Lycan Legacy - 4 - 5 - 6: Princess - Progeny - Paladin: Book 4 - 5 - 6 in the Lycan Legacy Series

by Veronica Singer

  Although terrified, I raised my arms in a ‘ta-da!’ gesture and grinned at the crowd. I pointed to the bull-man and said, "Let's welcome Ferdinand, who assisted me with my entrance!"

  When in doubt, taunt. The crowd clapped and cheered. Even if they had never heard of Ferdinand, the flower-sniffing bull, they appreciated a good show.

  He was waiting with a puzzled expression. Was he smart enough to understand my words? Then his puzzlement turned to anger. "My name's not Ferdinand."

  No sports metaphors, no children's cartoons in common—it was hard to get through to this crowd.

  "Your name is whatever I want to call you. You'll be my pet when this is over. I'll get you a collar with your new name on it in sequins."

  He beat his hooves against the ground and raced toward me. I zipped away, wary of his horns and his reach. I was much faster than him, even in my human form, so I goaded him as he chased me around the arena.

  "Olé!" I shouted at each miss, imitating a matador's spinning moves. "Hey, Ferdinand, you could just give up. Then you'll be able to spend your days smelling flowers instead of fighting."

  His answer was to increase the speed of his attacks. I wished I had kept my clothes; I could have used my skirt as a cape.

  With that thought, the next time he charged, I extended a claw and snagged his kilt, leaving him naked. I used his kilt against him, waving it like a matador's cape and enraging him even further. I punched him each time he raced past, hoping to crack a rib or at least cause a muscle cramp. But he shrugged off my strongest blows. Hell, he outweighed me by so much that I couldn't even push him from his path.

  "So, Ferdinand, do you please your cows with that little dick?"

  Wow, that set him off. Man or bull, never make fun of dick size. He started chasing me with renewed vigor and speed.

  "I'll screw you with this little dick, screw you until you die!"

  He had stamina, much more than I had in my human form. I was sweating and gasping for breath after less than ten minutes, while he was still only breathing deeply. Unless something changed, he would soon wear me down.

  Time to change tactics. I remembered my fight with Raymond, how I had used his greater weight against him. Could I do the same to Ferdinand? If this didn't work, I would be very close to the wall when it finished, maybe close enough to let him corner me.

  Still, it was my only option, short of surrendering. Would the Insane Clone Posse stop the match before Ferdinand killed me? One look at their faces decided me.

  I raced close to Ferdinand and slapped him on the face. "No more playing tag. I will put a ring through your nose and drag you to the slaughterhouse."

  I was racing away before he could react. The ground thudded under his hooves as he pursued me, faster than ever before.

  I aimed for the arena wall just under the royal booth, timing my steps to allow me to be one full stride away from the wall when I made my move.

  I put my right foot up hip-high and impacted the wall, extended my foot claws to grab the stone, then lifted my left foot to follow. The move converted my forward momentum to upward movement.

  A scalpel-sharp horn tip grazed my right ass cheek as I raced up the wall. Damn, that was close.

  Ferdinand's crash loosened bricks in the wall, causing some to rain down on his head.

  I pushed off from the wall as hard as possible to get some distance from Ferdinand. I retracted my claws in mid-air, hoping the fairies hadn't noticed.

  I landed clumsily, fearful that Ferdinand was behind me, but he was in no condition to pursue.

  Ferdinand was bent over near the wall. He had broken off one horn completely. The other was embedded the wall, trapping him. His eyes were wild, rolling in their sockets like a trapped animal's.

  I walked close to him, but stayed out of reach of those arms. "Not so horny now, are you, Ferdinand?" The crowd roared with laughter.

  I reached down and picked up a piece of stone that had chipped off to form a point. The rounded end fit comfortably in the palm of my right hand.

  I stepped behind Ferdinand, depending on my reflexes to warn me if he tried a grab. I reached over with my left hand and stroked his head, like a trainer calming a panicked animal.

  "One of my brothers worked in a slaughterhouse," I whispered. "He told me bulls and cows have a soft spot in their skulls between their horns. That's where they hit them with a hammer to kill them."

