Page 24 of Mated
He seems decent despite his rougher treatment of Diana, and I feel stupid for thinking he was trying something with his shifter powers. Maybe the guy just smells that good.
Which I would have never noticed before but the new abilities are hard to grasp. To control. It may not be his fault at all.
My cheeks heat. “That sounds cool,” I say, and mean it. “Would it be possible to check out the full moon too?”
He grins. “Why, Ms. Rawlins, I was hoping you would.”
Chapter 11
Nisha
The fields of Silver Rock are open flat plains of green. A few food trucks park at intervals in the shade, awnings up as people, no,shifterscrowd the windows. Small children, maybe as young as six and as old as thirteen, play corn hole and toss footballs back and forth. A handful of stereos blare everything from heavy metal to rap. One or two blast an older country station, the speakers trying to drown out the rest of the music as their owners sing off key to the songs.
It's like a fucking family barbecue of the furry sort.
Across the fields, what looks like a running track has been set up and a large crowd has formed as several older teens race around the old dirt oval. Beyond that, picnic tables rest under a few tall pines, offering a mediocre amount of shade from the oppressive heat that only seems to grow worse the longer the sun is in the sky. I walk toward them, fully intending to sit down and just watch.
The ground slopes off on the horizon beyond the tables, and a network of rocks and roots span in the shade of several towering oaks.
I walk closer, taking in the largest crowd yet.
At the edge of the basin, the ground rolls down, packed tight with small, jagged looking rocks. The only thing that would make them appear deadlier would be if they were already covered in blood.
But on the basin floor, in the center of a ring of shifters, two men brawl. One is darker skinned in jeans and no shoes. But the other? The other makes me stop breathing.
Tanner is shirtless, his jeans low over the gorgeous v of his hips. His back ripples as he locks his arms around the other male's neck. His size makes sense now, the agility. He’s a natural born brawler. An MMA artist.
The tattoos I only glimpsed yesterday span across his arms, pecs, and top half of his shoulders as his fists fly in a blur. Smack after smack echoes through the basin. He walks the other male back one punch at a time. And I wince with every blow that falls.
And boy do they fall.
Blood sprays in an arc, staining the compacted dirt and Tanner’s skin. But he never stops.
The man is all machine and single-minded focus. A chill goes down my spine. Tanner locks his hands into the other man's waistband, leans back, and lifts.
My eyes pop damn near out of my skull as he tosses the man like a Frisbee across the earthen arena. The man starts to rise and slumps to the dirt.
Tanner throws his head back, arms wide, and roars.
The crowd goes fucking nuts, women screaming and men cheering. He turns slowly, a grin of power and pure strength plastered across his face, but his teeth are too long, too pointed.
His eyes glow like silver moons, and his damn hands have long claws protruding from the tips as he claps hands with Caine. I stare at Tanner.
Shifter.
He's a fucking shifter.
That heat inside me grows.
He can fix this, ease this…
Embarrassment floods through my veins.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Tanner is a stranger. A damn brawling monkey.
My eyes narrow.
