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Fast. Cunning. Greedy.

Cowards in packs, but deadly when cornered.

And they took my woman.

My mate.

And not just to scare her.

Not just to make a point.

To breed her.

Rage coils low in my gut, a venomous heat that scorches through me, barely leashed.

See, these dickheads are no better than their wild cousins.

They don’t cherish and value their females—mainly cause there aren’t many. So a Serval pride shares one female.

They call her their queen, but she’s more slave than royalty.

Male Servals don’t value females.

They use them up. One at a time.

But they don’t take turns to be polite.

They do it to ensure pregnancy. They claim a female biologically, chemically—brutally.

One after the other.

Vile motherfuckers.

They will kidnap a woman if she is unwilling. Keep her locked inside and breed her until she can’t fucking walk.

They only stop when she conceives one of their young and no one knows who the fuck the father is.

Pieces of shit. Don’t deserve to live.

And they want to do that to Arliss.

My Arliss.

“Are you sure, man?” Zeke asks.

“Yeah, I read the accounts. But I guess I didn’t take them seriously enough. I mean who does that kind of thing in today’s world?”

I fucking hate myself for not running them out of town.

But I guess I thought maybe those were old wives’ tales.

Same as with the Rut.

At least, that was my secret hope.

But I know better now.

“No worries, brother, we will get her back. These Servals messed with the wrong woman. They won’t succeed.”