by COE 3. 1. 0
“I like a woman with a little fight in her. And have no doubt about it. I will win. I am the strongest of them after all. That’s what makes me the alpha.”
“Being an alpha is not about just strength,” she countered, her eyes blazing. “It’s about integrity, which you don’t appear to have seeing the way you lied to us, and leadership, which means doing the right thing.”
“In the context of the greater good, I am doing the right thing.”
“Torturing someone is the right thing? Making someone breed against her will is the right thing?”
“We are no longer held by the laws of society, Felicity. As you might have noticed, we are in a post-apocalyptic world where survival of the species must take precedence, not our individual whims.”
He loomed over her – a menacing and yet very magnetic presence, raking his eyes all over her body as if he wanted to devour her. The look of hunger was unmistakable on his face. She wondered if his lust was merged with a hunger of a different sort.
Still, he did not touch her. She could tell that he was restraining himself – that it took every ounce of his willpower not to touch her. She imagined being a slave to a man like this, and she shuddered.
“Get some rest,” he said. “Some food will be sent up later. Tomorrow, you can watch your lover die.”
A chill descended in her chest. She knew he was right.
What could Oliver do against these half-animals in a contest of their own making, even if he were whole and not weakened like he was now?
30
The next day dawned deceptively bright. Felicity couldn’t sleep all night, and she was a right mess when Harry came for her. His eyes gleamed as he took in her disheveled state. She was surprised that he still found her attractive despite her hair being a mess and her eyes being red from crying.
“You hungry?” he said gently.
She contrasted him to Will. Harry was not unattractive either, and he was certainly very well-built, like a pro wrestler. Brown eyes. Brown hair. The kind of guy you would choose to be the father of your child because he seemed so . . . normal and unassuming.
And he certainly seemed much nicer than Will. Much, much less unpredictable.
“No,” she said. “Please . . . these contests . . . games, whatever you call them . . . are they to the death?”
“It depends.”
“Depends?”
“The rules of engagement decree that it is up to the winner to allow the loser to live or die. If the winner is merciful, then the loser is spared. If not – ” He let it trail.
She looked up at him with frightened eyes. “Are you a merciful man?”
He smiled. “Don’t think of such things, Felicity. Know that you are a prize many men will kill for.”
“Shifters, not men.”
“Oh, we are men in every sense of the word. Both men and beasts. We straddle the best both worlds have to offer.”
“And the worst.”
“You haven’t gotten to know us yet.”
“What I know so far scares me.”
“It just takes time getting used to.” He had something in his hands – something she only noticed now. It was a tissue-wrapped package, the kind used for delicate clothes.
“What is that?”
“Something for you to wear to the games. It’s to remind the men who are fighting for you exactly what they are fighting for. The chance to take you as mate.”
“What if I don’t want to wear it?”
“Don’t make it worse on your lover than it is already.” There was a warning in Harry’s voice.
“Right.”
She took the package and unwrapped it. It was a beautiful gold lame gown – pretty much like the gown she had tried to wear in the penthouse, a million years back.
“There’s a makeup kit in the vanity drawer. Make yourself beautiful, Felicity. You’re going to have a front row seat to the proceedings.”
*
Felicity gazed at herself in the mirror. This time, the dress fitted her like a body glove. She had never worn anything so beautiful in her life. The dress had a plunging neckline which showed off her cleavage marvelously. She had lost a lot of weight, and her waist was now the curve of an hourglass.
She had applied makeup. Gold eye shadow. Lipstick. Blusher. The end result was surprisingly . . . well, stunning.
Gawd, I’m really beautiful . . . for once in my life.
She looked up at herself again.
Oliver . . . please . . . be strong. Be . . . whatever you can be.
A knock came on the door. It was Harry. He said he would come back for her.
“Are you decent?” he said through the door.
“Yes.” She got up. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in a shining dark wave.
I’m ready.
31
The games – whatever they were – were being held at the grounds of the mansion, which were immense. The stage had been set, amphitheater style, with only one seat available. That seat was shrouded in white silk and set upon a small dais, as if it were meant for a king.
Or a queen.
The men were all gathered in a semi-circle. They were standing and the seat was unoccupied, which meant it had to be for her. At the other side of the semi-circle was an array of weapons – staffs, clubs, swords, daggers, tridents, bows and two quivers of arrows. Felicity’s throat went dry when she studied the weapons from afar.
They were serious about killing each other.
All the men stared at her as she traipsed towards the semi-circle, feeling surreal, as if all this was a bad dream she would wake up from at any minute. Oliver and Will were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jim or Dr. Ivan.
“Please, sit,” Harry said. “The games will begin shortly. I have to go and prepare.”
Felicity shivered in the cold. The dress was very thin, and she had no shawl. She didn’t think shifters thought of niceties like that, since they probably didn’t feel the cold or something. She looked up at the sky. Clouds scudded, blown by the wind.
