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  handy.

  In his mind, Beck numbered them One through Fifteen. Eight had

  tumbled straight into Two across the ring the vampires had formed.

  Both were struggling to get to their feet. It gave Beck a chance to

  concentrate on the next assault. It would come from Twelve and Five.

  Beck thrust out with his sword, catching Twelve in the belly as he

  kicked out in perfect precision, shoving Five back. He twisted his

  body slightly to take out Ten and Three in the same fashion.

  Instinct took over as his sword bloodied. He no longer thought

  about Meg or Dante or even Cian. He and the sword moved in perfect

  precision. The blade became a simple extension of his being. Beck

  relaxed, letting his hearing confirm the order in which his brain told

  him they would attack. He danced as they attacked, his sword finding

  purchase in their strong bodies. Every time he sank the steel into

  another body, his hunger grew. He wanted to kill. The horn blared,

  calling an end to this round of fighting. It was an intrusive sound.

  Beck breathed deeply, fighting the instinct to attack the little

  gnomes as they ran onto the field to pull off the injured competitors

  who called for quarter. He wanted to skewer the little ones. They

  would look good on his blade, the dark voice in his head whispered. It was their fault. They had walked onto his killing field. They should expect death. They were dragging off his prey before he even had a

  chance to finish them. It was his right. He turned to raise his sword

  and stop the interlopers when Meg’s face stopped him. She looked

  over the railing at the bottom of the arena. She must have convinced

  Dante and Rhys to allow her to move closer. Her face was worried.

  She was worried for him. She shouldn’t be worried for him. She

  should be scared of him.

  Beck was shaking with rage as he stopped himself. Meg would

  never come to him if she saw what an animal he could be. He couldn’t

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  allow that to happen. He swallowed as the horn blared, and the battle

  began anew.

  The remaining vampires didn’t wait this time. All eight rushed

  him immediately. Beck was knocked back by the unexpected charge.

  Though his back hit the sand, a fierce joy took over. He did love a

  good fight. Up until now, the battle had been rote. Now, he was

  thrown a bit off balance.

  A big vamp, with fangs and claws out, leapt on top of him. Beck

  grimaced as he felt the sharp claws sink into his left shoulder. He felt

  the blood start to flow and knew it would make the vamps a little

  crazy. He’d feared chaos, and now he was going to get it. Shoving his

  foot upwards, Beck launched the vamp up and over as he brought his

  sword up just in time to skewer the next vampire who jumped on him.

  Gravity pulled the vamp down, and Beck noticed his aim had been

  perfect. As the vampire sunk onto the sword, the iron of the ancient

  weapon tore through his heart, one of two sure ways to kill a vampire.

  The race was tough as nails but vulnerable when it came to their

  hearts. Even a minor injury to the heart usually killed a vampire. The

  only other sure way was decapitation. Beck rolled away as fast as he

  could, knowing what would come next. Vampires didn’t die quietly.

  They sort of exploded.

  The rest of the vamps took a quick step back as their fallen

  compatriot came apart. Beck narrowly managed to avoid being

  covered in gore, but his senses filled with the smell and scent of

  blood. It did nothing to calm his inner beast. Everything inside Beck

  gloried in the death of his opponent. The female was his. They were

  attempting to take what was rightfully his.

  Beck moved out of the way of the next assault. Two vampires

  threw themselves down, one catching Beck while he was still blinded

  by the bits of dead vamp covering his eyes. Beck roared as he felt the

  vampire sink his fangs into the vulnerable flesh between his neck and

  shoulder. Luckily, he had squirmed enough so the bastard hadn’t

  gotten his jugular.

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  He heard, no, felt, Meggie’s scream. It spurred him to action. He

  took a single, strong punch to his face from a second attacking vamp.

  He saw several more stepping forward to take a shot, too. The vamp

  on his neck was trying to get a better angle. Beck reached up and

  pulled him off his back, tossing him into the vampires attacking his

  front. The place where the vamp’s fangs had sunken in ached, and

  Beck knew the vamp had gotten away with a hunk of his flesh.

  It didn’t matter. He healed quickly.

  He moved even faster. He skewered the vamp who had taken a

  chunk out of him, and his aim was perfect. The vamp exploded, even

  as he pulled his sword out and moved on to the next.

  The blood and gore was having an effect on the vamps as well.

  Two of the vampires had turned on each other. Out of the corner of

  Beck’s eye, he watched as they screamed, fangs and claws out. The

  pair attacked each other viciously. They sunk their claws into each

  other’s bellies, and the high-pitched sound of their pain hurt Beck’s

  ears. The two quickly dropped to the ground. They rolled in the sand,

  each desperate to gut the other. Vampires, for all their claims to

  civilization, were just as feral as the rest.

