Claiming His Chance (5 page)

I
snuck
into the gym after Trinity, doing my best not to look her way. Something was wrong in her life, something that scared her. I saw it in her eyes. Felt it in the way she clung to me. I wanted to be the one to help her, but instead, she went to Piers. The guy who currently had his arm wrapped around her.

What the hell was going on?

I couldn’t understand the situation I found myself in. Mating bonds were sacred, blessings from the gods and creators. I’d seen them go wrong and I’d seen mated pairs unhappy, but I’d never seen a mate choose someone other than their match. It just wasn’t done. And yet there was Trinity, ignoring me and letting Piers wrap himself around her like some sort of shifter blanket. Just the fact that her fingers were clutching the back of his shirt made me see red, and the fucking pheromone cocktail in the air wasn’t helping. I took a deep breath, tamping down the fire within. Calm, I needed to find my calm.

But because I was apparently a masochist when it came to Trinity, I edged closer, just enough to listen to the conversation. I had to know, had to figure her out. I needed to understand why she was so committed to the bastard at her side when I knew she felt the mating pull as I did. She’d shivered in my arms, had responded to my kiss with her entire body. She wanted me, but she refused to let herself take what she wanted. There had to be an explanation.

As I watched, another shifter leaned over Trinity, sniffing her. My wolf howled in my head, ready to attack the man he saw as a threat. I reined in my animal side and slipped closer, edging along one of the stainless-steel tables used to hold water and tapes, needing to hear what the bastard said. Wanting to be close in case she needed my protection.

I missed the first bit, barely hearing what seemed to be a question. But then I moved closer, and the fucker asked Trinity something again.

“When’s my turn?”

My roar was loud enough to turn a few heads. Unwilling to rush in and start swinging in case I scared her again, I grabbed the closest thing I could—the metal table. I upended it with ease, creating enough of a racket to turn everyone’s heads, including Trinity, Piers, and the fucker who dared to proposition her. If I couldn’t jump to her defense, I could at least make enough noise to distract the fucker. I made sure to memorize his face, then turned and stalked off. Trinity was protecting Piers from something; well, he’d better be man enough to protect her as well since I couldn’t. At least not yet.

“Yo, Appalachia.”

I spun toward one of the handlers, ready to rip body parts off if necessary. Doing so gave me the perfect shot of Trinity…walking down a hallway toward the sleeping bunks with Piers. At least that other fucker wasn’t near her anymore.

“What?” My word came out on a snarl, so I coughed, hoping the guy would think I had a dry throat or something. “Sorry. What do you need?”

“Against my better judgment, the powers that be want to put you in the ring tonight.” The handler looked me up and down, assessing, probably worried I was about to snap. “You think you’re ready to fight yet?”

I looked down the hallway again, no longer seeing Piers and Trinity. They were probably tucked in a room together. Alone.

My shoulders sank, defeat and confusion a heavy burden to bear. One I had no idea how to cope with.

“Yeah, I’m ready to get this over with.”

T
he arena
where the fights were held in front of human crowds was huge. A ring with metal fencing all the way to the ceiling sat in the middle with a small walkway of concrete around it. Then came the stands. They rose from the floor almost to the roof on all four sides. Rows upon rows of wooden benches for the humans to sit on. Not that any of them was. Sitting, that is.

When the handler led me into the room, the crowd was on its feet. The room was packed full of humans, and all of them were here to watch us fight, not knowing the supernatural side of the men they cheered for. The sound of their screams nearly deafened me, made me want to shift, to prepare to defend myself. I fought it back, but it took a lot more of my focus than I’d expected. The smell, the energy, the noise—they all melded together to create an environment that drove my wolf mad. With every step closer to the chaos, my control slipped, and I had to divert my attention to yank it back into place. There was no way this could end well.

“There’re only two rules here, kid,” the handler said as we waited for the signal to take the ring.

“What’s that?” I bounced on the balls of my feet, keeping my blood flowing, throwing my arms out loosely every few bounces.