“Are you cold?” Erasmus asked her.
“Yes.”
He took off his jacket and gave it to her. “Just put this over your shoulders, but don’t cover your front. You are here as a reminder to these men what they are fighting for – the chance to mate with a beautiful woman such as yourself.”
She took it gratefully. The idea she was dressed like this to be a sex object, or at least, a mating object, was so ironic that she almost laughed. The she remembered their situation and sobered.
She said to Erasmus, “I suppose you are completely out of the mating game then.”
“I had a son,” he said.
“You? I thought you were – ”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t have a son.” He grimaced. “He didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It happens to all of us, eventually. Your boyfriend is a fine specimen of a man.” He nodded to her right.
She turned, as did everyone else. The contenders had arrived.
They were all naked, to her surprise – or maybe it should not be to her surprise – and all four bodies on display were magnificent. Will, Jim and Harry had stockier bodies which reminded her of gladiators in Ancient Rome – densely muscled and without a spare ounce of fat. She can’t help eyeing their genitals, which were impressive.
Oliver was no less magnificent, but of course, she had seen his fully naked body a hundred times already. But Erasmus clearly hadn’t. His eyes almost bulged as he took in Oliver’s impressive physique, his strapping chest and his sculpted abs. And his cock, which was flaccid now, but which was still impressive.
Oliver did not appear to be embarrassed about his nudity. He looked tired, more than anything. His shoulders were more slumped than the rest, and he clearly was still suffering from the aftereffects of his electric torture.
Felicity’s heart clenched. He couldn’t fight in this condition! He really couldn’t. The rest of them were rested an
d fit and whole. She remembered reading somewhere that electro-torture caused your heart rhythms to be affected. Oliver’s heart could be beating erratically and blood might not flow into his brain when he most needed it to.
The four of them walked into the apex of the semi-circle and stood proudly before all the men like Olympic contestants of old.
Will said, “The time has come to prove who is alpha once again. I have held this position for five years.” He paused for effect. “I have no intention of languishing it to anyone.”
Erasmus murmured to Felicity, “He challenged our last alpha and crushed his skull in a duel.”
Felicity felt faint.
Will continued, “The rules of the contest are clear, but for the benefit of our lovely newcomer – ” he looked straight at Felicity “ – we will go over them again. Since there are four contestants, dueling pairs will be drawn against one another. A coin will be tossed between a dueling pair and the winner gets to choose the weapons to be used.
“The contestants must stay in their human form for only ten minutes, should he survive that long. A bell will be rung at the ten minute mark, whereupon the contestant may choose to shift into his animal form. A contestant may choose to kill or to spare his adversary. The winners of each dueling pair will fight each other. There will be no surrender. It is a fight until only one is left victorious.”
He paused.
“Are there any questions?”
There was a cloying feeling in the pit of Felicity’s tummy. She felt like throwing up. Oliver did not appear to react much to Will’s speech. Perhaps he had already heard it. Oh, but she was so worried about him. He was so pale. Had he recovered from yesterday’s torture, or were his insides still reacting to the disruptive electrical current?
She could only pray that these men would show him mercy. At least he would be alive, even though they couldn’t be together anymore.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes, just so long as he’s alive.
“Let the games begin,” thundered Will.
Erasmus walked up to Will with a cloth bag. He dipped his hand into it and drew out a name. His voice rang out loud and clear.
“Harry.”
Erasmus said, “The pairs have been decided – Will and Harry, Jim and Oliver. Will and Harry, you will go first.”
Jim and Oliver receded to the sidelines. Oliver’s eyes were on Felicity. He was too far for her to read anything in them, but she sensed that he was trying to tell her something.
Was it: I love you? Or: Goodbye?
It was Will and Harry’s turn to toss the coin.
“Heads,” Will called it.
Erasmus flipped the coin in the air and caught it.
“Heads it is,” he said.
Will declared, “I choose swords.”
Felicity found herself clenching her fists. Weren’t swords very dangerous weapons?
Will and Harry both went to the weapon pile and picked out two pairs of swords. A pair for each. So they were double sword duelers. How could Oliver possible fare against men such as these?
Please . . . let Harry win.
She liked Harry. Sort of. She just didn’t want Will to triumph. Her emotions where he was concerned ranged from hate to transfixed admiration, and they were just too complex to siphon through.
When both Will and Harry wielded twin swords in either hand, they went to the center of the circle. The metal on the swords caught the sunlight and gleaned. The men faced each other, and the atmosphere was no longer friendly between them. Felicity could sense the charge between them and smell the anticipation of blood and gore.
Erasmus held a stopwatch up.
“On the count of three . . . one . . . two . . . three!”
Will and Harry flew at each other. There was the clash of swords, and the stroke and parry of blades against one another. Both men slashed and thrusted, feinted and parried again.
Felicity could only watch in dread because she knew it would be Oliver’s turn next.
