Savage Lands (Savage Lands #1)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Rodriguez’s group stood around me, almost all Bovidae-shifters, inching closer, puffed up and angry, their noses flaring with revenge.

  Shit.

  “You think you own the fuckin’ place now?” The buffalo widened his shoulders, stepping into me. “You cheated. There’s no way some scrawny human HDF rich bitch killed my friend.”

  “If it helps you sleep at night.” My voice came out low, but louder than it should in the silent mess hall. Everyone, including the guards, stared at us like we were theater, tension and suspense threading through the space.

  The buffalo-shifter inched closer, puffing up, threatening, and knocking into me. At the same time, his buddies moved in, bouncing me off them like a ball. They weren’t going to truly harm me. The rules stated I was to be untouched for the Games.

  “I will kill you.” He shoved me again.

  “Volunteer tonight then,” I growled, not caring how large and strong this fae was. “If you’re so sure your friend lost to this scrawny human HDF bitch by tricks, then step into the ring with me.”

  What the fuck are you doing? Logic screamed at me. I didn’t know, nor did I seem to care.

  “Or are you a coward?” Oohs and hisses sounded around my challenge. I lifted my lip into a sneer with confidence. “All talk? I think you just prance and put on a show but don’t have the guts to actually step into the ring.”

  A gruesome smile edged his mouth, his hands stretching and rolling. “Why wait?”

  It took only a second, a blink.

  The buffalo’s hand wrapped around the back of my head and slammed me into a table with an agonizing crunch. Blood burst from my nose as my face knocked into someone’s food tray, scattering the contents across the room.

  Shock and pain froze me. My certainty he wouldn’t touch me had blinded me, leaving me vulnerable.

  I crumpled to the floor while cheers and hoots echoed in my ears as the buffalo grabbed my legs, yanking me away from the table, his fist coming down on my temple as sets of boots kicked into my body from all around.

  Pain exploded through me. I was unable to catch my breath or get to my feet as six of them beat and stomped me. The agony was so overpowering, my brain started to shut down. This was not the way I thought I would die. I had already accepted one on one in the arena …but not this way.

  But fair or right did not exist in this place. Not one guard stopped them, not one person tried to break them up. Not for me.

  Darkness seeped into my mind, pulling me away from reality, detaching me from the excruciating agony, blood blinding my vision and choking my throat.

  “STOP!” A voice thundered through the room, the vibration rumbling deep into my bones, yanking my soul back to the surface, forcing my eyes open with a gasp.

  Warwick.

  The herd halted, twisting around, their brutish egos flipping off like a switch.

  “Shit!” Three of them scrambled back, horror streaking their features.

  The main guy stood still, folding his arms, but I could see his jaw shifting, his shoulders rising in defense.

  Footsteps hit the floor, and I heard gasps and movement as people got out of Warwick’s way, letting the Wolf cross the room.

  Warwick parted the crowd, stepping up to the new buffalo leader. Emotionless, he stared at the man, but I noticed the tightness in his shoulders, a twitch under his eye. Signs that rage boiled under the surface.

  The buffalo man was huge, but Warwick’s frame towered over him. The shifter gulped.

  “You have the right to touch her?” Cold. Detached. His gravelly voice was somehow calm and threatening at the same time.

  “Uh—well—I mean, she is HDF. Markos’s daughter.” The bull motioned to me. “And she cheated. Rodriguez’s death was not a fair fight.”

  “You’re right; it wasn’t.” Warwick tilted his head, his words feeling like a trap.

  “I must avenge my friend. And this bitch walks around here like she owns—”

  Warwick’s arm darted out, his hand clamping down on the man’s neck, baring his teeth. “I didn’t say why it wasn’t fair.” He squeezed, the shifter gasping and pawing at Warwick’s hand. “Rodriguez was completely outmatched. She was by far the better fighter, killing two people in the arena while your friend pranced around like it was a pageant.” He yanked the man’s body closer to his face, their noses knocking together. “You are the one dishonoring his death by being a bully and coward,” he seethed, spitting in his face. “You touched her. Breaking the rules. You know what happens when someone starts acting as if they are in charge here?” The buffalo’s skin turned a deep purple, his mouth open, his eyes bugging. “They are shown the error of their ways quickly.”