“Don’t shift, and do your best not to kill your opponent.”

That stopped me cold. “Do my
best
?”

The handler shrugged. “It happens. Even we can’t heal if our heart stops or we lose all our blood too fast to replenish it.”

I shuddered and shook my head, resuming my warm-up bounces. But my head wasn’t in it. Bleed outs…that’s how those fuckers who’d attacked our pack had killed so many. That’s how they’d murdered my sisters. A claw to the throat was all it took, a half-assed beheading, really. Both the girls had been facedown in the mud, left in pools of their own blood like trash on the side of the road. As much as I wanted to win so I could get back home, I couldn’t see doing that to someone. In self-defense? Sure. To avenge my sisters and my pack? Absolutely, already done it. But for sport? No. I wasn’t that fucking crazy.

The crowd roared louder, apparently happy with the end of the first fight. I couldn’t tell who’d won or lost, as both shifters seemed to need assistance to leave the ring.

The handler turned to me, double-checking my hand wraps as he spoke. “Your opponent’s mean but not quite as big as you. Use your size to your advantage, stay light, and give them a good show. You’ll be fine.”

I nodded, following him down the walkway as the announcer screamed my name over the loudspeaker. Well, my name for here.

“In black, we have one of our newest cage fighters. He’s a beast, an animal raised in the wild and brought up on good, clean, mountain air. Give a welcome to…Appalachia!”

I scowled as I set my mouthguard. Idiots. These humans were practically salivating at the chance to watch us fight, throwing money around as if it were nothing. I pictured my home, my pack, the sad faces and air of mourning that covered us. The grief we’d experienced over the last year. We needed to pay off the security team, and I needed to go home to help my friends heal. To give myself time to grieve the loss of my family. That had to be my focus. Them…not me. And definitely not Trinity. Though that would be hard considering she was sitting in the third row with that motherfucker Piers draped all over her again.

My mountains…my pack…my grief…not my mate. Not my one chance at something more.

My opponent stepped into the ring looking tough and ready. And wouldn’t you know, it was the guy who’d propositioned Trinity earlier in the day. That didn’t bode well for me keeping my control, not shifting, and not killing him. Not well at all. I could feel the energy coming off him, the rage and the aggression. He was completely pumped up, something that worked in my favor. I’d let him wear himself out coming after me and wait for a time to knock him down. Easy enough. Just avoid being hit...and
do my best
not to kill him.

The second the bell rang to start the fight, the guy in the ring came out swinging as I knew he’d do. One punch, two, six…he was wild in his movements and his attack. Chasing me around the ring, using up all his energy trying to keep up with my dodges. Meanwhile, I feinted and hopped, staying light, moving simply.
Eyes on him, always eyes on him, watch his arms, the motion comes from the shoulder, don’t let him win because you blinked.
Killian’s words stayed in my head, all the times we’d sparred and fought having taught me a number of lessons. I didn’t need to be the biggest, the baddest, or the toughest. I just needed to be the smartest and have more endurance than my opponent. With the way this guy was rushing hard at me, that wouldn’t be a problem.

On a turn around the backside of the arena, Trinity caught my eye. I tried to refocus, but there was something in the expression on her face, something sad and scared that snagged my attention. It was a moment, barely more than a second. A tiny spot of time shared between Trinity and me as hundreds of people screamed for blood.

And then Piers broke our stare by leaning over Trinity and…

Was he kissing my fucking mate right in front of me?

I
kept
my hands clasped in my lap as my eyes followed Cahill around the ring. He wasn’t attacking in any way. Instead, he moved and dodged his opponent’s punches, simply avoiding being hit. Bouncing back and forth, weaving around the other fighter. It was a beautiful display of his athleticism, and yet terrifying.

“He’s so fucking smart.” Piers sounded impressed, so I leaned closer, trying to hide my knowledge and interest.

“Who?”

