by Lea Jade
Raging Moon
A Broken Bad Boy Shifter Romance Book One
Lea Jade
Black Jade Publishing
Contents
Mailing List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Thank You & Free Teaser
Sneak Peek: Royally Charmed
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Mailing List
About the Author
Raging Moon
Copyright © October 2019 by Lea Jade
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this publication only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the copyright holder’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published in the United Kingdom by
Black Jade Publishing Ltd.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
Jake
I smell her fear.
She’s watching me again.
I stand in the corner, fists clenched, ready to fight as her eyes rove over me—the way she does when thinks I’m not looking, taking in my naked, sweat-soaked flesh, studying every plane and angle of slick, solid muscle. Even though I’m all hot and bothered from being under the spotlights too long, I can hear her praying under her breath, asking the gods to protect me.
Not that I need protecting.
And since when did she start worrying about my safety? A couple of weeks ago maybe. No, longer than that. Since the first time I spoke to her, about a week after she started working at the club. I noticed her well before then of course. Before she even glanced my way. Wearing a short, tight, little number, flaunting herself at the twins.
Sure, she was going to get the job. Who wouldn’t want to hire her? She’s a stunner. All dark eyed and mysterious, with luscious cherry-red lips and cascades of long, silky, jet-black hair. A body to worship and die for.
Damn. I shouldn’t think about that now. I should focus. Considering what’s about to happen.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes are on me. Degenerates from all walks of life eyeballing me from their lofty status above the steel-caged octogen I’m locked up in. All cheering, spitting and howling for the kill.
For my kill.
And I’ll give them what they want, their pound of flesh. Not that I’ll enjoy it much. Though, if it isn’t me who does the slaughtering it’ll sure as hell be the other guy. The one who’s eyeing me from across the ring right now, stamping and strutting like a bull about to disembowel a matador.
He should be so lucky.
As if he could be the one to take me down. The chosen one where all others have failed. If looks could kill, maybe… No joke, the guy is glaring at me so hard he looks like he might shit himself.
My wolf growls and snaps back, pacing the mental enclosure I’ve stuffed him into. I can’t let him out yet, if I do, he’ll rip that guy to shreds before the first bell and then the fight would be over.
I can’t let that happen too early.
The twins, Eric and Xavier Lexington wouldn’t like that. Every fight needs to be good. Every drop of blood earned. The night needs to last and look convincing or the punters will demand their money back. And no one hates refunding customers more than the infamous ‘Bloodbath Brothers’, dragon shifter twins so named for their fondness of illegal blood sports and violent gambling rackets. The bastards.
I’ve honestly no idea how I ended up fighting for them. They own me. Or at least they think they do. But I don’t mind this game we play, where I beat the shit out of some upstart, and we reap the rewards equally. One day I’ll take my leave, but for now the arrangement suits me fine. It’s not like I’ve anywhere better to be. And my wolf was born for the ring, that much I know.
The crowd heckles as tension mounts, and my nose and mouth curl up into a tight snarl. I’m losing focus again. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. Shutting out the chaos. Calming my raging beast.
Easy now.
Soon we’ll have him.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the fight you’ve all been waiting for. The biggest and bloodiest brawl of the night.” A voice rings out overhead at last. “Are you ready to see hell unleashed before your very eyes?”
The throb of the crowd explodes from above, dying out only as the announcer continues. “Our newest challenger all the way from Boston. A grizzly shifter with claws of black iron, known to his comrades as the fierce and merciless Heart Breaker! Ira Grey DeSilver!”
Some preppy jackass with a double-barreled name. Great.
As always, this moment of anticipation, between the bell ringing and the unleashing of my fury, feels fucking endless. Fates alive, I hate waiting. There’s some cheering for my opponent, but mostly they boo as he bellows and bounces around the pit.
He sweeps by me. With my eyes still closed, I sense and smell him almost too close. A musky aroma that has the hairs on the back of my neck bristling. I keep my eyes shut. I don’t need to see him or the crowd, or anything else until it’s on. And it will be soon.
“And in this corner, the powerful, unstoppable, and reigning champion of the East Side Pit. Our very own bare-knuckle wonder, Jake Archer, The Raging Wolf!”
The crowd goes wild—a sound I must admit never gets old. They chant my name over and over and I permit myself a sliver of a grin. It won’t be long now.
“Does our newcomer stand a chance against our ferocious, blue-eyed wolf? Will this be the match that finally sees the King of the Cage brought down? Or will the demonic Heart Breaker leave bloodied and broken?” The announcer pauses, as the air around the ring becomes electric. “Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for blood? Then let’s get ready tooo rumble!”