  “Hey! He can’t breathe!” A buddy tried to step up, but Warwick glared. The guy stumbled back behind the others, hiding.

  Warwick snorted. “Do you see anyone coming to save you? The fear pumping in your veins knows not one guard, not even your buddies here, are going to stop me. I want you to feel that. I hope it is your last thought.” Warwick squeezed harder, and the man’s legs bowed. “You get off while six of you try to beat a tiny girl to death? Did it make you feel like a man?”

  Tiny? I am not tiny, you asshole.

  His gaze darted to me for a second.

  “This is what I do to sad, insecure men like you,” Warwick snarled, clamping down harder. The shifter tried one last struggle, but his fingers dropped from Warwick’s grip, the whites of his eyes bursting red, a snap of his neck, and his jaw went slack.

  Warwick let go, and the man’s lifeless figure fell to the ground with a thump.

  Holy. Shit.

  He killed him—without hesitation or effort.

  “That’s a lesson for all. Do not test me, or you will join him.” Warwick boomed to the stunned room, anger seeping through his statement. “And if I hear one more of you touches her, or so much as breathes in her direction?” He paused, circling to all the inmates. “You will be next. And I will not be so generous in how I kill you.” He glanced down at me, his eyes rolling coolly over me. “She’s mine.” He paused for a moment, our gazes locking at his words before a cruel grin twisted his mouth. “My kill…”

  The brief moment my heart fluttered into my throat was ruined by the ball of lead that entered my stomach, smashing my last bits of hope.

  He crouched down, leaning in close to me.

  “It’s you and me in the ring tonight. Your life is now mine, Kovacs.”

  Now I understood why he had stepped in and saved me…

  To kill me himself.

  Chapter 24

  The excitement from the crowd buzzed far down the corridor, lighting the air with sparks. Terror weaved deeply into my bones, and I struggled to breathe or even stay conscious.

  “You’ll be fine. You can do this.” Kek strode beside me, nipping at her nail. Soon she’d have to leave, as only Zander could escort me into the tunnel used for the fighters.

  “Really?” My tone escalated a few pitches, my lungs pumping in and out rapidly.

  “No, sorry, you’re totally fucked.” She cringed, running a hand through her loose braid as we stopped at the gate. My body swung to hers, my mouth gaping at her.

  “I’m sorry!” She tossed out her arms. “I’m not good at this whole consoling thing. Not in my nature.”

  Zander unlocked the gate, the metal squealing as it opened, death shivering through my heart.

  Kek’s words were brutal, but it wasn’t something I didn’t know. Everyone knew. I had received nothing but smirks and pitying eyes all day. The only time people were nice to me was on the eve of my death: a shake of the head, a pat on the shoulder, even from those who had threatened me all week.

  I was a dead girl walking.

  Warwick had demanded healers to mend me for the fight tonight so he could kill me properly.

  “Did I not warn you?” Lynx had said to me as we left the laundry room earlier today. “This time, there is no going back.”

  Desp
ondency filled my eyes as I peered at Kek. At this moment, I realized she had become a friend. In a place of violence, death, and cruelty, she, Tad, Opie, and even Bitzy had become sources of comfort.

  “Brex—” Zander cut himself off, clearing his throat. “85221. It’s time.”

  I pursed my lips, my throat thickening as I grabbed Kek’s hands. “Thank you,” I whispered, trying not to cry, “for having my back. I still don’t understand why, but I appreciate it.”

  Kek twisted her head to the side, her lids blinking rapidly, her nose twitching.

  “And tell Tad the same. I never got to say goodbye.”

  “Then walk out of the arena and tell him yourself.” Ire flared over her brow. “Do what you need to do.”

