King's Property: Paranormal Shape Shifter Alpha Male Cage Fighter Werelion Romance (Shifter Fight League Book 2)

C
opyright 2015 Mina
Carter

Cover Art by Mina Carter

Published: May 2016.

A
LL RIGHTS RESERVED
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T
his book is
a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

A
uthor's note
: All sexually active characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

“
C
hris and Niko
want out of their contracts.”

Zara Hunter sighed at her brother’s announcement and looked up to where Kylan was framed in the doorway. His expression mirrored her own frustration and he shrugged. “They say they won’t work for a woman. So they want out.”

She bit back the retort that sprang to mind and rubbed between her eyes. In the male-dominated world of the paranormal fight clubs, the fact that she’d been running the club for years under her father’s name didn’t matter one iota. To them, the mere fact she was female meant she was incapable of running anything other than a kitchen. No matter what she had upstairs, all they cared about was that she didn’t have the required meat and two veg between her legs.

Logan hadn’t minded she didn’t have a dick and balls. In fact, he’d more than liked that she didn’t.

The thought popped into her head before she could stop it and she had to pause for a moment to get herself in order. Logan Reese, the King of the Ring, owned all the fight clubs in the city and ruled them with an iron fist. So when her father had run off with the last three months’ takings, leaving her and Ky to take the rap, she’d expected both of them to end up in a shallow grave somewhere outside the city limits.

She hadn’t expected Logan to offer her a deal; pay off their debt… in his bed.

She hadn’t expected to agree.

But then, Logan was hot as fuck, and so far, a bed hadn’t been involved.

Just the desk she sat at. He’d taken her on, and across, its surface. Erotic memories of a few nights ago assaulted her and she sucked in a breath as heat rolled through her system.

Fuck…
She had it bad. Dragging another breath into her lungs, she put the memories from her mind and focused on her brother.

“Well, technically, they don’t work for a woman. Their contract is with the Scarlet Moon.” She indicated the room around them and, by extension, the club beyond. The club their family had run for years before Daddy Dearest had fucked off with his “secretary” and put the whole shooting match at risk. Good thing Logan had seen they’d had nothing to do with it…

Ky’s set expression told her he wasn’t convinced. For fuck’s sake, common sense was so rare around here it should be classified as a super power. With another sigh, she levered herself up from the chair in front of the desk, abandoning her reports. “Get the men together. I see we’re going to need a dose of cold, hard logic.”

Sweeping past him, she walked through the club proper, her heels soundless on the carpet. At least they didn’t stick anymore, not since she’d appropriated some of the takings to get the place cleaned up last month. The Grand
they might not be, but at the very least their patrons didn’t need to wipe their feet on the way out rather than on the way in.

She skirted around the cage in the center of the club and headed for the doors at the back of the room. On fight night, it was where the fighters made their entrance and led to the changing and training rooms in the basement. Now though, the banners were all down, and the walls were bare until the afternoon before fight night.

She strode through the doors, forcing Ky to hurry to catch her up. She might not be a fully functional shifter, but she was stronger and faster than a normal human. Blood always showed somehow.

Her heels rang out on the stairs as she headed down them. Within a minute she was walking through the training room, fighters pausing their training as she passed.

“Gather round,” Ky bellowed, trailing in her wake as she headed for the ring against the wall at the end of the room.

Her pace didn’t alter as she mounted the steps and turned to face them all. The Moon had a stable of fifteen fighters, and she had to admit, they weren’t the best. In fact, some were really scraping the bottom of the barrel. But they all had to start somewhere and at least, if they were good, the Moon got some revenue out of them before they were poached by one of the bigger clubs.

“Good morning,” she started, her voice calm and level as she looked around the small gathering.

Keep it together
, she reminded herself, careful not to show any emotion. In a room of mixed shifters, all predators, showing fear or anything like it was a complete no-no. If they associated her with prey, she was done for. No, she had to be the alpha, up to and including dry humping the fuckers if she had to. Her gaze fell on Niko. He was a big-ass werebear, so she really hoped it didn’t come to that.

“Rumors have reached my ears that some of you have decided you want out of your contracts.” Rather than pussyfooting around, she went straight for the jugular like the cat she should have been.
The one Logan claimed to scent…
“I’m here to tell you that no contracts will be renegotiated at this time.”

There was muttering and shuffling of feet but she ignored it, looking each and every fighter in the eye. “The Scarlet Moon has always and will always be run by a member of the Hunter family; be that my father, my brother or me—”

“Won’t fight for a woman.”

The comment came from somewhere in the masses, so she couldn’t be sure who the speaker was. It didn’t matter. Whoever had spoken, she still needed to address it.

“You don’t fight for a woman,” her voice sliced through the air, a whip of ice and steel. “And if you do, you’re in the wrong fucking game. You fight for yourself, your brothers and your club. And it’s the club, not me, that your contract is with, and by extension, the Shifter Fight League run by the king. Now, I don’t know about you, but the king is not a man I’d want to piss off.”

* * *

O
h yes
, Zara Hunter was glorious. Absolutely glorious.

Shoulders resting against the wall and his face shadowed by his hoody, Logan Reese watched the petite woman control the room with ease.

