Chapter 3 Nick #2
They slammed together, all claws and teeth, in a battle for dominance.
After a few minutes, the brown one clamped onto the black wolf’s throat until the wet crack of bone snapped, echoing against the barn doors.
As the black wolf slumped to the floor, the brown wolf shifted back, human skin slick with blood, howling at the ceiling as if he could claim the night itself.
The black wolf laid broken in a scarlet pool of its own blood, but his soft whimpers meant he was still alive.
Supes didn’t die easy. You had to crush their heart to finish the job. It was the only way.
The air shifted again, clean, crisp, with an electric buzz that stung my nose and crackled against my tongue. I looked around. Off to the side was a female who flicked her fingers toward the wolf. Air curled under him like invisible hands, lifting him off the ground.
Mage.
Yes. They were born into this world like humans, but inside them laid a power to control the elements. Those beings were just as dangerous as the ones who were monstrous in appearance.
The mic squealed overhead, and the whole room froze. Even the air knew to hold still.
“Aaaaare yyyyyou rrrrready?!”
The crowd’s answer hit like a physical wave. Hot breath, stamping feet, and raw animal hunger for violence rolled over me in one deafening roar.
Grinding my teeth, I shut my eyes and hummed under my breath, trying to drown out the deafening mix of voices, footsteps, and pounding heartbeats, but it was no use.
My ears rattled. My body shook. My breath caught as the magic in the air rolled over my skin in shimmering waves, making every nerve spark.
Was being around other supes always going to be like this? Or was it just because there were so damn many packed into one place?
Then a tantalizing scent found me, slicing through the tangled knot of stimuli.
Cool, clean air. Crisp as the first breath at sunrise. Beneath it, a thread of wildflowers, delicate but unshakable, wove through the chaos until it reached me. Then came the last note, honeysuckle—sweet, lingering, curling into my lungs slow and sure like it belonged there.
I froze mid-breath, holding it in as though exhaling might make it vanish.
It didn’t. It grew, subtle and relentless, spilling warmth into my chest until my heartbeat shifted, slower, heavier, hungrier.
Every inhale pulled it deeper so that it settled in my bones, seeping into hollow places I didn’t know were empty until that moment.
The noise of the crowd dulled to nothing. The thrum of magic faded. It was just that scent, steady and certain, pulling me toward its source like it had my name written in it.
Then I looked up.
*The crowd parted, and she stepped through, a woman with a wild, wavy mane of white hair and a smile that made my beast slam into the bars of his cage in my chest.
“It’s now our faaavvvvoooorrrite time of the night!” the announcer bellowed, gesturing to a fighter off to the right. “Our challenger, Brutus Hamersmith, is looking to take a shot at claiming the top spot of the Rossey clan leader!”
The beast inside me lunged to the surface, his focus zeroed in on her. Her head tilted toward the man walking beside her. His face was pinched, brows drawn tight, a stark contrast to her wide, careless smile.
A deep growl crawled up my throat.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
My heartbeat slammed into a harder, faster rhythm. Primal. Hungry. Absolute. I had the sudden, nearly uncontrollable urge to vault over the seats, storm down there, wrap her in my arms, and never let go.
I crushed my grip on the metal seat until it bent, forcing myself to stay put. She shrugged off her jacket, handed it to the man beside her, and turned back to the crowd, arms thrown wide as they roared for her.
She motioned to the announcer, who threw her his mic, then her voice, light, teasing, slid into every corner of the room.
“As you all know, I’m Nova Rossey, the current head of the Rossey clan.”
The name snagged in my mind, followed by a flash of her file, the grainy photo I’d seen at my desk. I’d always stayed out of supe business, but after becoming a cop, the Syndicate’s reach became impossible to ignore, along with the Rossey clan’s role in it.
The crowd erupted at her introduction. She leaned against the ring wall, that hundred-watt smile making the beast inside me salivate. I clenched my jaw.
“Now, I see a couple new faces…” She shielded her eyes, scanning the crowd. Her gaze caught mine for a heartbeat, and my wolf threw himself against my skull, begging to see her, talk to her, shift with her.
No. Not happening. I locked him down. I was in control.
“So, I'll explain,” she continued. “The last fight is usually for the best-known fighters, but here? The last fight is for anyone who wants a shot at leading the Rossey clan.” Her smile sharpened into something dangerous. “You just have to get through me to take it.”
She whirled around to point at a mountain of a man vaulting into the ring. He glared at her like he was already planning to rip her apart. He was three times her size—illegal, if there were any justice in the laws of physics. Even if she was fit and skilled, this guy could snap her in half.
Big wolf. Protect mate.
For once, I agreed with the intruder inside of me.
She was toned in all the right places, her crop top revealing sculpted abs and taut arms. That grin—cocky, playful—made me want in on the joke. Made me want to be in other places.
Wait. She’s a supe. What the hell am I thinking?
“I’ve accepted a challenge from little old Smitty here,” she told the crowd, jerking a thumb at him before pointing outward. “And all of you are witnesses.”
She tossed the mic back to the announcer, cracked her neck, and nodded.
“Alllll riiiigggghhht! On the count of three, the fight begins!”
Panic prickled up my chest as she started swinging her arms loose.