  A sad smile curved my mouth, her fury inflating instantly. We both knew I would not be walking out. No one, especially a bony, weak human girl, could win against the Wolf.

  He was a legend for a reason.

  The man who came back from the dead took lives like he was death himself.

  Not one for sentimentality, I spun away from her, stepping into the dark tunnel. My jaw locked down when I heard her call my name. I didn’t look back, cutting off everything and everyone who made me human and tucking it behind my heart.

  Caden.

  My father.

  Hanna, the only real girlfriend I had growing up, and the rest of my comrades.

  Istvan and Rebeka. They had taken me on as family and raised me after my father died. They loved me in their way.

  I gathered all their faces and memories and closed the lid. If I let myself think or feel, I would collapse, fear and grief immobilizing me.

  My boots crunched across the gravel as it took us lower into the earth. The drumming and chants from the stands echoed through the corridor. They all knew General Markos’s ward would be dead soon, my blood watering the dirt. They’d be carrying the true knowledge: I didn’t die months ago but was cut down in front of them. They’d probably put my head on a spike and take turns parading me around the cell block in pride.

  My feet stopped, a woeful sob wrenching from my chest, my spine bowed over. Zander’s hand touched my lower back, his fingers circling in soothing motions. “Brexley.” My name barely grazed his tongue, his voice soft and laced with sorrow.

  “Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t say it will be all right or I can do this.” I looked up at him, agony snaking up my chest to my face.

  His brown eyes filled with emotion as his gaze dove into mine. “Stay alive. Not everything is what it seems.” Then his hands gripped my face, pulling me to him, his mouth capturing mine. Soft, but full of need, his lips moved over mine. My heightened emotions seized on his desire, consuming the last moments of kindness and pleasure.

  I took his hunger and passion like it was a charging station, sending fire down my spine. I was not kind or gentle, but rough and demanding. I pushed for more, my teeth biting, my tongue licking. He tried to keep up with me, but I knew I demanded too much.

  I always needed more. No guy I had been with ever seemed to leave me quenched. I thought it was because I truly longed for Caden, but maybe it was just me.

  Never satisfied.

  Zander broke away, his head tipping back, his eyes round as he stared down in awe.

  “Brexley…” He said my name with reverence. “I need to tell you—”

  “Now I know what was taking so long.” An icy timbre wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, jerking me to the huge figure on the other side of the gate.

  Fuck.

  Warwick’s gaze burned into me, dread punched my lungs, and I stepped away from Zander.

  “Did I interrupt your final goodbye with the donkey?” Warwick sneered, leaning his shoulder against the bars casually, rolling a toothpick in his mouth. His body seemed relaxed, but his eyes oozed with threat as he glared at Zander.

  “Horse,” Zander snipped back.

  “Same difference. Both an arse.” He shrugged, his eyes catching mine again. “Little surprised at your choice, Kovacs. You think by fucking a guard, you would have gotten better treatment in here. Started too low on the totem pole.”

  “Shut up.” Zander stepped forward, his jaw tightening with anger. “You think you own the world…think yourself so mighty. But you are a prisoner like the rest. I can’t wait for someone to take you down a few pegs. Someday someone will kill you, and you will be forgotten. No fanfare, no one to mourn or care.”

  “Someday I will probably die, that’s true, but I guarantee the world will mourn as though they lost a god.” Warwick’s confident blue eyes slid to mine. “And someone will definitely care.”

  “Your mother doesn’t count.” I glared at him, my fear replaced with irritation. What was he even doing out there already? It didn’t seem his style. He didn’t wait. He came, he killed, and he left. Why was he waiting for me?

  He snorted, leaning his back fully against the gate, motioning to the stands, causing them to go wild. “Soooo…we’re all here waiting for you. When you’re ready, princess. You are the star of the show, after all.”

  “You are such an asshole.” I churned with indignation, toppling the debilitating dread I held minutes ago to the floor.

  He barked out a laugh, crossing his ankles, still staring out at the crowd, his fingers rotating the pick between his teeth as if he were enjoying a relaxing afternoon. “Is that all you got? Pathetic. My grandmother used to call me worse.”

