Chapters (46)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
She cast about for a way to escape, but the scene before her soon drew her attention. A few times at Forge she’d seen gamblers stage dogfights for sport. She sensed the same bloodlust now, the raw aggression between the combatants and the crowd’s expectation for a good show. The air was tense with excitement as the two cats circled each other, punctuating their movements with low snarls and growls. Unlike the dogfights, however, the demon cats gave a clear impression of intelligence and restraint. There would be no rush to destruction here.
There was a collective gasp as Brona made the first swipe. Pashla reared up on her hind legs to avoid his claws. The fight began in earnest, a confusion of limbs, fur, and snapping teeth. Brona was larger, but Pashla was faster, and neither had the clear advantage.
Suddenly, Pashla charged. Brona roared as Pashla’s teeth sank into his shoulder and both cats went rolling backward, colliding hard with a tree. A murmur went up as the two cats staggered apart. A new energy ran through the crowd. The circle seemed to press in closer to the two fighters, though Kyra didn’t see anyone move.
“First blood,” someone whispered.
And Kyra smelled it too. The musky fragrance teased at her nostrils, awakening an ominously familiar hunger in her that cut through her fear. With a start, she recognized it as the same bloodlust from her dreams—the dreams that had started after her first kill.
The crowd’s energy roused her from her shock. Pashla moved aside to reveal a deep gash in Brona’s shoulder. When the silver cat turned to face her, he moved with a pronounced limp. Pashla shook herself and lunged again, attacking with renewed fury. Brona fought back, hissing and blocking, opening his own gashes in Pashla’s paws and flank, but he was weaker now. Pashla seemed to feed off the crowd’s excitement, advancing with unrelenting focus. It was over in a few moments. Pashla sank her teeth into Brona’s neck and held on until he stopped convulsing and lay still.
A bloodcurdling scream split the air and a woman hurtled into the circle, pushing Pashla aside and throwing her arms around Brona’s neck. She was followed by several others. Kyra stared, transfixed by their grief, until she realized that everyone else was ignoring them. A Demon Rider woman picked up Pashla’s tunic and ran to her, holding it out as Pashla shifted back. Pashla’s blood-smeared arms shook as she retied her belt, and her face was lined with exhaustion as she met Leyus’s eye. The clan leader inclined his head and grasped her hand.
“Well fought, Pashla,” he said. “The clan will abide by this decision. The halfblood stays with us until she heals.”
Thirty-three
T H I R T Y - T H R E E