  There were only six left, and two were doing their damndest to

  kill each other. A fierce joy raced through him as he brought the hilt

  of his sword down on a vamp he had tripped as he attempted to run

  away. Silly creature. There was nowhere to run. He raised his sword to bring it down on the vamp’s throat. He was swinging it in an arc

  toward the unconscious rival’s body when he was tackled from the

  side. Beck roared as he toppled over.

  “Quarter!” the vampire yelled as he scrambled to get his knife

  properly in his hand. “He is out, Beck. You can’t kill a man who’s

  already gone down.”

  It was the same vampire who had drawn Dante’s ire. He was

  covered in sweat and blood. His hood had fallen back, and his pale

  skin was already burning. “Give it a rest, Beck. It’s over. The female

  is yours. We give.”

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  Beck didn’t really hear him. He simply knew he was on his back

  in a submissive position, and that would never do. With a single hand,

  he tossed the vampire away like he was a child’s toy. Somewhere in

  the back of his rage-addled head, he recognized that the gnomes had

  taken to the floor. They were trying to help out the injured

  combatants. It no longer mattered. His rage required blood.

  “He’s gone insane!” Palgrave shouted, trying to get the referee’s

  attention. “You have to put him down.” The vampire backed up as

  Beck growled low in his throat and began to stalk him. He tossed

  down his knife and showed Beck his empty hands. He had retracted

  his claws, but the fangs remained. “I concede, Beck. We all concede.”

  A horn blared. It seemed a distant, meaningless thing. There were

  still twitching bodies, so Beck knew his work couldn’t possibly be
/>   finished. His senses opened. Everywhere he smelled glorious death.

  The vamp was backed against the arena wall. He tried to shrink back

  as though he could force the stone walls to pull him in.

  “I am asking for mercy, Your Highness.” There was a hitch in the

  vampire’s voice. He pulled away as though trying to disappear into

  himself.

  Beck could smell the fear on him. It was good. He raised his

  sword as the crowd began to scream, but it was a single voice that

  stayed his hand.

  “He asked for mercy, Beck,” a soft feminine voice said. “There is

  no reason to kill him.”

  Beck turned on his heels. He sensed the vamp take the opportunity

  to run. He was too shocked by Meg’s presence to do anything about

  it. Dante stood at her side. Beck chose to turn his rage on his cousin.

  “Get her out of here. How dare you allow her on the battlefield!”

  Dante had the good sense to back up, but Meg held her ground.

  “The battle is done, cos. It’s time for you to come down now.”

  “Not until I’m finished,” Beck promised. His voice was rough

  with anger. His jealousy was taking over. What had his cousin been

  doing all this time he was sitting beside his woman? Had Dante been

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  courting her? “You should never have walked out here. Are you

  challenging me?”

  Dante’s eyes got wide, but Meg moved between them. “Beck,

  Dante is not challenging you. No one is challenging you anymore.

  They’re all running away. You scared the crap out of them.”

  Beck bared his teeth as he realized she was correct. They were

  running. He took a step and made to follow when her soft hand found

  the middle of his chest. She didn’t seem to notice he was covered in

  blood.

  “Meg, he’s too far gone,” Dante said. “You’ll have to…”

  “I heard you in the stands, Dante.” Meg placed her other hand on

  his chest and stood very close. He could smell her. She smelled sweet,

  nothing like death. Meg smelled of flowers and some womanly scent

  he couldn’t name. She smelled of life. “Beck, I’m yours. Are you

  going to leave me alone to chase after the others? Shouldn’t you take

  care of me?”

  “Not going to work, sweetheart.” Dante continued to back up.

  “Meg, if you can’t handle it, then I need for you to run. Run to the

  stands. I’ll distract him.”

  “Shut up,” Beck yelled at the vampire. His jealousy was a roiling

  pain in his gut. “You don’t talk to my mate.”

  Meg huffed at the vampire. “Fine, but you better be right. If I find

  out this was a stupid joke, I’ll stake you myself.” Beck was trying to

  move her out of the way. She threw her arms around him and went on

  her tiptoes to press her mouth against his. “Please, Your Highness, I

  am yours. You have to take care of me.”

  Beck’s sword fell to the side as another type of need blazed

  through his body.

  * * * *

  Meg took a deep breath and prayed that damn vampire was right.

  She pressed her body against Beck’s. Finally, she had his full

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  attention. Her hands were shaking as she thought about what she was

  about to do.

  Dante had been very concerned when the first vampire was killed.

  He’d explained to her that Beck’s control of his temper was a delicate

  thing. He was the warrior half of unbonded symbiotic twins. He

  needed his brother to balance him, but without a bondmate, his rage

  had begun to run unchecked. Dante had explained that if Beck went

  berserk, he would have to be killed.