  I stroked between his horns. "Ah. There's the spot. I'll make it quick." Only I could see the tears that dropped from his eyes to the sand and instantly disappeared.

  I looked up. Mason and the princesses were looking at us over the edge of the railing. "Can he yield? I don't enjoy killing trapped animals. It's like shooting fish in a barrel."

  "If he yields, Sapphire loses."

  I looked at Sapphire. She blurted, "He could free himself from the wall to continue the fight, he could break off that horn, you could miss. There's still a chance. He will not yield."

  The tingle of magic started. I swung the rock with all my might, putting the point through his brain, killing him instantly.

  Alphas keep their promises.

  "Dream of fields of flowers, Ferdinand."

  24

  I stepped back and scanned the crowd. There were murmurs of discontent. I had offered mercy to the outmatched Ferdinand, but Sapphire had squashed his chance for a happy ending.

  In death, Ferdinand's body slumped, but his head was still held up by his embedded horn. Sapphire's expression soured as the murmurs of the crowd turned to grumbles. My feet tingled with the touch of magic.

  Before any more tricks could occur, I raced toward the wall, put one foot on poor Ferdinand's head for a boost, and leaped over the wall. I did a somersault and landed facing Sapphire.

  This close, Sapphire—or whoever her accomplice was—couldn't use magic against me. At least not without breaking their weird rules.

  "Time to submit, Sapphire," I said. I stepped closer and whispered, "I warned you about cheating. Submit or die."

  She shook her head in negation.

  Then I brought the Ferdinand-killing rock out from behind my back. "I wonder if fairies have that soft spot that bulls have? Hope so. Otherwise, this will be very painful. Guess we'll find out."

  Her head-shake suddenly turned into a spasmodic nodding.

  She dropped on her back like a puppy taught to play dead, exposing her throat. I put my dirty foot on her throat as she recited the oath.

  "I, Princess Sapphire, acknowledge Princess Luna of Luna Pack as my alpha."

  I tossed the rock over my shoulder and helped Sapphire to her feet. I hugged her; naked werewolf and fairy-tale princess bonded with pack magic.

  After washing off the dirt, blood, and stench of the arena, Mason and I were back in bed. Mason was combing out my hair, using those long, soothing strokes that calmed me and the wolf.

  "I'm worried about the other Challenges."

  "So am I," Mason murmured in a calming voice. "I never expected them to bring in monsters. We might stop at this point. Three of my sisters have vowed allegiance. I also expect Chrysoberyl to swear without fighting. That would make us evenly matched."

  "I could beat up fairies all day. But fighting monsters is something else. When they outweigh me by so much, it's almost impossible to match them. Under these rules, and barehanded, even I can't beat a monster that outweighs me by that much."

  I shook my head in frustration. "I can't use my full strength, because of the pregnancy. I can't use magic, because I don't know how any spell would react. If only I could wear a weighted vest."

  "Weighted vest?"

  "When I trained in judo, the sensei would match me against guys who outweighed me. He imposed similar rules—no werewolf strength, claws, or teeth. It was frustrating. I was much stronger, but they could throw me around like a rag doll."

  "It's hard to imagine you losing a fight, even at that age."

  I reached over my shoulder and held his hand. "All f
ighters lose. Good fighters learn from their losses and work to overcome their errors. Anyway, I didn't always lose. In judo, getting up close allowed me to perform arm and leg locks for submission."

  "But the big guys still threw you around." Mason started brushing my hair again.

  "Yes. Then my sensei gave me one of those weighted vests that athletes use when training, to add weight to exercise and keep mobility. The extra weight meant they couldn't throw me around so easily, and it added a lot of power to my punches."

  "What do you want to do?"

  "I don't know. I wish I could wear armor. Something to give me protection and add some weight to my punches."

  "You can wear armor."

  "What?" I turned and stared at Mason. "I thought your silly rules insisted on fighting naked."

  "No, the rules state you have to start the Challenge naked. As you vanquish more opponents, their property becomes yours. You can use Alaric's armor, since you bested him. Hell, if he owned any property, that's now yours."

