Therian Prize: 5 (Therian Heat) (2 page)

“I don’t believe you.” More like she couldn’t allow herself to believe this nonsense or she’d start concocting reasons she needed to visit Aspen.

“Believe what you like. All I know is, if you’re excited by the forbidden, I know one gorgeous cat who’s willing to give you a guided tour.”

Light flickered through the trees off to their right, saving Heather from the awkward conversation. Lexxie spotted the glow a moment later and activated Heather’s window. Music rumbled in the distance, confirming their destination, so Lexxie sent the window gliding back up.

“That’s us,” Lexxie said under her breath as she carefully steered the jeep off the road and worked her way toward the fire.

They emerged in a large clearing, a dilapidated cabin tucked off to one side. It had been many years but Heather had visited the location before, she realized as she looked around. A deep pit had been dug in the middle of the clearing and a large fire burned there now. Vehicles had been parked in rows around the perimeter, creating an uneven border against the trees.

Heather pushed open her door and climbed down from the jeep. The ground gave beneath her boots and the air was surprisingly cool. She glanced up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight, but had it been raining? This felt more like early spring than midsummer.

Laughter and muffled shouts drew her attention to the crowd on the far side of the fire. They weren’t dancing but she couldn’t see what had them so enthralled. And why were there so many? This looked like a multi-pack rally, not an impromptu Howl.

A tall figure broke away from the crowd and hurried toward them. Heather immediately recognized the proud bearing and purposeful strides of her father.

“You’re late.” Nate’s eyes gleamed in the gathering twilight and impatience made his voice snap. Heather had gotten her strawberry-blonde hair from her mother, but her vivid blue eyes and stubbornness came from Nate Fitzroy.

“Did the best I could, sir,” Lexxie replied. “She’s here now. Did we miss anything?”

“Just the first seven rounds.”

Rounds? Tension knotted Heather’s belly and dread washed over her again. She took a step back and her father grabbed her arm, his grip firm, not yet hurtful.

“Don’t even think about it. You’re the guest of honor. Everyone is waiting for you.”

“Is this… You said you’d let me choose.”

“Did you choose?” He drew her closer and his expression became openly hostile. “Tell me your decision now and I’ll stop the competition.”

She had no intention of choosing a mate and they both knew it. “I did as you wished the first time around. This time the choice should be mine.”

“I might agree if Carlos had actually defined you. But he didn’t. Did he?”

Heather froze. The Earth’s rotation seemed to hesitate as the implication sank in. He knew! She couldn’t imagine how he’d figured it out but he obviously knew her secret. “What are you talking about? Of course Carlos defined me. You and Bruce saw my wolf. You know I’m defined.”

“I saw a wolf that night, but I haven’t seen one since. Transform for me now and I’ll end the challenge.”

“This is ridiculous.” She jerked her arm out of his hand and spun around.

He caught her other arm and jerked her back. “I think it was spontaneous. You honestly thought Carlos would kill you, so your Therian nature surged and you shifted into a form more able to defend herself.”

“That’s insane. He defined me, just like
you
wanted him to.” She let bitterness drip off each word, hoping to distract him.

“Then shift. Prove me wrong.”

She glared at him as she scrambled for a new defense. Continued denials were having no effect. “I can’t.”

He grinned but his fingers remained firm around her arm. “I knew it.”

“I watched my brother rip out the throat of the man you’d chosen for my mate moments after that same man tried to rip out my throat. That sort of stays with you. Every time I try to shift, all I see is Carlos’ mutilated body.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed and his fingers tightened, biting into her arm. He leaned closer, inhaling deeply as he asked, “Did Carlos feed you his blood?”

He had in countless nightmares, macabre distortions of already twisted events. She focused on that truth as she said, “Yes. All I have to do is close my eyes and the taste comes back to me. Now end this foolishness.”

For a long, tense moment he stared down at her, analyzing her scent and expression. “If you’re defined then your mate will help you overcome your squeamishness.”

“Not like this.” She tugged against his hand and tears burned in her throat. “Please, Dad, not like this.”

He ignored her objections and dragged her toward the crowd of onlookers. “The challenge is an old and honored tradition. There is no shame in this.”

No, the shame would come when her mate, whoever was brutal and ruthless enough to best the other hunters, claimed her body. He’d force her to the ground and demonstrate his strength and virility while the other competitors cheered him on. She’d seen several such encounters since she was old enough to participate in Howls and each had left her disgusted and nauseated.

“I can’t do this.” She used both hands in an effort to break his hold but he easily restrained her.

“Stop fighting me! You only humiliate yourself. There is no reason for your stubbornness. This is natural, an event to be celebrated.”

“This is barbaric and cruel,” she cried. “I will not be the prize for some twisted blood sport.”

He paused and stared deep into her eyes, a hint of tenderness softening his expression. “You are a treasure I will award to the strongest and most cunning among numerous packs. You should be proud. The turnout for your challenge is unprecedented.” Without another word, he continued his trek toward the crowd, dragging her behind him.

She looked at Lexxie in panicked anger but her friend appeared as upset as Heather.

“I didn’t know about this,” Lexxie insisted. “I swear. He told me it was a Howl.”

“It is a Howl,” Nate objected. “But rather than dancing and fucking, Heather’s mating ceremony will be the entertainment.”

His fingers banded her upper arm, firm, unbreakable. Even if she managed to break free, where would she go? Rather than humiliate herself further by kicking and screaming, Heather walked at his side, chin raised, gaze coolly assessing. He hadn’t exaggerated. The vast majority of attendees were male and many were from other packs.

The crowd parted for them, offering her an unobstructed view of the combatants. Three fights were going on simultaneously, each bout savage and bloody. She crossed her arms over her chest and forced herself to watch. She would not show fear in the face of this madness. She had to remain calm and watch for an opportunity if she hoped to escape.

