Page 74 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

74

Fight to the Death

S adie

Anubis and the super-bear are already engaged in a fight. Anubis is using his spear, trying to get close enough to get a good jab in. Their height disparity, Anubis’s lack of an adequate weapon, and the length of the bear’s teeth and claws, all add up to a clear outcome. There’s no way either of us is going to walk away from this.

I charge in, wanting to spear the thing under his ribcage and thrust up. My five-foot spear is too short. If I get close enough to hurt the animal, I’m within reach of his arms and deadly claws.

“Sadie. I beg of you. Please run. It will gut me to see him hurt you.”

I can’t spare a look at Anubis, but the sound of his voice is desperate, pleading.

I’m not going to run. I’m staying till the bitter end. A frontal attack is out of the question. I edge to the animal’s side, but he turns to snap at me, his sharp teeth inches from making contact. I’m so scared I feel a heaviness in my chest like I’m having a heart attack. One more attempt and I’m afraid the beast will chomp my head off. It’s clear I won’t be able to help Anubis fight the thing.

Anubis isn’t the only one who won’t be able to tolerate seeing the other killed. The drones won’t have to shoot me if Anubis dies. This will decimate me. I can’t believe how bonded I feel after only a few days with this male.

“If you won’t run,” he says, “at least step behind me.”

I comply, knowing I can’t be of help anyway. At least he knows I’ll be with him until the end.

He grunts long and low. It’s as if the bear just sliced him with his claws, but Anubis is unharmed. His entire body bows back into an almost unnatural position, then he hunches forward. All the while, he’s grunting. Until it turns into a howl.

Something’s going on with his back between his shoulder blades. It’s almost as if there’s a light shining underneath his skin. It’s not the blue lights I’ve grown used to. It’s red.

I know I’m not hallucinating because Anubis uses his free hand to reach that exact spot. He touches back there, almost as if he’s trying to shoo off a bee. Then he returns to his fight.

“Sadie!” he growls, his voice so hoarse and gravelly it doesn’t sound like him. Then the noises that escape his throat don’t sound humanoid at all. He’s not growling like an angry male, he’s growling like an animal.

The fur stands up on his body—at least what I can see of his back. His howling is constant now, as if it could go on forever without him grabbing a breath.

I know I’m imagining it, but did he just grow a foot taller? Or more. Something’s happening for which I have no frame of reference. My brain can’t make sense of what my eyes are seeing.

When he tosses his spear to the ground, I edge backward, knowing all hope is lost. Although the spear was practically useless, Anubis has clearly lost his mind.

He bounds around the bear and leaps onto the beast’s back, riding him like it’s a rodeo event. When he glances at me, I can’t believe what I see. His eyes are so red they’re almost glowing in the darkening gloam.

He doesn’t seem to see me, doesn’t acknowledge me. He opens his mouth—wide. Maybe it’s the adrenaline slamming through my body, but I could swear his teeth are several inches longer than they were only hours before when we shared that sweet kiss atop the boulder.

With one menacing snarl, he opens even wider, turns, and sinks those powerful, deadly teeth into the back of the bear’s neck.

The tables have turned on the bear, and he growls in anger, turning his head to snap at his foe as he rises onto his hind legs again, trying to reach him with his lethal front claws. Anubis’s jaws seem to squeeze tighter, his teeth are biting deeper, and he tugs back and forth like my dog used to do with his pull toys back home.

There’s nothing playful about this, though. Anubis wants to kill the beast. I step back—way back—to get out of the way when the bear circles. His movements become wilder as he tries to, if not bite his attacker, then at least toss Anubis off his back.

Anubis is hanging on for dear life. My heart is thumping in my chest as I watch the male I love in a life-and-death struggle with an animal twice his size. He’s sunk his claws into the front of the bear’s neck. They’re in so deep, I see red blood oozing from each puncture. While Anubis is holding on with his claws, he’s still chomping and tearing at the back of the bear’s neck.

I realize the bear is so consumed with the deadly canine on his back, he’s completely forgotten about me. Grabbing my spear tighter, I watch and wait for just the right moment.

There seems to be a pattern the bear follows: several rotations to the right as he snaps at Anubis without making contact, then a roar of pain followed by a change in direction.

I pause, burying my terror and dredging up my courage. I’ll need it for what I need to do. I assess the beast’s movements until I figure the best time in the routine to attack. As he approaches the end of his lunge to the right, I ease forward, one slow, silent step at a time.

He swivels, moves left, and that’s when I approach and spear the motherfucker right where I’d planned all along—right below the ribs, with a thrust up and in, directly where I hope his heart is.

He bellows as his eyes open preternaturally wide. When he forgets the animal on his back and charges at me, I flee. My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking. I’ve never been this afraid in my life.

Although I don’t take the time to look at the life and death battle, I feel the slightest relief when the bear yelps in pain once, twice, three times, then breathes heavily in an agonized pant.

I keep running until I hear no signs of struggle behind me.

When I finally gather the courage to stop and turn around, the bear is on the ground, barely moving, grunting in pain. Anubis must have used his prodigious claws to pierce the bear’s eyes. His claws are still embedded there, with blood running down the bear’s tortured face.

Anubis removes his fangs long enough to grab a huff of air, then bites the bear’s throat, sinking his fangs into the jugulars again and again until his foe slumps to the ground, clearly dead.

I run toward Anubis, wanting to see and possibly treat any injuries he sustained.

Maybe it’s all the adrenaline coursing through my body, but although it’s impossible, I could swear Anubis is bigger than he was. As I step closer, I’m sure of not only that, but his claws and teeth seem longer, too.

What I’d convinced myself was a trick of light can’t explain his glowing red eyes. I’m still in denial, though, until the male I just professed to love looks at me as if he’s never seen me before. He menaces me with a long, low growl, complete with snarling lips, that culminates in a vicious snap of those deadly teeth. Luckily, he’s still on top of the bear, so he isn’t close enough to bite me… yet.