  I leaned back against him, angry but still comforted by his touch. "Damn video game rules. I wish I had known that before killing Ferdinand."

  Mason hugged me. "I'm sorry. I grew up with these rules. I never thought about you not knowing how the Challenge was played."

  I had to ask. "Weren't you worried about me?" I wanted him to encourage me, but I also wanted him to worry. Bipolar is normal for werewolves.

  "Of course I was worried. Ferdinand was a monster. That's why I set up a signal with Kuga. She can feel your condition through your pack link. She’ll signal me if you get injured or…"

  "And what would happen if…?"

  "A lot of fairies would suffer the same fate as you. Kind of like you did when you gave those Special Forces assholes the same injuries as Mike."

  “It warms my heart that you would avenge me,” I said.

  The next Challenge was against Citrine. We had to travel for this one. After about a half-day's march, we arrived at the location she had chosen.

  We were standing at the bank of a swiftly flowing river. The river was about fifty feet wide, and the water splashing against the rocks sent sprays of icy water into the air. A stonework bridge stretched across the river, the midpoint of its arch about twenty feet above the water.

  I wore my newly-gained armor. With my strength, the chainmail and enchanted plates seemed no heavier than a heavy coat would on a human. But with this extra weight, my punches and kicks would devastate nearly any foe Citrine could produce as her champion.

  I stared into her slitted orange eyes, facing down her contempt with my anger. Her tiny, superior smile didn't waver. She seemed confident in the outcome of this contest. Even her heartbeat remained steady, humming along at that hummingbird speed that all Fae seemed to have. Not even a tiny change in her scent to show fear.

  Two fairy men flanked her, about half a pace to her rear. They wore shiny armor in her colors, looking like bronzed insects. Their eyes were visible through the slits in their armor.

  My guards—Mason and Naomi—were two paces back. The extra space gave me room to maneuver without hitting them. Several paces back, at the head of a group of Mason's friends, stood Kuga. Altogether, about fifty people were here to view this contest.

  Standing several paces away were Princess Perla and her retinue of a dozen guards. She had insisted on witnessing the Challenge.

  Citrine wasn't budging, so I turned my gaze to the guard on her right. Even with the faceguard, I could tell from his scent that he had been present when I had beat Ruby and her champion.

  I let my werewolf emerge the tiniest amount, just enough to lengthen my teeth and shift my eyes. The apparent weight of my armor shifted from heavy coat to thick sweater.

  I was rewarded with a skip in the guard's heartbeat, a widening of his pupils, and a tiny flinch. I wrote him off as her champion.

  The guard on her left was similarly dismissed.

  "Are you going to challenge me yourself, Citrine?" I asked. "I thought princesses never got their hands dirty fighting mutts."

  "You must cross the bridge to meet my champion," said Citrine.

  "Really?" I asked in my most suspicious voice. "Would you send me on a wild-goose chase? If your champion doesn't show up, I will call you a liar."

  "You—you mangy cur! You doubt the word of a princess?" Her eyes flashed in anger, but her heartbeat remained steady.

  "Mason always said you fairies won't lie," I said, resisting the urge to apologize. "Let's just say I'm not a very trusting bitch."

  "You must cross the bridge to meet my champion," Citrine gritted out, "or you forfeit the contest."

  What was she hiding? Mason had never lied to me, but he had left a lot unsaid. That was how fairies twisted the truth. Was his stepsister doing the same? I wished I could talk with Mason, but the rules forbade any communication or coaching.

  I dropped to a push-up position, holding up the combined weight of my body and the heavy armor with only my fingertips. A tiny gasp from the princess warned me that my strength surprised her. I lowered to my palms.

  From this position, I could see under the bridge. It looked clear.

  "No troll under there," I said. "So where is your champion? Maybe he saw me fight in the stadium and decided it was better to have a long life as a coward than a short one as my opponent?"

  A look of sheer disgust crossed her face. "You think I would choose a troll as my champion? We would have nothing to do with trolls," she sputtered. "They are worse than you dogs!"

