Chapter 19
19
O ctavia
This can’t be happening.
What is that asshole, Tank, doing?
Why is he doing this?
There was a plan. It was supposed to buy us time. It’s falling apart at the seams. I watch him parade around. It makes me sick to see his erection. Not only that, it’s dripping with semen.
“No one. Not even you, Creed? Come, wife.” He looks at me, and Creed snarls again.
I look at him, noting that he is bigger, taller, more muscular. His eyes are slitted like those of a dragon. His skin is covered in scales. His teeth are sharp, and smoke wafts from his mouth when he growls at Tank.
“Last chance,” Tank yells. “What about you, Pyro? You’re a strong male. Maybe you can beat me.” He grins, making it clear that he doesn’t think it possible.
Pyro looks over at me; he has that same disappointed look as before. He sighs, shaking his head. “No. Not today, but I will stay until there is a victor.”
Shit!
I was the one who told Pyro not to take on Tank. The selfish part of me feels like an idiot; the other part would have hated to see Pyro lose and die. That’s what would have happened. Pyro is big and strong but no match for such evil.
Tank laughs. “You’re a coward. You’re all cowards.”
“I will fight you.” A man steps up who is shorter than Tank, but also more muscular. He has a bushy black beard and thick chest hair, unlike most of the shifters, who are relatively hair-free…at least on their chests.
The two men shift into their dragon forms. The newcomer dragon has sharp, curved spines along his back. He is a mustard color, which must be rare. He also has red speckles all over his torso. He roars, showing extra-long fangs.
Maybe he has a chance.
“What is Tank doing? I’m scared, Creed.” It doesn’t bother me that he is halfway to shifted. That he looks angry. That every muscle is bunched.
He makes a soft purring noise that is meant to soothe. It doesn’t. Creed puts an arm around me. It’s heavier than it felt previously. The heaviness subsides somewhat, and I realize that he is shifting back to more of a human form.
“Why is this happening?” I ask as the two dragons size each other up. Any second now, they will come to blows. “Why is he doing this?”
“Tank knows.” Creed says it so softly that I almost can’t make it out.
Knows.
Knows what?
My blood seizes in my veins when I realize. Tank must know that Creed is injured. He doesn’t want to give him time to heal. He wants to fight Creed now…today, as soon as possible, because that would give him the best chance of winning.
I shake my head. “No,” I whisper. From the dark look in Creed’s eyes, I know that he doesn’t hold much hope for himself. The only chance we have is if this unknown dragon somehow wins. That the bouts continue so that Creed can have a chance to recover. Otherwise…
A loud roar draws my attention back to the field.
The two dragons come together; their bodies collide with a thunderous crash. Fire, smoke, and sparks fill the air. Claws rake, teeth bite, and flames lick. For a short while, it seems like they might be evenly matched. Then Tank lets loose with a powerful blast of flames. The newcomer dragon tries to retaliate. Then, he tries harder to get out of the way. I don’t think he is prepared for the sheer force and heat of the fire.
I can feel it on my skin, and I’m quite far away. It’s hot, almost blistering. It makes me shrink away. I gag when I smell burning flesh.
The mustard dragon is quickly turning black as he burns. He roars in agony and in rage. He leaps at Tank, not giving up. Unfortunately, he is badly burned and weakened. Of course, Tank takes full advantage. He dodges the male’s claws and strikes with his own, avoiding the mustard dragon’s flames and counterattacking with his barbed tail. Tank has a sharp barb that pierces the mustard dragon’s blackened chest. Tank roars. It sounds like a victory cry to me. I hold my breath. Both dragons stand there. The newcomer looks shocked but fine.
What is going on?
I don’t get it.
Then Tank withdraws his barb, and blood sprays. Tank pierced his heart. Seconds later, the newcomer collapses. He tries to get up, flailing in his own blood, which is coming out like a river.
“His scaly armor was weakened by the flames,” Creed explains in a defeated tone. “That’s how Tank pierced his heart. A clever move.”
The dragon soon lies still and shifts back into a burned and bloodied man. A very dead man.
I grab my chest, trying to hold back a sob. I won’t give Tank the satisfaction.
The monstrous black dragon shifts. Tank holds his fists in the air and roars. He puts on a show all over again, parading around. “I am the strongest, quickest male here. I have the hottest flame. The sharpest claws. Bring me the female…unless the champion wishes to fight me.”
At least ten of the men shift and fly away. Tank roars with laughter, even patting his thigh with a meaty hand. “No! What about you?” he growls at a muscular guy with shaggy brown hair. The guy shakes his head, and Tank laughs harder. “No! What about you?” he asks another man who is covered in tattoos. He shifts and flies away. “No takers. It looks like it is you and me.” Tank looks at Creed, turning serious. “Do you still want to fight, or are you going to hand her over? I suggest the latter. I’m looking forward to tight human pussy.” He palms his erection, making more wet dribble out.
I’m disgusted and afraid. So incredibly afraid. I taste bile. I feel like throwing up, but I don’t. I pull myself together. “Leave,” I tell Creed. “You should go.”
“Listen to the human,” Tank growls; his grin is back.
“Can you butt out?” I shout at Tank. “I’m not talking to you.”
“I love a feisty female. I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”
I throw him a middle finger, and he laughs. I hate him. Tank had better hope that he doesn’t win because I’ll kill him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but he will die.
“I’m not leaving you,” Creed says, his voice urgent.
“You must,” I whisper.
“What’s this? Don’t you believe in your champion?” Tank laughs. It’s a nasty sneer.
“I do believe in you.” I take Creed’s hands. “You know I do.”
“I’m not leaving.” He leans in and whispers straight into my ear. “I have to try.”
“You’ll die,” I mouth. “You can’t…not now.” I’m on the verge of tears. I sniff, swallowing down the fear. It isn’t for me. Not right now, it isn’t. “Please,” I beg in a soft, choked voice. “Just until you…you can come back for me.” Until he is well again. Whole again. Until his ribs are healed and he stands a chance.
“He’ll hurt you, Octavia. He’ll hurt you in the worst of ways. He’ll impregnate you.”
“I don’t care. Not if it means you’ll survive. I need you to live,” I choke out. “Please.” I wish he’d listen.
He shakes his head, and I know he isn’t listening. Then he leans in and kisses me. He kisses me like he’s saying goodbye. Like he’s asking for forgiveness. Like he might just feel something for me. I grab hold of him and kiss him back with a hunger I didn’t know I had inside me. I dig my hands in his hair. I drag him closer. For a few seconds, I forget about everything but him…but us.
He pulls away, his eyes intense and on mine.
I’m panting a little. I’m begging him not to do it. My eyes are stinging with unshed tears.
Please. No!
“As touching as this is, we haven’t got all damned day,” Tank barks.
Creed turns to face Tank. “I’m ready.” He sounds fierce. He looks it, too. He looks angry and mean. He looks like he might have a chance. I wish to god he didn’t have broken ribs. If it weren’t for the ribs, he might just stand a chance.
I pray for a miracle, even though I know it’s unlikely to come.