  My legs moved before I could even think. I slipped my hands through the bars, fingers sliding up his skull, and knotted them in his hair, yanking back.

  His head slammed into the bars with a bang, pinned in place, my mouth close to his ear. “I have a lot more, Farkas. Want me to show you?”

  He curved his head to the side, showing me his profile, a hungry grin on his lips, his eye glinting with fire as I pulled harder on his scalp.

  “I would like nothing more, Kovacs,” he growled, his voice seeping over my skin and between my legs. “Ready to stop fiddling with your toy pony in there and come out and play with someone who might actually challenge you?”

  His energy revved through me. My belly burned, heat scorching down my limbs.

  “You think very highly of yourself.” My mouth brushed his ear. His nose flared, his eyes darkening, energy puffing both our chests. “Like most men, you are probably all talk and very little action.”

  “Come find out for yourself. But unlike your boyfriend, I won’t be gentle.” His one eye met mine. “And from what I just saw…rough is exactly what you are aching for.”

  I shoved him forward, thunder crashing in my chest. “Open the gate,” I ordered Zander. Warwick chuckled, stepping back from the entrance, tossing his toothpick to the ground and opening his arms in a “come and get me” motion.

  “Brexley.” Zander reached for my arm, his head shaking. “You don’t understand…”

  Already out of patience, I snatched the keys from his hand, unlocking it myself, not even looking back as I strode out, hearing him cry out my name again. I could feel nothing behind me anymore, my entire focus on the man in front of me.

  The mob went insane when I stepped out. Whistles, chants, stomping, claps all blended together like music—the soundtrack of my epic battle with Warwick Farkas.

  “Finally.” Warwick winked at me. “Been looking forward to this.”

  “Me too.” I sneered maliciously.

  Living. Dying. Neither were thoughts crippling my mind. Somehow Warwick had removed those and only filled me with the need to fight.

  To be his greatest challenge.

  The dirt crumbled under our boots as we slinked around each other, our eyes locked.

  Predator. Prey.

  The bellows from the stands throbbed off my skin, my heartbeat pulsing in my throat. Every seat was filled: prisoners, guards, even the medical and kitchen staff were all in attendance. Not one person wanted to miss the show tonight.

  “War-wick! War-wick! War-wick!” His name clanged in
the air, scraping my eardrums.

  I stepped closer, but instead of meeting my dare, Warwick sidestepped, his gaze darting up into the stands. Usually, he didn’t put on a show; he killed and got out. Why was he stalling? Playing with me?

  “We going to dance all night?” I jeered, my gaze sweeping over the scene, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon.

  Nothing. They had cleared out everything, leaving it bare of anything I could turn into a weapon.

  “The only thing I do all night is fuck.” His throaty voice looped around me, flushing heat into my veins as if he was actually touching me.

  “Stop it.” I brushed my arms, the demand bouncing from my mouth.

  “Stop what?” His head slanted to the side, his gaze plunging down my form, and more tingles rushed through me. A violent shiver jerked my bones as warmth spread between my thighs. The intensity made me roll my shoulders and shake my legs to dislodge the sensation.

  “That,” I growled. “How are you able to do it? No one is supposed to have powers in here.” I shook my head with a scoff. “Guess the great Warwick Farkas is even above that. No rules could possibly apply to such a legend, right?”

  A smirk twisted his full lips. “Calling me a legend without my even touching you? Just think what you will call me when I do.”

  I glowered at him.

  He lazily reached for me, and I pirouetted away, his fingers grazing my skin, sending excitement through the crowd.

  Through me.

  “But I have no idea what you are talking about,” he replied. As we circled each other again, his gaze drifted up to the stands before snapping back on me. “I’m not doing anything.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Yet.”

  “What I would give to wipe that smug grin off your face,” I snarled, my ankles crossing as I sidestepped him.

  “You think you have the ability to do it?” He slid in closer. “Please…be my guest. No one has before, but give it a go, tiny human.”