Amber twisted and struggled. He slashed deep furrows in the hyena's powerful chest but those mighty jaws remained deeply clenched. Greeves shook Amber, tossing him back and forth until the mountain lion's struggles lessened, grew more feeble, then finally stopped. Sobs choked my throat and tears poured down my face as those beautiful amber eyes closed. The once majestic cat became dead weight, dragging the hyena forward until it stood breathing heavily over him.
"No! No…" I moaned in the sudden quiet. "Amber…"
Amber's yellow eyes suddenly flashed opened and four razor-sharp claws swiped with great force at the hyena's vulnerable underbelly, slashing it open with ripping ease. Rich, tangy blood spurted. Intestines bulged and swelled and pushed out. And those viciously strong hyena jaws unlocked and released. With a chilling howl of outrage and pain, the hyena loped away.
Amber rolled slowly to his feet, precious blood dripping from the gaping wound at his throat, his breathing harsh and belabored. No one moved.
Sandoor broke the silence. "Next challenger?"
No one stepped forward.
"Amber wins," Sandoor declared, his voice rich with satisfaction and pride.
I moved to go to Amber but Aquila restrained me, shaking his head warningly.
A shimmer of energy and Amber was kneeling in the clearing, tan skin above the waist, pale white flesh down below, both colors ribboned with red blood. Flesh had been torn from his throat, and his chest, torso, and legs were ripped open from slashing claws. With effort, Amber staggered to his pants, and pulled them on. He lifted his eyes with tired alertness as Romulus approached him, restraints in hand.
Amber turned and sought me out, casting me a wild pleading glance, his eyes still that unsettling yellow color. I desperately wished I knew what he wanted me to do. Break free? Try to escape? Even if I could, it would be a futile attempt. More than half the men were still present, rested, whole, healthy, uninjured.
When I made no move, Amber held out his hands, despair flooding his eyes as the manacles clamped shut about his large wrists. He turned his pleading gaze to his father.
"Return them back to join Mona Carlisse," Sandoor commanded.
Romulus took hold of Amber's arm. Amber resisted.
"Allow me stay here, outside, tonight," Amber asked Sandoor, his ragged voice a low harsh sound.
"No." His father shook his head. "I am sorry, son." As if the words had released a sudden trigger, Amber began struggling in quiet earnestness. Another blond man joined Romulus and helped subdue Amber. Together they dragged Amber forward. Aquila removed the dagger from my throat. "Can you walk?"
"I can certainly try." My quivering legs felt like jelly but I was able to walk back to the stone hut that would imprison us. Sandoor unlocked the thing metal door and I hobbled inside.
"Father, please do not do this," Amber said hoarsely. "I beg of you."
Sandoor's voice was chillingly sincere. "It is for your own good, son." The terrible thing was that he truly meant it.
Amber's roar shook the air. "Do not do this to me!"
But they pushed him inside.
The door clanged shut behind Amber, locking him in.
Chapter Thirteen
"Amber," I cried, moving toward him.
"Don't!" he said, his voice terribly strained.
"But you're hurt…"
"Do as he says!" Mona Carlisse snapped from across the room. "Back away slowly from him," she instructed more quietly.
Amber leaned with his back slumped against the door, fear and rage filling his eyes, a potent combustible combination. "Do as she says!" he rasped harshly.
I eased into the corner where he had nursed me, kept me alive, and sank onto the blanket. "Amber." My voice came out small, timid. "What's wrong?"
Mona Carlisse's voice floated out in the darkness, her voice tight with strain. "He is fresh from battle and from shifting. His blood still pounds with bloodlust and his body demands relief."
"How can he gain relief?" I asked, already knowing I would not like the answer.
"Blood or sex. They usually hunt afterward to burn off the powerful tension."
But they hadn't allowed Amber to hunt. They had locked him here inside instead, with two Queens and his natural powerful attraction to them, allowing it to stir and stimulate his already violent emotions. They had only allowed him one outlet. Sex.
I understood it now. They expected him to be violent. He expected himself to be violent and he feared it. Mona Carlisse feared it. Her alarm pulsed like an audible call in air that was already thick with the smell and scent of spent passion.
Amber trembled. His muscles locked. His arms and thighs bulged with threatening strength. He gasped in air desperately like a drowning man. Spinning, he violently struck his shackles against the door so that it shook. Metal rang against metal in a sickening, angry desperate clanging.
"Let me out! Let me out!" His rage was terrible. He pounded the door, smashing metal again and again until it dented. He spun suddenly, taking a few steps forward, making Mona Carlisse gasp in fright. He threw a viciously bitter look of hatred at her then threw himself against the door. Unbound by silver, he could have ripped the door apart. Even just human strong, he could do a lot of damage. Three hundred pounds worth of damage. He battered the door, battered himself mercilessly, shaking the metal, rattling its hinges, coating it with his blood. But it held. He slid down to the ground, his face pressed against the door.
"Amber," I called to him, my voice was low, calm. "Come to me."
He stiffened, his ragged breathing the only harsh sound. Then he burst into explosive motion once again, pounding himself against the stone wall this time, against the weakest point where the wall abutted the door. He battered himself over and over like a human ram. Dust flew but the stubborn stone held. He braced his great weight against the wall and pushed, grunting, straining. He arms bulged and trembled, his back rippling so that all his muscles was thrown into sharp delineation. But he was no Samson, no mythical Hercules. With a sob he collapsed, unable to escape, a wild animal caught in an unbreakable trap.
Welling up within me was an undeniable, instinctive urge to soothe and comfort, to ease his horrid suffering. You could get your well-meaning hands ripped off trying to help a wild beast. I knew that fact well. Oh, yes. But I was more than willing to risk it.
"Amber. Come to me. Trust me."
He shook his bowed head, his matted, disheveled hair flung wildly across his face like a madman. "Don't! Oh, Goddess. OhGoddessohGoddess…"
What his own father was doing to him with knowing deliberation was far worse than what Miles had done to me with the aphrodisiac. How could a father do this to his own son? How could a mother give away her own child to strangers! a small voice within me whispered. I let my eyes fall down to the pitiful suffering animal huddled on the dirt floor before me and had one of those sudden insights. Perhaps, by giving me away, Mona Sera had done me more good than I had realized. At least I'd had Helen and her warm love for those first six years of my life.
Amber's head slowly lifted. Feral amber eyes, inhuman eyes, gleamed in the darkness at the huddled figure in the far corner—Mona Carlisse. Crouching on hands and knees, he took a gliding step in that direction, his belly low to the ground, a great cat stalking his prey.
"No, Amber," I said.
His voice rumbled deep in his chest with effort, as if it was hard for him to form human words. "I'd rather hurt her than you."
And I was struck again with another insight. Sandoor had known, had deliberately left Mona Carlisse here knowing his son would choose this, knowing that once Amber raped a Queen, he could never go back, that then he'd have to stay with this band of outcasts forever.