  I was on my feet and in her face in a flash, much faster than her guards could react. The princess froze as my claws extended to within an inch of her eyes. Now I could hear her heartbeat speed up, and I smelled the sweet scent of fairy fear.

  "I'm looking forward to putting my dog's paw on your neck," I growled. "After I kick the ass of your cowardly champion."

  "My champion will meet you at the center of the bridge," she insisted.

  Attacking her would void the challenge, so I backed off. Citrine's heart slowed to her normal pace, but the scent of fear remained.

  "Okay," I said. "Let's get this over with."

  I took a deep breath and stepped onto the bridge. I used all my senses: werewolf-sharp hearing, nerves so sensitive they could feel the slightest tremble of the bridge, and a nose that could scent an enemy downwind.

  Nothing.

  Then I scanned with the senses the fairies knew nothing about—that peculiar combination of ESP and vision that showed the flows of magic.

  Nothing. There was a lot of magic here, the ambient magic that made this world so strange, but no sign of any magical traps on the bridge.

  A lot of magic—maybe too much. I had some tiny spells I had created: a loudspeaker spell to let me howl loud enough to shatter glass, a sound-blocking spell, a gas-mask spell to filter air and gather oxygen. Compared to what Mason or the princesses could do, they were useless little things.

  And all untried here in this world filled to the brim with magic. My one attempt at magic had resulted in an explosion that had endangered all of us. Without testing, I had no idea what my home-brewed spells would do here. I itched to experiment with this world’s magic, but Mason had warned me that his family would sense any such experimentation.

  Also, using any of those spells might reveal too much to my opponents. I still had several princesses to beat up. I needed to keep my meager magical resources a secret in case they could save me later.

  I shook my head and decided to call her bluff by crossing the bridge.

  Even if my challenger was invisible, shielded from my sight, my other senses should show him. I stepped further onto the bridge, placing my palm on the waist-high handrail to sense even more vibrations. The handrail was made of carved stone, smoother than polished marble. The uprights were of the same stone, each about one inch in diameter and spaced about two feet apart.

  The only vibrations I sensed were the echoes of my footsteps and the pounding of the water against
the bridge abutments.

  At the center of the bridge I stopped and waited for the challenger to appear. After several minutes, I sighed and said, "Where the hell is this asshole?"

  "He's closer than you can imagine," said Citrine.

  I scanned the area again with all senses. Nothing. There was only the whisper of the wind, the vibration of the rushing water, and the scent of the fish I could see leaping into the air from the water, like salmon during a spawning run.

  A splash from the water below, which I ignored, was the only warning. My inner wolf bit my ass to alert me to the danger.

  I looked down to see a tentacle as thick as a large man's wrist wrap around my ankle. Before I could leap away or shift my foot, the tentacle was dragging me toward the edge with incredible strength.

  The uprights broke as I bashed against them, leaving a hole large enough for the monster to pull me to the water. Faster than free-falling, I only had time to take a half-breath of air before hitting the water and being dragged under.

  The fish leaping from the water should have warned me—prey rushing to escape an alpha predator.

  As the surface receded, more tentacles wrapped themselves around my body. They exerted great pressure, but my armor withstood the force. The monster couldn't squeeze the last breath of air out of me, but I couldn't breathe underwater.

  I thought of triggering my oxygen mask spell, but the memory of how that paving stone had exploded under my healing spell gave me pause. Would that spell even work underwater?

  The princess had set up this trap with a werewolf's weaknesses in mind. Our dense muscle and bones made us too heavy to swim easily, and the damn armor made it even harder to move underwater.

  At the bottom of the river, I finally saw my assailant. The monster was about the size of a small car, nearly ten feet from snout to tail. I faced a shark's head filled with snarling teeth larger than a wolf's, surrounded by a wreath of tentacles. I briefly wondered if my magic armor could resist those teeth.

  I thumped to the bottom of the river, managing to spin so I landed on my feet. Instead of trying to pull away, which would be useless against the strength of those tentacles, I extended my foot claws and dug into the sediment, pushing toward the monster. If I could behead the beast, I might survive.