The blades were making cuts now. Will slashed Harry in the shoulder, and Harry returned the favor by nicking Will in the arm. But both men were very competent with twin swords – a dance they seemed to have perfected. It would have been beautiful to watch them had this been a gladiatorial showpiece instead of a fight to the possible death for the chance to mate with her.
She kept glancing at Oliver, who was still trying – sometimes – to catch her eye. I need to tell you something, was the vibe she was getting.
She turned to Erasmus, “I-is Oliver OK?”
“As well as he can be.”
“I mean . . . is he OK? He doesn’t have internal bleeding or something, does he?” She wished they still had the Internet in this world. She would then be able to look up the aftereffects of electrical torture and warn Oliver about it.
“I don’t think so,” Erasmus said. She could discern the sympathy in his voice. “He will be all right. Jim can be merciful.”
‘Can’ be? Not a definitive ‘will be’? Her insides felt like water.
And then, a bell went off.
Felicity swung to see who was ringing the bell. But her attention was seized by what was happening on the battlefield.
Both Will and Harry were shifting.
One moment, they were both naked men covered with sweat. The next – and it was so fast that it happened under ten seconds – their skins had sprouted fur. Their bones shrank and became canine-like. Their faces changed shape. It was both frightening and fascinating to watch.
Then there were two wolves instead of men. That was the reason for the nudity. Felicity recognized Will’s green eyes in the grey wolf, which immediately sprang to engage the brown wolf.
The wolves bit and clawed at each other, furry balls rolling on the ground. The savagery was staggering. Felicity wanted to close her eyes, but she was afraid to look away. Teeth gnashed and fur flew. She had seen dogs fighting over a scrap of bone before, but not at this intensity. Her hands flew to her mouth and she had to bite down on her knuckles.
“Take heart,” Erasmus said. “It will be over . . . for one of them soon.”
Finally, the grey wolf caught hold of the brown wolf by the neck and bit down. The brown wolf yelped. Blood geysered out of its neck.
“No,” Felicity whimpered.
Both of them transformed again back into their naked human forms. Harry was lying on the ground, his hands clasped to his neck, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Help him!” Felicity cried.
But no one moved.
When she tried to get up, Erasmus stopped her shoulder.
“No. It must be finished.”
Will picked up two of the swords which had been flung onto the ground. His chest was heaving and his glorious body was covered with sweat. He gazed at the wounded Harry.
“Please!” cried Felicity. “Show him mercy!”
Will said, “There can be no mercy for someone who has challenged me.”
He lifted both swords and cleaved down upon Jim’s neck, severing it from his former friend’s body. Blood spattered everywhere.
Felicity turned away to retch.
Erasmus put his arm around her shoulder.
“Come away,” he said gently. “Let me get you cleaned up so you don’t have to watch.”
She allowed herself to be shepherded away by Erasmus. In the periphery of her vision, she could see Harry’s headless body being carried away by two men.
Harry, oh Harry!
He was kind to me!
She pictured Harry’s face – rough, and yet kindly, with real humanity in his eyes.
Don’t think of such things, Felicity. Know that you are a prize many men will kill for.
Her heart ached with the futility of it all, to know that Harry’s blood had been spilled in her name.
Then Oliver and Jim stepped into the circle.
32
Another man walked up to Jim with the coin.
“Call it,” he said.<
br />
“Heads,” Jim said.
The coin spiraled in the air and the man caught it.
“Tails,” he said.
Felicity wiped her mouth with a handkerchief Erasmus gave her.
“I’m OK,” she said. “I have to go back.”
“Yes. I understand.”
She hurried back to the circle, where Oliver was making his choice amongst the weapons. She couldn’t imagine what he would choose. So far, she knew he was adept at guns. But anything else?
Oliver held up a dagger.
Ah yes, he had taught her how to fight at close quarters with knives. But those were against fast mutants, not a living, cunning creature who was adept at weapons like Jim.
Jim picked up a dagger too.
“Are you ready?” Erasmus said.
Oliver darted a final glance at Felicity. He was closer this time, and she could see the unspoken sentiment in his eyes. I love you. You should know that, just in case this is goodbye.
She could only mutely convey her love back through her eyes. She didn’t want to say anything to distract him.
“On the count of three . . . one . . . two . . . three.”
Jim flew at Oliver with his dagger. Felicity’s heart clenched. But Oliver feinted and avoided the dagger stab to his chest. At the same time, he parried with his own dagger in an aikido riposte which he had taught her. Jim’s arm came up and struck Oliver’s hand away. Oliver stabbed again, and Jim once again turned off the assault.
And so the dance began.
Oliver was adept with a dagger, but Jim was no pushover either. Felicity could tell that the dagger would not be the weapon of his choice. Jim used his fists more than he used the dagger.
The clock was ticking.
Felicity knew that Oliver wanted to wrap everything up before the ten minutes was up. He wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against a live werewolf.