I scent the ref as he comes forward, like he always does right before the start. Not in the cage with us but walking steadily around it, making one last check. My eyes are still closed but I know the moment he stops walking.
“Alright boys, you know the drill. Anything goes once the bell rings or until one of you gives up. Do not try anything between rounds or I’ll tear you down where you stand, got it?” I sigh and hiss a yes, but the other guy doesn’t say a word. “You. Noddy boy, I need to hear you say ‘yes’ or get the hell out of my ring.”
“Yeah. I get it.”
“Ok good, we’re ready to go in three, two, one–”
I open my eyes.
The
sound of a bell makes the bars behind me reverberate against my spine as I step away. The crowd jeers and their shouts become louder, hollering at me to ‘take him down’ or ‘crucify him’. But I wait while my flashy opponent dances toward me fists raised, claws out already like a rookie, and grinning like a moron.
It’ll be almost too easy to take him down.
All at once he moves, swiping talons with lightning speed.
It takes the barest step left to dodge him. And then he’s back again, gunning for me. I dodge every blow, right then left. I don’t even need to raise my fists. He follows me around the cage like a pathetic puppy, barking to keep up.
Then I take a shot. No claws for me, just my knuckles in his face.
I hit home.
There’s a crack of bone and a spray of red as I slug him just right. The copper tang of salt and iron fills my nostrils causing my wolf to grunt. I lick the blood off my lips and then go in low and hard, up close for a few calculated strikes and then out again. No blood drawn but just as devastating.
The crowd love it.
So does she.
Her scent is spiky now and there’s a faint sweetness to it. If I’m not mistaken, she’s aroused. But I dare not look at her; I wouldn’t be able to control my beast. He’s raging, throwing himself against the mental bars inside my head. She’s the first female to have my human form and my wolf interested. Keeping us in check during the fight is going to be twice as hard. We’ve been panting after her for weeks.
A few rounds in and my opponent’s claws are still kissing air, missing me over and over. He’s getting sloppy. Not much of technical fighter. Going ten rounds with this clowndick is going to be a bore and ball-ache. I’m just getting warmed up, teasing the hell out of this guy and flirting with him when I sense it. A stillness in the crowd that wasn’t there before. A shadow.
On the catwalk above between rounds, ring-girls parade next to a private viewing platform nestled in the scaffolding. I find my gaze drawn up there to see Xav observing me with blank eyes.
I’m surprised to see him, but he must have just arrived. The older twin isn’t one to come to The Pit often, preferring to leave the hands-on business side of things to his younger brother, Eric, instead. I crease my lips into my usual trademark smirk, but the bastard just stares intently, the corners of his mouth curling downward. No doubt displeased with how the fight is going.
If I keep on pounding this guy, he’s going to shift early and then all bets are off. I can’t control my wolf, it’s what I’m known for. And despite their whoops and cheers, I’m not giving the crowd what they really want either. They want more blood, a lot more blood. And not my opponent’s—they want mine.
The other option is to let this douche-bag grizzly pummel me for a bit, but my damned wolf isn’t going to like losing. Especially if our female is watching.
Our female? Where the fuck did that come from?
But, next round I’m slower, enough to let the grizzly slice into my shoulder and side a few times. No too deep, but enough to make it messy.
I hear her gasp.
I have to grit my teeth as my wolf snaps at me for control. But this is what I’m supposed to do. Let the moron win a few and he’ll keep coming back for more. A few blows to the head and I’m leaning against the cage bars, scanning the crowd for her. Dark eyes full of terror, she meets my unfocused gaze for a split second. And then something inside me clicks. I can’t hold back any longer, it’s been eight fucking rounds already.
I look up to see if Xavier will give me the nod, a sure sign to finish this guy, but he doesn’t move. The bastard just sits there stiff like a statue. Why is he drawing this out? What’s so damned special about this fight?
Behind me, I sense the grizzly moving in for another batter of blows. He won’t shift while he’s winning, I get that, but he’s sure as hell taking his own sweet time about it.
But I’ve had enough of this charade. Eight rounds of getting my head kicked in is plenty in my book. It’s time to end this.
My wolf howls inside as heat surges in waves out from my core, as skin shreds to reveal fur, and as canines and claws lengthen. My grey-blue wolf explodes finally, uncontrollably, into the ring.
And, we’re on.
Time to dance, motherfucker.
Chapter 2
Jess
As a man, he’s bigger than most; but as a wolf, Jake is a titan.
Magnificent. Deadly. A god in the ring.
I’ve seen him fight before and shift into his wolf a thousand times. But I’m never ready for the sight of the raging wolf as he steps out from the shadows before the real fight begins; a huge and beautiful monster with steel-grey fur and eyes the color of ice and frosted flame.
