Damiano and Chino stood naked before the crowd. He glanced upward, letting his gaze wander over the sight of his paladin, the men who had served King Fain, standing shoulder to shoulder, alternating between man and beast. Among them were leopards, lions, panthers, cheetahs, lynxes, and even the occasional small ocelot whose eyes gleamed bright gold in the sunlight like his own. As men, they’d been bred to kill ruthlessly. As cats, their eyes could see ten times better and their noses could scent emotions acutely. They remained calm and resolute as they picked up on the emotions of the two men in the center of the arena.
They would honor their king as they were bred to do but at the same time, Damiano sensed none of them wanted to watch what was about to happen. He was proud of them. He hadn’t even had the chance to train with them, to see what unique skills each possessed, to befriend any of them… to share a laugh or to learn about their families. Nevertheless, the way they looked down into the pit and watched the two of them, told Damiano everything he needed to know about them. They didn’t want this. They would have given anything to help him and his mate but their hands were tied as much as his and Chino’s were. He was proud of them, down to the man.
He glanced up at Paget, sitting rigidly beside the king, tears once again glistening in his beautiful eyes as he watched Damiano, knowing what was coming and not being able to stop it. King Fain had already announced that Paget would meet a slow and agonizing death if Chino didn’t do what he’d been bidden. Flay the skin off Damiano’s body, blow by torturous blow until he died a slow death. So be it. There was no way out of this but Damiano would use his final words to tell his paladin what was really going on here. Christos Fain couldn’t stop him from saying what he had to say to his men. Ignoring the king and Miruna, he spoke directly to them as he unmasked his mating scent.
“That is my mate, Paget Jureaux.” He gestured to his mate, sitting stiffly beside the king, bound in chains with two paladin on guard behind him. “The reason Christos Fain has chosen death for us is because we crossed class lines and dared mate even through destiny and the fates decided long ago that this pairing was to be. He follows an ancient law but it is the letter of the law, as unfair as it is.” His paladin shifted in place but didn’t give away their emotions. Damiano scented only interest as they listened to him. He looked aside at his best friend.
“This man is my best friend. He is here in the pit, tasked to end my life because he dared stand up for me and fight the bastard usurper of Pasha Raab’s royal throne.”
Murmurs ran through the small crowd of onlookers in the arena as some of the paladin’s heads turned to stare up at Fain.
Damiano continued. “Chino Cortez is a great and noble paladin and I willingly submit to his claw. I will not give the bastard who sits on the throne the show he wants.”
The crowd murmured some more but Damiano had one last thing to say. “I tell you this! Christos Fain is not the true cat shifter king. Pasha Raab’s throne was stolen by that man who planned his death!” Damiano pointed to Fain whose features had gone dark. “But listen to me as I tell you this! Pasha Raab lives! He was imprisoned in the dungeons beneath the palace, my warriors!”
Christos Fain shot to his feet. “You lie!”
“It is the truth and my brave paladin will know it’s true soon enough, you filthy excuse for a tiger!” Damiano bellowed.
“Fucking lying paladin!” Fain shrieked. “Your lies fall on deaf ears, Satriale, but I should have expected you to try to defeat me in such a cowardly way. Nevertheless, if you will give me the show I want, I promise this slave will die quickly!” Fain screamed. He nodded to the two paladin behind Paget and the men stepped forward. One grabbed Paget by the throat and pulled his head back while the other pressed a knife to the tender skin. Even from where Damiano was a hundred feet below them in the pit, he could see blood trickle down Paget’s neck where the blade cut into him.
“Stop!” he yelled as his heart squeezed at the sight. He’d said everything he could to sway the crowd.
“Get on with it, then!” Fain yelled from the stands. “Kill Satriale. I tire of listening to this drivel!”
A groan and some cheers rose up from the tiny crowd of onlookers. The paladin remained silent, steadfastly watching but unmoving as they stared at him. Those in human form wore compassionate expressions. Some were clearly devastated.
Damiano glanced aside at Chino and nodded as he stepped back. “Let’s go, brother. Give him the show he wants.”