Escape? Was there really any hope that she could outrun all these men?

“As soon as this round is decided, we’ll be down to the final six,” her father explained. He seemed absorbed by the competition, yet he maintained his hold on her arm. “My money is on Risdon, but Braden Montego is solid too.” He motioned toward two men standing across from them. She recognized James Risdon. The other man was a stranger to her. James was one of her father’s favorites and James had made no secret of his desire for her. Braden was tall and lean with sharp features and pale-green eyes. He stared at her boldly as if he were already undressing her.

One of the combatants screamed and Heather’s attention returned to the fight. The wounded man held his arm against his chest, his hand twisted at an unnatural angle. His opponent smiled with malicious joy and Heather felt sick all over.

“He needs to shift to mend the bone, but he’ll be disqualified if he does,” her father explained, fascination making his eyes gleam. Ignoring the pain, the contestant attempted to continue.

It was all so cruel, so vicious. She started to turn away but her father jerked her back around.

“They’re spilling their blood for you. You can have the decency to watch.”

Decency? Nothing about this was decent.

The winners were declared a short time later and the final six paired off. She tried to calm down, to accept the inevitable. She was a Therian wolf. Her mate needed to be strong and capable. That’s all this was, a demonstration of his strength and…savagery! Blood marred their features and cruel ambition twisted their expressions. They weren’t allowed to shift and still they looked more animal than man.

This might be “an honored tradition” but she found it revolting.

Disgust and fear gave way to desperate purpose. She would not be the prize in this vicious competition. She would not submit to the brutality of men!

Drawing energy deep into her chest, she shut out everything but the hot tingle. All around her men cheered and shouted, calling suggestions to the ones slugging it out in the center. She tuned out the sounds and focused inward. Ever since she transformed six years ago, she’d been able to sense her inner self. She’d tried countless times to transform again but the stakes had never been this high before. If she stayed here she would die, perhaps not physically, but part of her soul would be consumed by the indignities they had planned for her.

Energy coalesced in her abdomen, spinning and twisting into a concentrated ball. Her skin felt tight, painfully confining, and her joints began to ache. Invigorated by her progress, Heather slowly opened her eyes.

Lexxie was the only one not engrossed in the fighting.

Heather felt her eyes burn as the shift took hold deep inside. Yes! It was working.

Lexxie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Don’t.” Her lips formed the word but the sound was swallowed up by the roar of the crowd.

Heather was beyond caution, beyond caring if this made her look weak or embarrassed her father. She would not spend the rest of her life with the winner of this horrendous contest. Her Therian nature had saved her once before. When Carlos threatened her life, it was as if her ancestors rose up and triggered her transformation. This wasn’t a typical shift. This was more elemental, a Therian equivalent of fight or flight.

She surrendered to instinct and allowed her Therian nature to take over. Her wolf tossed her head, anxious and ready to escape. She closed her eyes again as her wolf thrust through her human form. Blinding pain flashed through her being as the shift hit her fast and hard. Nate cried out and grabbed a handful of fur but the rest of her slipped away. Heather spun on her back legs then leapt between two stunned onlookers.

“Stop her!” Nate screamed. “If you catch her you keep her. And claim her any way you like.”

Her father’s horrible words followed her into the surrounding forest. She wasn’t sure where she was going or how she’d survive without her pack. All she knew was her life here was over and she couldn’t look back.

* * * * *

“Give me your keys or I’ll put you in a cab. Either way, you’re not driving home.” Jake Parlain held out his hand expectantly. The inebriated frat boy glared and his girlfriend giggled. The downside of owning a bar was dealing with drunks. Long ago Jake had accepted the reality. He couldn’t stop every irresponsible customer but he would never turn a blind eye to those he noticed. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked the girlfriend.

“I don’t drink. Alcohol makes me sleepy.” She scrunched up her surgically perfected nose and smoothed down the ultra-short skirt of her clingy dress. “Besides, it’s fattening.”

“Are you headed to the same place? I don’t want you to reach your place then let him take over behind the wheel.”

“We live together but he doesn’t trust me with his Porsche,” the pretty brunette told him in a conspirator’s whisper.

“He should have thought about that before he started slamming whiskey shots,” Jake returned with a wink.

“I’m a better driver drunk than she is sober,” the young man grumbled.

“Maybe, but we’re not going to find out tonight.” Jake snatched the keys out of the young man’s hands and tossed them to the girlfriend. “Be careful. You don’t want to come between a man and his sports car.”

“Unless you’re bent over the hood.” The drunk laughed loudly and slapped his leg.

“Let’s go, Gary. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough for one night.”

The couple staggered out, frat boy’s arm draped over his girlfriend’s shoulders. Jake just shook his head and looked around the empty tavern. Closing time was still forty minutes away but Kelly, the waitress, was already turning up chairs and her fiancé, the bartender, was balancing the register. Jake wasn’t concerned by the trickle of customers. Aspen was a ski town. Summers were always slow.

“That was nicely done.”

The comment drew his attention to the doorway beside the antique bar. His sister Enya stood there in jeans and a t-shirt. She’d changed out of her “work” clothes, which generally consisted of low-necked tops and short skirts. Jake frequently accused her of using her assets to attract customers but it was hard to argue with the results. In the three years since Enya had taken over management of the bar, Toulouse Tavern had become a hip, modern hangout rather than the stodgy pub their parents had left behind.

Three weeks before Jake’s twenty-second birthday, their parents—along with six others—were killed in an explosion. There had been rumors of foul play but an in-depth investigation proved that an aging gas line had ruptured and no one was to blame.