“One!”
The beast paced inside me, back and forth, eyes locked on her.
“Two!”
Her opponent didn’t move, just glared at her with laser-focused hatred.
“Three!”
The first moments were chaos. Both of them shifted in a blink, lunging at each other like missiles. The collision was all teeth and claws. The impact was so hard I could feel a gentle breeze all the way up here.
He became a hulking, black-furred monstrosity, night given form. She was his opposite, pristine moonlight-white fur that was so soft-looking I wanted to know what it felt like under my hands.
In a flash, a splash of crimson slashed across that perfect white fur, and the beast inside me locked up in fear.
Then, like a dam bursting, his thoughts flooded into mine.
He wanted to take control, rip out the black wolf’s throat, and lay it at her feet as an offering.
A plea. A see-me-choose-me gesture to win our mate.
I shook him off and forced him back down, telling him we needed to watch the fight rather than daydream.
As the fight carried on, I realized the black wolf had the size, but her smaller frame gave her speed.
She didn’t charge head-on. She went for pain points, darting in and out.
Smart. It made me think she just might keep her position, though I still couldn’t figure out why she’d risk it at all.
Especially for a woman, it seemed needlessly dangerous.
One second, they were trading blows, her white wolf raking his belly before spinning out of reach, but the next, his stance shifted. Something was coming.
He swiped short with one claw, baiting her, and when she dodged, his other came down fast. She twisted and rolled, avoiding massive damage, but his claws clipped her leg. She turned to hide the injury from him, but that was all it took, just a second, for him to pounce.
The beast in my chest howled, slamming against my self-control, demanding I let him help her. She’s ours.
I gripped the seat harder, staying still. I was here to do a job, not rescue beautiful… I mean, supe females.
I glanced at the man holding her jacket, expecting him to intervene, but he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just kept glaring at her like this was all her fault.
Back in the ring, things were shifting in her opponent’s direction fast. She wasn’t going to last long like this.
I told the beast she’d brought this on herself, trying to convince him that wolfing out at this moment was not a good idea, then a breeze stirred, and I blinked.
Somehow, it took only a split-second for her back legs to become human.
She kicked him off, shifting back mid-movement.
The crowd roared, voices calling for her to shift again. The black wolf staggered, eyes fixed on what he’d just seen, giving her time to shift one hand human then slam her fist into his snout.
“Wow!” a young she-wolf in front of me exclaimed, turning to the older male werewolf beside her. “Dad! How do I do that?”
“Nah, baby, that’s her special power,” he replied. “All the Syndicate leaders have special abilities or insane strength. That’s how they run things. Don’t let their smiles fool you. They’re vicious, and they always win. That’s why there’s no betting this round. It’s just for show—hers and ours.”
It was at that moment I realized how little we actually knew about the Syndicate leaders’ powers. We knew their species and had heard vague rumors, but a werewolf who could shift body parts on demand? Dangerous. Impressive.
The beast inside puffed out his chest. Perfect mate.
I told him to shut it. This was a job, not a love story.
Then Nova fully shifted to human and stalked toward the dazed black wolf, naked as the day she was born. My neck grew hot, but my eyes followed her toned, muscular body as she moved with pure confidence, my heart pounding harder than it should.
She glared down at him. “I was trying to go easy on you, but if you wanted hard mode, you could’ve just asked.” Then she kicked him hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Get the fuck up. Let’s finish this. Give me everything you’ve got.” Her golden-pink eyes blazed.
She gave him space. He staggered upright, wounds stitching back together, breathing like a freight train. He nodded. She smiled.
“Go!”
They clashed again. He was fully human now, but she shifted her fingers into wolf claws, moving faster, sharper, bloodier.
Her strikes were surgical, relentless. That was when I saw it, the enjoyment in her eyes each time she landed a hit.
The crowd fed on it, hungry for more, willing her to tear him apart.
When she slashed deep across his belly, spilling his guts, he dropped to his knees, scrambling to shove them back in before regeneration took over.
The bell rang. She lifted her wolf fists in victory, still naked and mostly human, smiling like this was all casual fun. The crowd went feral, chanting her name as she made a lap around the ring, slapping hands.
Then jacket-man appeared, holding all her clothes, telling her to get out.
Who the hell was he to order her around? The beast inside growled his agreement as she laughed, slipped on her top and bottoms, and waved to the crowd before leaving with him.
I shoved the thought away, forcing my focus toward the human section. Job, remember? They were filing out a side entrance, separate from the supes. I caught a few familiar faces leaving, young punks with worried mothers waiting at home, and made a mental note.
Hands in my jacket pockets, I climbed down the bleachers and headed back to my truck. I was going to need to write a report tonight and submit it to the captain.
Why were the kids here? Why were any humans here? What could they possibly gain that outweighed the risks?
From what I’d seen tonight, I wasn’t going to get any answers by just sitting in the bleachers. I needed to get involved. Go deep undercover. Maybe I could get some of these humans to stay away if I got in deep.
Even though I tried to think about work, I couldn’t shake the image of her white waves of hair, eyes like pink-gold jewels, those bloody claws, and that savage smile. She was one hell of a female.
* Big Dawgs by Hanumankind &Kalmi