“I’m sorry, brother.” The sadness on Chino’s face was painful to see.
Chino nodded and Damiano watched as he shifted form. Once he was standing before him as a golden panther, he took a deep breath and began his own shift. The stretching of muscle and snapping of bones was something he generally never really felt, it happened so fast. For the first time in his life though, his metamorphosis to cat was slow and painful as the effects of the silver chains became evident. It took an agonizing two minutes for him to complete the shift to tiger and when he stood on the ground of the arena on four legs instead of two, he felt how unsteady he was.
His body felt weak and he knew he was dehydrated as well as underfed. Only several shifts back and forth and a lot of water and food would return him to full strength. Damiano knew that the king was so afraid for his own safety that he’d intentionally set out to weaken him. He nodded to Chino again, letting him know that he was ready and Chino’s green cat eyes glittered as he began to circle Damiano.
Damiano paced around in a circle as well, giving Chino a wide berth solely by instinct. Keeping Fain entertained was the only way he was going to be kind to Paget and end his life quickly. He kept that in mind as he moved closer to Chino, keeping his head low as they circled each other.
Chino suddenly raised his head and ran at him. When he was twenty feet away, he leapt at him, front paws outstretched, black claws razor sharp as he reached for his best friend. Damiano dodged him, running forward so that Chino was able only to clip his left hip with one paw. If he’d been at full strength, he would have outrun his friend by a long shot. Chino’s claws dug into the flesh of one hindquarter and he felt the burn. There was no time to think about the pain as Chino came at him again. Damiano ran, hating that he had no choice but to be put on defense when all his life, he’d been on offence in a fight. But there was no way he was going to strike out at Chino. Christos Fain clearly had other ideas.
“Fight back or I’ll kill him myself!” Fain screamed from his viewing box.
Damiano glanced upward just in time to see Captain Bennett grab Paget by the back of his shirt and push him toward Fain. The king reached over and grabbed Paget by the neck where the silver collar had been removed. He tightened his fist on Paget’s neck and Damiano watched as his hand shifted to tiger claw. In an instant, Paget’s hands were wrapped around Fain’s tiger arm, trying to pry his paw away from his throat as his face turned red.
Damiano let out a roar as he ran toward the edge of the arena, leaping as high as he could against the side of the pit. Absent of strength, he only reached halfway up the wall as his long black claws raked long grooves in the solid granite. He fell back and jumped to all four feet, snarling once again as Fain still gripped Paget. Watching Paget’s eyes drift closed, he knew he was dying and he futilely hurled himself against the wall, once again coming up short. This time when he regained his footing, he noticed that Fain had released Paget’s throat and Paget’s eyes were open. He reached up and rubbed the bloody claw marks on his neck and Damiano breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now you know what will happen if you don’t fight!” Fain screamed. Miruna squealed in delight beside him, standing up and clapping as she laughed down at him.
Hate burned in Damiano’s gut but with one last glance at Paget, he tore his gaze away and looked back at Chino. The golden panther had moved away and stood a mere thirty feet from him, long thick tail swishing as he faced Damiano. He nodded his large wide head vigorously and then bared his fangs before charging. Dami
ano charged him at high speed and they met in the air as they both leapt at each other at once, loud snarls leaving both of their throats as their massive forelegs wrapped around each other’s bodies. They fell to the ground in a roll, biting at each other’s fur with long fangs and digging in with long vicious claws.
Chino was the first to draw blood as his fangs popped through the thick coat of fur on Damiano’s left shoulder. He roared in pain as he rolled Chino under him, getting the upper hand for only a moment, but enough to force Chino to release his jaws. They rolled on the packed earth for only a few more seconds before Damiano let go of Chino’s shoulder the way his friend had for him. So far, they had minimized the pain they’d given each other, trying their best to give Fain the show he wanted and make it look as real as possible.