  Meg didn’t want Beck killed. On the practical side, if Beck was

  killed, she wouldn’t simply be freed. She would go to the last

  competitor standing and in his right mind, and that would be a

  vampire. As much as she thought Dante was a hoot, the thought of

  being claimed by a vampire left her cold. They were too calculating

  for her tastes.

  The only way to save Beck was to turn his rage into something

  else. Dante explained that he might calm down eventually, but not

  until he’d killed the vampires and possibly the gnomes who would try

  to stop him. If they had a shot at salvaging the day, Meg was going

  have to take one for the team.

  It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t be doing it anyway, Dante had

  explained as he’d leapt over the railing. He’d turned and helped her

  down before explaining that Beck would be required to prove he

  could sexually handle a mate.

  If there had been even a second of time, Meg would have taken

  extreme issue with that, but Beck had been bearing down on a

  vampire who looked like he was about to pee his pants. She had run

  the distance between them, her bare feet sinking in the sand. She

  should have been terrified. He was a brutal fighter, and yet she knew

  he would never hurt her. Why she trusted this man she had no idea,

  but she did.

  She pressed herself up. He towered over her. His gray eyes had

  been filled with rage. Now they gleamed down on her, a mixture of

  the rage he was fighting and something else entirely.

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  “You shouldn’t have come out here.” He growled as he took her

  face between his hands. He shifted them slightly until they tangled in

  her long hair. He looked righteously masculine, and Meg felt her heart

  speed up.

  It took her a moment to form the words. “I had to come.”

  He was so close. His neck and shoulder were injured, the wounds

  seeping blood. She should be disgusted by him, but she knew she was

  seeing a piece of him that was important. He was a warrior, and not

  the kind who dropped a bomb from above or pushed a button from

  miles away. He fought in close quarters. His life was always on the

  line. He was a knight, and she suddenly felt like his lady. He had been

  intent on destruction, but she had stayed his hand. It was a heady

  feeling.

  His mouth latched on to hers. The world fell away. Somewhere in

  the back of her mind, she knew that others watched them. She could

  even hear the announcer call the battle in favor of Beck. The crowd

  cheered, and then she heard something about a public display of

  sexual compatibility, but his tongue was sweeping inside her mouth.

  He held her head where he wanted it, and she was deliciously

  powerless against his assault. Meg felt her skin tingle everywhere it

  met his. He hauled her tightly against his frame. She could feel his

  desire. His erection pressed long and thick against her belly. His body

  moved against hers, and Meg found herself rubbing helplessly against

  him.

  Meg opened her mind to the experience. It seemed like the right

  thing to do. Even as his body prodded hers, she felt his mind playing

  at the edges of her consciousness. It was almost as if there were gates

  to her mind, and like the marauder he was, Beck wanted in. Meg let

  them fall away and was suddenly overwhelmed.

  She felt Beck’s insanity seeking a place to go. Rage poured into

&nbs
p; her brain. For a second, she was suffused with it, but instinct took

  over. It was odd. She could push it out of her own mind. It was almost

  as though she was a filter for him. The rage swept over her. It was so

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  powerful that she was shocked Beck hadn’t killed everyone. He

  kissed her as his rage moved from his mind into hers, and then like a

  faucet that had been turned from cold to hot, it was replaced with

  desire. It raced through her body like a wildfire, and this time, she

  didn’t try to filter it. She wanted this feeling. It was completely

  different than anything she had experienced before. This wasn’t the

  sweet, slow arousal she normally experienced that typically led to

  nowhere. This was a blazing aggression that she knew would end with

  a dominant, overwhelming pleasure. This need would not be denied.

  Meg sighed and gave over to Beck when she realized that what

  she was feeling was his arousal. He wanted her, needed her. It was a

  desperate thing. He was starving for her, and everything female in her

  needed to feed him.

  Meg tightened her arms around him, reveling in the hard feel of

  his muscles. His hand slipped inside the gossamer bodice of her robe

  and closed over her breast. His thumb brushed the nipple. She cried

  out against his mouth. He was hot to the touch.

  “You feel so good.” Beck’s voice was a low growl, and there was

  an almost drugged quality to it.

  Meg’s hands went to the front of her robe. She felt how much it

  would please him to see her. He wanted to look at her breasts and see

  her pussy. He wanted to lay her bare and fuck her until she couldn’t

  remember a time he wasn’t inside her. She couldn’t hear his words,

  but she filled in the intent. Meg started to pull off her robe, but his

  hand came out and stopped her. His face was filled with a savage

  possessiveness. Meg felt the fine edge of madness was still present,

  still trying to take over.

  “No,” he bit out, the word grinding between his teeth. “That is

  mine. It is not for their eyes. On your knees, bondmate. They need a

  show before I can claim you, but they will not see you.”

  He pushed her down by her shoulders. Her knees hit the sand,

  sinking in slightly. Meg felt like the entire episode was a hazy, utterly