockets and rocks back onto his heels, and I instinctively know he’s trying to hide his nervousness. Is he scared of Knox? As a scrapper, I’m used to reading people’s body language, and that’s what he’s screaming right now.
“I figured since we’re right here, I might as well give you a chance for a truce.” He gives Knox a sly and fake smile. Like a snake setting out the bait right in front of its prey, taunting it.
“Lie,” I barely whisper, knowing Knox will hear it.
“Only one way to find out,” he quietly tells me while sending confidence down our link before he speaks up. “You know, as a shifter, there’s only one way for a truce to be completely dealt,” Knox growls out, and Beck nods sadly.
“I understand, that’s why I brought it up. So you know I am aware and will accept my punishment.” Beck sounds remorseful, but his tone rings false, and I point it out to Knox once again, just in case he didn’t hear it.
Knox leans down like he’s about to whisper into my ear.
‘Thank you, Kitten. He’s definitely setting me up. So, stay on guard because if this goes south, be ready.’ Knox squeezes my hand before letting go.
‘Wait, what are you agreeing to?’ My stomach drops; I don’t understand the Shifter side of this world yet.
“Beck, I, Knox of the Cloak Pack, challenge you to a Blood Match in the name of Atticus and the purpose of a truce,” Knox calls out in a loud, clear, and dominating voice.
Beck’s smile is salacious, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
“I, Beckingham of the Ozark Pack, accept your Blood Match, in the name of Atticus and the purpose of a truce, but since it was in my right to kill him, I pick which form you take as my opponent.” As soon as his words are spoken, a boom is heard, and a flash of light follows, blinding me.
Once the light has dissipated, my jaw drops as I see black fur with gray/white specks along its small body—Dusky—sitting in Knox’s spot, and a huge ass lion where Beck once stood.
How the fuck is this fair?
‘Dusky?’ The kitten turns to look at me with his green eyes, and I hear his purr before a roar rings out, shaking the ground. ‘Hello, mate. You look beautiful tonight.’
My eyes almost pop out of my head as he compliments me while Beck stands up and flexes his claws for my little mate.
But instead of my mate panicking or even looking at the ginormous cat shifter, he brings up one of his paws and starts grooming himself as his two black and teal wings flutter along his back.
This only angers Beck, and he takes off running for my mate with a commanding leap for him that stops my heart.
As soon as Beck gets about a foot away, Dusky puts down his paw, takes a breath in, and sneezes.
Plumes of gray and white mist rise from his body and surround Beck, and it drops the beast in mid-air.
Beck lands with a thud, and it’s easy to see who won this fight as the mist clings to Beck, and one can hear it start to sizzle, eating away the skin and bones of the lifeless body.
‘And this is why we are called Stardust Kittens. We’re rare, and not to be fucked with,’ Dusky hisses to everyone in the area before shifting back to Knox.
Knox has to literally shut my jaw before he turns us to face the two jackals still standing, looking at the disintegrating Beck.
“We done here?” Knox asks, and they say nothing as they turn and run. “Come on, Kitten. Let’s get back to our family.”
“What the fuck did I just witness?” I whisper.
“Just one of the powers of Dusky.”
Holy baby flying kittens.