Fear or desire, of which I can’t tell, makes my heart race and my breath catch. My mouth is suddenly dry, and even though I’m not the one who’s in the cage facing him, the one about to be destroyed, I take a step back. My eyes never leaving his perfect form...
When his opponent shifts into a bear, I am finally able to tear my eyes off Jake, mainly because I want to size the grizzly up. He’s much bigger than I expected. A brute with a dark brown pelt and eyes to match. He lets out a thick roar and surges forward, toward the big wolf.
But Jake is ready for him.
He dodges easily as the grizzly pulls itself upright and slashes vicious black claws at Jake, scraping metal as it swipes and misses, hitting the cage bars instead. Jake’s wolf snaps and snarls back, ears flat, ducking under the bear to rip into its exposed belly and then bounding away at the last moment.
The bear goes crazy and raises one of his massive paws and crashes it down on the wolf’s back end. There’s a yelp but the wolf keeps on moving, racing around the cage like a bolt of thunder-colored lightening. He’s much too fast for the bear, running circles around him and driving the crowd wild. Suddenly, he leaps and sinks his razor-edged canine teeth deep into the back of the bear’s neck.
The grizzly grumbles and howls, whipping his muzzle back and forth, rattling the cage behind him. Then both fighters are falling onto the enclosure walls, jarring the metal closest to me, making me jump. Blood sprays in a hot arc and I have to jerk my head away as some of it hits me in the face, settling on my lips. Then the taste of it is on my tongue, its iron flavor falling somewhere between revolting and repulsive, exactly like the rest of this endeavor.
I wipe my mouth with my sleeve, and I turn to go. I can’t watch anymore. It’s a slaughter not a fight, and it’s against my principles to stand and watch men die. I’m meant to save lives not lose them. Also, I hate the taste of blood.
I push my way through the heaving crowds, wrinkling my nose at the stench of sweat and blood. No one pays me any attention. Most of the regulars are shifters here to bet their week’s wages against the Black Dragons and win back their lost fortune. Because if Jake loses, the payout is one thousand to one.
What a joke. The twins set it up so that Jake will never lose. Each week the format is the same; let the other guy rough him up, then shift and kill him. Up in the box seat, Xavier is watching even now. My human eyes can see he’s enjoying this, despite his face being completely devoid of any emotion.
Sick bastard.
As the dragon twin glances down, his eyes meet mine momentarily and I falter. It takes me second to jerk my gaze away, keep moving, pushing through the sea of bodies until I’m at the rear of the arena. I offer Xavier a weak smile and avert my gaze, looking back to the fight in time to see the wolf tear in and out again, jaws faster than the bear can react. The bear is roaring, thrashing against the metal, becoming more and more furious but unable to free himself from the place the wolf has him pinned.
It’s a miracle Jake leaves any of them alive. Every night, I’ve been watching him fight the dregs of shifter society in this hellhole. And every night he kills, or close to it, just to win. Although, he can’t really win. This is where our kind come to die, the twins saw to that when they started this place.
Even if he wins, we all lose. All the packs on the East Side lose; their most valuable members, alphas, betas, fathers, brothers, and even sons. The Dragons don’t care about pack society and structure, they don’t care that what us wolves need to survive. Nature gravitates toward balance and without it everything falls apart, pack structure as well as pack mentality just falls apart. Jake must know that; he must remember who he is. Because if he doesn’t, the way my wolf feels about him it’ll be up to me to remind him. And fates know the last thing I need to do right now is chase a forgotten flame.
I’m here to find my brother, nothing else.
I step into the dark tunnels that lead off from the arena and head back to the clinic. It’s where I’m meant to wait for Jake after the fight ends, but heading there early will mean I can prep the room for him. And maybe I can escape to the loading bay to call and check in the with the pack. I need to call them. Soon. I’m not meant to even be here so not calling in after taking off like I did will look odd, especially to Zac. He’ll be pissed if he knew I’d disobeyed him.
He said it was dangerous, and he might be right. Ever since I took the job as resident medic for the Dragon Twins—which comes with an all-expenses paid apartment above the strip of businesses owned by them—I haven’t had a moment to myself. I’m pretty sure my place is bugged too. Even Eric has invited me to his club almost every night for afterhours drinks. Though, I don’t mind Eric; he’s the lesser evil of the two brothers, if a little grabby at times. He likes to possess women, so he’s easy to play. I know his type, it’s how I got this dammed job in the first place. Wearing the tightest, shortest skirt I could find, throwing myself all over him and teasing him until he was salivating at the bat of an eyelash.