Chino jumped to his feet and stalked around in another circle which Damiano followed as the crowd cheered, now watching with interest since first blood had finally been drawn. Damiano’s legs felt unsteady. The loss of blood running down his fur only added to the dehydration already making him weak. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on but he was now determined to drag it out for Paget’s sake. He knew his mate watched and in fact, the breeze in the stadium had been washing over Damiano’s senses for many minutes. He’d scented Paget’s fear, his own pain, and now, his despair. The scents threatened to bring him to his knees and he realized he was nearly out of time.
He glanced up at Paget and shook his head back and forth, silently telling him not to watch what was about to happen. Paget lifted his hand and clapped it over his mouth to hold back his sobs and Damiano stared at him only a moment more before turning away. He glanced at Chino and nodded to his best friend and then began to move. The panther circled the arena for a moment before stopping and lining up for another leap.
This time when they came together, Chino’s leap was higher and longer and he tackled Damiano onto his back. They rolled together in another tangle of incisors and sharpened claws. The gathered crowd roared their approval as pebbles and dirt flew into the air. The scent of blood was thick in the air. When they finally stopped rolling, Damiano found himself looking up at Chino who straddled his body, panting heavily, long sharp fangs bared as he stared down at him. Chino’s beautiful green eyes had darkened to a deep forest green and abject grief shined out of them as his long eyelashes closed. Damiano was startled as tears dripped onto his face and his own sense of grief threatened to consume him. When Chino’s eyes opened again, Damiano lay still. He waited and watched as Chino’s paw drew back, three-inch claws at the tip.
Damiano tore his eyes away from Chino and he glanced up at Paget as his eyes blurred with tears. Paget’s hands were over his face and he’d done as Damiano had asked, averting his eyes from the killing blow. Damiano took one last glance at Chino and nodded, closing his own eyes.
A great roar suddenly filled the stadium and Damiano’s eyes flew open. He looked up to the stands where the unmistakable form of Pasha Raab’s tiger stood, perched on the tile roof of Christos Fain’s viewing box. His mighty tail swished in a wide arc behind him and he stretched his neck, lifting his wide face upward as he opened his jaws and roared again. At first, silence prevailed as Christos Fain shot to his feet and craned his neck to see who stood above him. Only seconds ticked by before the crowd began to titter with voices.
“It’s Pasha Raab!” someone in the crowd yelled.
“It is! He does live! It’s the king!”
Pasha Raab lowered his head and stared down to where Damiano was rising to all four paws and nodded as Sheridan’s askari trainees poured into the stadium filling the upper tiers of benches with men.
“He’s an imposter!” Fain squealed as Miruna flinched away from him. “Kill the tiger imposter!” Fain screamed at his paladin.
“He is no imposter!” Takemoto shouted, jumping onto the roof in human form. He held out his hand to Pasha Raab. “This is your king! Your true king! It is Christos Fain who is the imposter—a false king who deviously planned the coup that destroyed Pasha Raab’s reign! He took your beautiful Queen Sancerre away from you!” Takemoto shouted at the top of his lungs. His clothes dropped at the feet of his fully-shifted jaguar form a few seconds later.
Damiano watched in shock as askari trainees continued to flood in behind Pasha Raab, filling the stands. Some were in shifted form, some human but all jumped into the stands, prepared to fight Fain’s paladin if necessary. Damiano’s heart warmed as he watched Paget turn to stare at him and only a second passed before Damiano concentrated and shifted, taking his human form with slow deliberation as Fain screamed out orders.
As Damiano took form as a man he glanced up just in time to see Pasha Raab leap into Fain’s viewing box and take the man by the neck, sinking his fangs into his throat. A strangled scream was cut off as Pasha Raab ripped Fain’s throat out. Bennett, still in human form, screamed at the top of her lungs and turned to run before being tackled by Takemoto. It only took two seconds for him to sink his fangs into her voice box, turning her cries into deep throaty gurgles. Miruna turned to run as Paget, free of the collar, suddenly shifted. The silver shackles slid off the end of all four paws the split second before his beautiful golden panther leapt at Miruna. Damiano realized that it was the first time he’d seen his gorgeous mate in shifted form and though Paget had revealed his breed to him before, he felt delight wash over him. Paget grabbed Miruna by the back of her neck before she could shift and brought her to the ground, raking his long claws down her back, shredding her skin as she shrieked in agony.