She might claim not to be a shifter, but she was all alpha female and it showed. Half the fighters in the room wouldn't meet her gaze and the other half were so deep in lust he could practically taste it rolling from their pores.

His cat snarled as his temper rose, but he kept both in check. They could look and lust after her all they liked, but if any of them laid a hand on her, he’d take it clean off…and their balls for good measure.

Zara Hunter was all his. End of story. She just didn’t know it yet.

He altered his position as his body reacted to her voice and the sight of her curvy figure highlighted by the lights above the practice ring. The spotlights would have washed any other woman out, but with her dark hair and feline-lined eyes, they worshipped her instead. The harsh lights molded to her generous figure and caressed the length of her legs.

He bit back a groan and readjusted himself. She had those “fuck me” heels on again. Thank god for baggy training pants or he’d be broadcasting his desire for the petite club manager to everyone.

At the mention of his name, the crowd quietened down. Clever move to remind them that all clubs, and by extension all fighters, owed fealty to him. Without his permission, no shifter could fight. Of course, that permission was usually assumed and taken for granted…but he could withdraw it if he pleased. And a fighter without his permission was a one-way trip to a shallow grave out past the city limits.

Eyes narrowed, he took note of the trouble makers as the crowd dispersed and went back to their training. He'd let her deal with it in her own way. For now.

Zara made her way down the steps from the ring, and he pushed off the wall to approach. Her eyes flashed a warning as she clocked a fighter stalking toward her and then widened as she recognized him.

“Logan? What are you doing here?” she asked as she hurried toward him. The tight skirt and the sway of her hips distracted him for a second before he focused on her face. Was that a hint of a smile there? Pleasure to see him?

“I thought I’d drop in and see what your training facilities are like.”

He swept a glance around the room, very much aware of her next to him. She was so small and delicate, soft and curvy, he felt like a brute next to her. And a pervert for the erotic thoughts rolling through his mind.

“Oh.” Disappointment colored her voice, and he hid his smile for a second before sliding her a sideways glance. His kitten had wanted him to be here to see her. Good.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.” She waved off her brother, who was headed their way with a frown on his face. Moon’s balls, if the kid hadn’t recognized Logan even with his hood up, there was no hope for the guy.

He turned, leaning his hip back against the edge of the ring and watched her. It had only been a couple of days since he’d seen her. Taken her bent over her desk in the office. With most women, that would have been it for him. Out of sight, out of mind.

Not with Zara Hunter. Since the moment he’d claimed her lips, then her body, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. How she’d gotten under his guard he didn’t know, but it was like she’d taken up permanent residence under his skin. And he couldn’t stay away even though he had other places he should be rather than making some stupid excuse about training at the Scarlet Moon just so he could see her.

“And to see a certain club manager. We have some…business to discuss.”

Her breath caught—just for a second, but he heard it. The look she sent him sizzled with heat to match the color on her cheeks. He was always horny after training, and her flush told him she’d gotten the message loud and clear.

“And it seemed like a good idea to check out how you run things here,” he added with a shrug, his attention half on the fighters around them. There were a few amongst them that might turn out to be half decent, but the rest were frankly terrible. With this lot, he was surprised the place turned a profit.

He didn’t miss the stiffening of her frame nor the faint hint of anger from her skin before she locked the reaction down.

“Are you calling my management abilities into question?” Her words were short and sharp, only one step removed from a demand. One thing was for sure, the woman had balls of steel. Not many would challenge him. Ever.

Reaching out, he snagged her wrist and yanked her up against him, cradled in the cage of his thighs. Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh as she landed against his solid chest. Before she could move away, he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around the nape of her neck to hold her in place.

“Are you questioning me, kitten?” he murmured, bending down to brush his lips almost over hers. “I hope you are…because I’ll have to do something about that.”

In a heartbeat, the blaze of anger leached from her eyes to be replaced by a completely different sort of heat.

“Is that right?” Her words whispered over his lips, but she didn’t back down. Good. He didn’t want her to back down. Wanted the excuse for what he planned to do to her…

“Yeah.”

His lips brushed hers once, the barely-there pressure gone before she registered it and parted her lips in response. All his instincts, the ones urging him to find the nearest flat surface and claim her again, howled at him but he didn’t care. The small self-denial was worth it to see the frustration and need that flashed across her expressive eyes.

“So…what kind of something did you have planned?” Her voice dropped deceptively low, her hands spreading over his chest. Somehow she’d slid them under his hoody, her fingertips against the bare skin revealed by his workout top.

For a moment he lost his train of thought, her touch short-circuiting everything. It took everything he had to get himself under control, to stop himself simply falling backward onto the floor of the ring behind him with her in his arms. He managed it, just, pulling back to look down into her eyes.

“You’ll see. Don’t go anywhere,” was all he said as he put her from him and strode toward her brother. “So, Hunter, let’s see what kind of fighters you’ve got.”

* * *

N
ormally when the
men were training, Zara found reasons to be elsewhere. In the office usually, or trying to organize bouts with fighters from other clubs. Anything to bolster the club’s takings just that little bit more. Before her father had fucked everything up, she’d started to create a nice little buffer in their accounts, hoping eventually to accumulate enough to renovate the club… Better surroundings would bring in a better class of clientele. Ones with more money and who were less likely to bust up the place.