“That guy…Appalachia. He’s running on defense right now, letting that fighter Asylum wear himself out. I’ve seen him hit—the guy’s a beast and could have knocked his opponent to the floor already, but instead, he’s waiting. The bosses are going to love him.”

“Why would they love him?” I glanced at Piers for a split second, too worried about Cahill to turn away for any longer. Piers was completely focused on the fight, his eyes dark, an expression close to obsession on his chiseled face.

“The bosses like longer fights, remember?”

I did remember. Longer fights…more money...more blood. I bit my lip, wishing Cahill would hit the other guy already to end this. “Well, I hate them.”

He leaned over me, his lips close enough to mine for me to practically breathe his words. “What’s got you all nervous, Trin?”

Before I could answer, the crowd roared. Piers spun away, allowing me to watch as Cahill leaped across the ring. He raged at his opponent, quickly throwing three fierce hits before the other man seemed to know what was going on. Asylum fell to the floor like a rag doll, unconscious. The crowd screamed and stomped their feet, all excited over the violence. Over the blood.

The whole spectacle made me sick.

Cahill stood in the center of the ring, breathing hard, staring down at his opponent. His handler rushed to him, grabbing his arm and holding it up in triumph. Cahill didn’t react, barely moved. But his eyes found mine. Darted to Piers then came back again. My heart stuttered at his tormented expression. Pain and confusion—and so much anger. I knew what was in his head, knew what had made his switch flip. And it was my fault. All my fault. He didn’t understand about Piers, and he needed to. This charade couldn’t last for much longer.

Piers leaned closer, but instead of curling into his side as I’d always done, I pulled away. I couldn’t pretend…not with Cahill watching me. Not knowing how much my actions hurt him.

“What’s up, Trin?” Piers asked.

I shook my head, my eyes still locked on Cahill. On my mate. “We need to talk, but not here.”

The tension around us increased. I could feel Piers’ stare burning my cheek, but I didn’t care. Cahill needed my attention. He needed to know what was happening. He needed me, but there was nothing I could do. Not without risking everything.

Piers stood and grabbed my hand, pulling me after him without another word.

“Where are we going?” I asked, finally losing sight of Cahill.

“Somewhere not here.” He gave me a concerned look over his shoulder before yanking me behind him. I caught one more glance of Cahill before we exited the arena and headed for the bunk rooms. My mate stood in the cage a champion but looking completely enraged. He must have thought I was leaving him, but my trek to him was only just beginning. This was it. Time to make my move. Time to break character.

When we reached the door to our room, Piers held it open for me. I walked into the space we’d shared for the past few weeks, pacing the length of it. Wringing my hands.

“Tell me,” Piers said as he leaned against the dresser in the corner.

I shook my head, my eyes burning. Shit, this was such a mess. But I couldn’t live the lie anymore, not after I saw…not after I knew.

“Trin, we don’t keep secrets. We trust each other, remember? Only us…always us. Together,” Piers said. His words hit me hard, almost knocking the wind out of me.
Together. Only us.
The words we’d said to one another a thousand times. The ones we’d whispered as we’d run from the only home we’d ever known. As we’d left behind the hate brewing against us.

I stopped pacing, turning his way, meeting his wary eyes with my watery ones.

He frowned. “What is it?”

“That guy…the fighter who won.”

“Appalachia. The new guy. What about him?”

I stepped closer, too afraid to say anything out loud. Knowing this was a moment that could destroy what we had. When I was close enough to touch him, I rested my hands on his shoulders and leaned into him, brushing my lips against his ear so I could whisper my truth.

“He’s my fated mate.”

Piers went stiff under my hands. I stepped back, watching him. Waiting for some sign of his emotion. Would he be angry? Sad? Betrayed? Happy for me? I had no idea. We’d been together for so long in our current situation that it wasn’t anything I usually thought about. It simply was. But now… Now, we needed to think. Things needed to change.

Piers stared at the floor, his brow furrowed, silent. And then he raised his eyes to meet mine.

“You need to go. You don’t have much time.”