The crowd let up a roar as they watched their king lift bloody jaws away from Christos Fain’s neck and snarl in triumph. The paladin who’d been animals shifted to men and cheered their monarch with a thundering cry of victory as Fain’s askari joined Sheridan’s trainees, roaring their approval, celebrating the life of the true king.
Damiano’s eyes were only for one cat, the mate he loved with all his heart and he watched his very own golden panther as joy welled up in him. Paget let go of Miruna’s snapped neck, letting her limp body drop to the stands before turning to look down at him. The second their gazes met, Damiano held out his arms and Paget let out a roar, leaping down the steps, dodging excited askari and paladin who jockeyed to get close to their true king. Paget’s leap into the pit was as graceful as any cat’s Damiano had ever seen and he watched as he flew through midair, fully shifted by the time he hit the ground on human legs, running toward him.
Damiano scooped Paget up in both arms, twirling him in a huge circle as Chino roared his approval from beside them. At the moment, everything felt perfect. Damiano’s love was in his arms with his face buried in his neck. Christos Fain and his evil mistress were dead, and the true king of the big cat shifter world had returned to retake his throne. He hugged Paget tight and his mate sobbed out his joy against his neck. Damiano was unbelievably happy for the first time in his life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A fter Takemoto and Sergeant Sheridan had helped the king return to the throne, they’d sat with the others and explained what they believed had been happening at Base Camp. Askari Nelson, like so many others, had been selected by Captain Bennett and other askari under her watch, to fight matches to the death in the training pit. The matches—begun by Miruna Grey as a test of loyalty but also as blood sport to entertain her lover—had been fully endorsed by Christos Fain as entertainment. They’d traveled to Base Camp many times in the months preceding Damiano’s arrival. The matches were heavily bet upon and the askari who lost their lives were tossed into a shallow grave.
Takemoto had been more than suspicious that something was going on for quite some time and when questioned, he was quick to explain that he’d been hostile to Chino and Damiano when they’d first arrived because he suspected they couldn’t be trusted. Once all the deception was uncovered and Pasha Raab was restored to the throne, Takemoto and a contingent of the king’s newly-created army of loyal askari had traveled out to Base Camp, located the pit, an
d given all the murdered askari pyres, setting their spirits free and paying them honor. Damiano, Paget, Chino, and Pasha Raab were all on hand when the remaining corrupt askari at Base Camp were relieved of their positions and imprisoned.
Two weeks later, the throne room was packed with well-wishers, servants who had never met the king, having been hired during Fain’s reign, and of course servants who had faithfully served Pasha Raab. It was a special day when everyone was allowed to celebrate the true king’s formal return to the throne. The king’s paladin and as many askari as could be safely packed into the large space bowed deeply as the king took his rightful place on the raised dais where his throne sat.
Chino, Takemoto, Stevens, and of course, Paget, stood at the front of the group, bowing as well. The mood in the room was joyous. The large cat shifter kingdom had its rightful ruler back and everyone in the room seemed satisfied that Pasha Raab would be safe with Paladin Primero Damiano Satriale at his side. Stevens had been absolved for his role in Damiano and Paget’s imprisonment and had been relieved to be forgiven by Pasha Raab whom he’d served faithfully before the coup. Damiano, wearing his finery that included the two prominent Damascus knives at his belt, stood beside Pasha Raab’s throne. Paget thought he looked magnificent, a fierce tower of strength and the most capable man the king could ever have at his side. Side by side, Paget could now easily see that the two men were half-brothers and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.
But, in Paget’s heart, there was only one man, his mate, the man he’d fallen deeply in love with. Even with Pasha Raab on the throne, the law preventing the classes from mating was still in place. That didn’t mean that Paget and Damiano hadn’t been together every moment they could be. At the front of the room the majordomo raised his staff and rapped it on stone floor three times. The murmurs hushed and the room quite suddenly went silent as a page walked over to the king and dropped to one knee. He held out a scroll and a small box.
The Tiger King (Paladin Shifters Book 1) Page 22