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Dodging Baatar, Rory moved around the titanium-barred enclosure, heaving deep breaths. Even in human form, Siofra’s adopted brother would have crushed a non-Gallize shifter by now.
If Baatar turned out to be a Gallize, it would explain the load of power Rory could tell the guy struggled to handle. It also explained the crazed look in Baatar’s eyes. That power and a tiger he couldn’t release were tearing him apart.
Rory struggled to keep Ferrell locked inside with his beast just as crazed over Siofra being caged.
Tripoli kept screaming for Rory to shift.
Ferrell roared for the same thing.
Baatar ignored it all, determined to destroy Rory.
When Rory couldn’t imagine anything worse, he heard a new roar at the gate.
The Sumatran tiger shifter had been brought to the party and that bastard had already begun shifting in spite of a titanium cuff around his neck.
Muscles bulged around the cuff.
Baatar spared a glance at the tiger, but didn’t back off a step.
Shit. Now Rory had to protect Baatar while defending himself. He called up his jaguar. Ferrell’s need to get out rushed the shift. His muscles tensed and twisted.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Baatar forget about the tiger as soon as he realized Rory was changing, the most vulnerable moment for a shifter.
But as Baatar swung a huge fist, the strike landed on the shoulder of Rory’s jaguar. Ferrell swung around and snapped at Baatar’s head, backing him off.
Rory told Ferrell, Don’t kill the man. He is our mate’s brother.
Ferrell needed a target right fucking now. Rory gave him one. Protect Siofra’s brother from the tiger.
The guard shoved the insane shifter into the hole and locked the cage as a massive Sumatran tiger clawed its way out of the man.
Baatar watched both of them and chose to run at Ferrell even though the tiger had not fully changed, damn him.
Ferrell leaped out of the way of Baatar’s charge and slammed the almost-shifted tiger into the wall of bars. Rory’s animal had never killed a shifter or animal when it was defenseless, but Ferrell believed everyone here was a threat to Siofra.
His jaguar was spot-on and Rory would leave him off the leash as long as he didn’t harm Baatar.
Tripoli shouted, “Only the last one standing walks out.”
As if Rory would pay attention to that lunatic right now?
Even if Rory walked out of here, Tripoli would claim a greater prize than any in his inventory. He wouldn’t know he had a Gallize, but he’d be happy to have captured the elusive Adalbert Wauters and his animal revealed.
He’d auction Rory to the highest bidder.
That would happen only if Rory didn’t take him apart first.
Ferrell roared and sent a string of constant words to Rory. Kill wolf. Kill tiger. Kill fox. Save Mate. Then more crazy mangled sounds.
Those cheering above them were safe only as long as the cage held Ferrell. His jaguar snarled and stalked around, taking in the threats.
The tiger roared to life and lunged at Ferrell, who met him midair. Teeth and claws gnashed. Pain ripped through Rory, but his jaguar never backed away.
Ferrell didn’t know the meaning of quit.
At least Baatar had moved to the side and watched, no doubt waiting to let the two cats tear each other apart, which would benefit him.
Tripoli’s men shouted and pumped their fists when the tiger took Rory’s jaguar to the ground.
Not Tripoli. He was furious, screaming for Baatar to shift.
Vicious clawing and jaws ripping at bodies went on for a minute then the tiger gouged Ferrell’s shoulder. Rory’s jaguar laid on his side, breathing hard, and tried to get up, but the jaguar’s wounds were seeping blood. Not healing.
Ferrell had inflicted plenty of damage on the tiger, too. Blood ran into its eyes. The tiger shook his head as if trying to clear its vision and reorient.
Not for long. With Ferrell still able to bite and claw, but not on his feet yet, the tiger turned to Baatar and roared at the easy opponent.
It could have been an overload of adrenaline or just the need to protect someone who mattered to their mate, but when the tiger headed for Baatar, Ferrell leaped up and landed on top of the tiger.
The cage door opened and a shifter Rory had not seen entered. He had a head of bushy blond hair and angry, orange-brown eyes.
The tiger struggled to get Ferrell off its back and snapped huge jaws at his jaguar, claiming Rory’s attention.
Ferrell caught the tiger across the back of its neck and held on, but he’d need the underside for any hope of ripping out muscle.
A new thundering roar unlike any Rory had heard from a shifter filled the air as the tiger rolled hard to his back to unload Ferrell. The move worked.
Rory’s jaguar barely escaped his stomach being clawed open when the tiger whipped around to face the new threat.
Fucking Tripoli had sent a lion in.
Rory’s jaguar looked up at Tripoli, who grinned. The bounty hunter said, “Everyone shifts ... or dies.”
