Bright lights pierced my eyes when we moved into another room. Wet curls of hair stuck to my face, and I fought against my screaming retinas so I could get a look at my surroundings. The room itself was dark except for the bright light straight ahead.
Terror swept over me when soft applause filled the silence of the room. Through my lashes, I saw a raised platform, similar to a boxing ring. Except it was a cage with shiny, narrow bars all around and across the top. Seeing that incited a visceral reaction in me, and I arched my back as far as I could and bit the guard’s bristly jaw.
He shouted in pain, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. When his grip loosened, I spun around and punched him in the jaw. He tried to grab my chain, but I ducked and gave him an uppercut right in the groin. He fell to the ground like a bag of concrete, but my victory was short-lived when the chain yanked me onto my back.
Another soft applause erupted from all around, like the sound of gentle waves lapping against a shore. It sent chills up my spine, and that’s when I began to pull the world into focus. All around in the dark perimeter of the room were chairs filled with spectators. Men in suits. Men with cigars and glasses of whiskey or cognac. Some looked on with interest while others were making notes in little books.
The chain pulled and the guard led me up a small set of steps to an open door where he pushed me inside and slammed it. Before I could turn around, he pulled the slack on the chain until my back was against the bars.
Oh sweet Mary, no.
Wheeler stood on the opposite side of the cage with his right arm pulled through the bars—a chain shackled to his wrist. They had stripped him out of his shirt and shoes, but he didn’t look hurt. I only saw his profile, but I didn’t like his despondent demeanor, and his eyes were sullen and downcast.
My heart raced at a wicked beat, and I searched the room for a face. All I saw was darkness and faint silhouettes—ghostly images of men hiding in the shadows and watching with anticipation. Bright lights illuminated the cage, making it seem as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Footsteps approached from my left. While I didn’t recognize the man, I immediately knew who it was when he began speaking, his tone friendly but controlled.
“Gentlemen, I have a treat for you this evening. Please use the devices you’ve been provided to place your bets. In the left-hand corner, we have a legend among legends. He’s been out of the circuit for almost two decades and is a returning champion. Strong. Powerful. Deadly. This Shifter is a wolf, but not just any wolf. He’s undefeated against any animal—including panthers. He’s fought them in both animal and human form. Those of you who aren’t familiar with his face will certainly recognize the name Striker.”
The crowd murmured and Delgado let them settle down before continuing.
“In our right-hand corner is something we don’t have the privilege of seeing very often in this day and age. Here we have a woman with fight, as most of you just saw,” he said with a chuckle. “Stripper by night, and she shares her body with a black panther. Jaguar, to be specific. I’ve personally seen her animal and it… is… exquisite. At least two hundred pounds of solid muscle.”
Colored lights blinked in the darkness, presumably from whatever devices Delgado had given them to place their bets with.
“As a reminder of the rules, you may change your bet at any time until the chains are released. Once that happens, your devices will be disabled and there’s no going back. Take a moment to consider your wager, and remember the minimum bet requirement. If you can’t meet that minimum, then I’ll ask you to leave the room. The price for watching without betting is two thousand. And as a generous offer, should the panther be the victor of this match, I will hold an auction. One lucky bidder will have time alone with our lovely lady in private quarters for the entirety of the evening. This is going to be a spectacular show, gentlemen. Place your bets.”
My eyes widened as I looked at Wheeler. I wanted to speak, but the cold shackle around my neck was biting into my skin and making me dizzy.
“Ease up on that,” Delgado said in a tight voice.
The chain loosened and blood returned to my head.
Delgado approached the cage from behind me and I looked to the left. He smelled like cigarettes.
“My apologies for the unnecessary force on your restraints. Wouldn’t want you going in at a disadvantage,” he said. “Sorry we haven’t formally met, but these things happen for a reason. I’m a strong believer in fate. Are you?”
If I had eaten anything, it would have already been all over the floor.
“Please don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Let him go.”
“Him?” he asked with surprise. “Not you?”