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Chapter five

Felix

I ron’s Paradise occupied two floors of a converted factory building in the Crossroads, with heavy bags suspended from steel beams and sparring mats that had seen enough action to tell stories.

“This place caters to Shifters,” Annabella explained as we walked through the entrance, though I would have known that from the scents that hit me: multiple species and the sharp tang of aggression that came with predators testing themselves against each other.

“Neutral ground. No Pack political bullshit, no species hierarchy. Just skill.”

Duke shouldered past me toward the check-in counter. “Hope you’re ready, boy. This isn’t gonna be like whatever pussy training you’re used to.”

Boy?

“Looking forward to it.” I grinned back at him.

His eyes narrowed, apparently pissed off that I wasn’t intimidated.

Mira bounced on her toes beside me, platform boots adding at least three inches to her tiny frame. “I love this place. Best Wi-Fi in the district, and they have protein smoothies that don’t taste like chalk.”

The main floor stretched out before us, divided into different training areas. Free weights dominated one section, heavy bags hung in perfect rows through the center, and several padded sparring rings occupied the far end.

“Alright,” Annabella announced, dropping her gym bag beside one of the rings. “Felix, you’re up first. Duke, you get the honor.”

Duke’s grin could have lit up the building. “Gladly.”

I shrugged out of my jacket, aware of Annabella watching my every movement.

She wanted a show? I’d give her a show.

Her hazel eyes tracked the motion of my shoulders as I stretched, preparing for what was coming, flexing just enough to let her see exactly what she was working with. I waited until her gaze came back up and met mine. She blinked once before looking away.

“Rules?” I asked, stepping onto the mat.

“Simple,” Annabella replied. “No Shifting, no magic, no permanent damage. First one to tap out loses.”

Duke cracked his neck, rolling his massive shoulders. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll try not to mess up that face too much.”

I bit back my first three responses and settled for, “Appreciate the consideration.”

We circled each other on the mat, Duke moving with surprising grace for someone built like a refrigerator. He was bigger, probably stronger, and definitely more aggressive. But he was also broadcasting his intentions like a neon sign.

He lunged first, going for a takedown that would have worked on someone who had no clue what they were doing. I sidestepped, and, as he went past, swept his legs. Duke hit the mat hard but rolled immediately, coming up swinging.

His fist whistled past my ear. I grabbed his extended arm, twisted it, and had him in an arm bar before he could adjust. For about two seconds.

Duke powered out of the hold with sheer strength, spinning to face me with a snarl building in his throat. “Lucky shot.”

“If you say so.”

This time he was more careful, more tactical. We grappled across the mat, neither gaining a decisive advantage. Duke had raw power on his side, but I had technique and speed. Every time he thought he had me pinned, I slipped out. Every time I set up a submission, he muscled free.

“Not bad,” Annabella called out. “But this isn’t a dance, Felix. Show me what happens when someone threatens our crew.”

Our crew. The words hit harder than they should have. I wasn’t part of her crew. I was here to destroy it. But something about the way she said it, the assumption that I belonged somewhere, made my chest tighten.

Duke took advantage of my momentary distraction. As I half-turned toward Annabella’s voice, he ducked low and spun behind me. Before I could pivot to face him again, his arm locked around my throat in a chokehold.

“Tap out, pretty boy,” he growled in my ear.

Instead, I grabbed his forearm with both hands and dropped my weight, using leverage to flip him over my shoulder.

He crashed to the mat, and I was on him instantly, knee pressed to his chest, my forearm pressed across his throat in a choke that would have him unconscious in seconds if he didn’t submit.

“Tap,” I said quietly, applying just enough pressure to make my point clear.

Duke’s eyes blazed with fury as he felt his air supply being cut off. His hand slapped against my arm three times—the universal signal for submission.

I released him, rolling back to give him space. Duke gasped, touching his throat gingerly as he sat up.

“Point to Felix,” Annabella announced, though her voice carried a note I couldn’t quite identify.

I stood and offered Duke a hand up. He ignored it, rolling to his feet with wounded pride radiating from every pore.

“Lucky,” he muttered.

“Want to try again?” I asked.

“Boys,” Annabella interrupted before Duke could respond.

“We’re here to train, not settle personal scores.

” She took off her oversized sweater as she stepped onto the mat, and my mouth went dry.

Her workout clothes left little to the imagination: form-fitting leggings that showed off the curve of her hips and a sports bra that revealed the lean muscle of her torso and arms. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, the motion highlighting the elegant line of her neck and the defined muscles in her shoulders.

Every inch of her radiated controlled power, like a weapon that had been honed to perfection.

“My turn,” she said simply.

“You sure about this?”

“Worried you can’t handle me?”

Heat shot straight to parts of my anatomy that had no business responding to a target. “Just being a gentleman.”

“I’m not asking for gentlemanly treatment. I’m asking you to show me what you’re capable of.”

She circled me, and immediately, I knew this would be different from fighting Duke. Annabella moved like water, flowing and unpredictable.

She attacked without warning, a combination of strikes that forced me backward. I blocked most of them, but she was faster than Duke and twice as technical. A low kick caught me behind the knee, and I stumbled.

Annabella pressed her advantage, going for a takedown.

We went down together, hitting the mat in a tangle of limbs.

For a moment, she was on top of me, her hands pressed to my chest, her face inches from mine.

Her breathing hitched, her lips parted, and it would have been so easy to close the distance between us and feel her lips on mine.

Where the fuck had that thought come from?

I caught her hands and rolled us until she was pinned beneath me. Her eyes went wide with surprise, then darkened with something I couldn’t quite read.

This was it. I could end this now, secure the submission. But that would make me look too capable, too much like a threat to her leadership. Felix Masters needed to be good, not great.

Before I even finished that thought, though, she bucked her hips and twisted, slipping out from under me.

She came at me again, this time mixing grappling with strikes. I caught her wrist as she threw a punch, twisted to avoid her knee, and spun her around. My arm went around her waist from behind, and for a heartbeat, she was pressed back against my chest, her scent filling my senses.

“Tired?”

“Just getting warmed up,” she replied and then drove her elbow into my ribs.

Hard.

I grunted, and she broke free, facing me with a grin that was pure predator.

A sheen of sweat had formed on her forehead, and I could feel my own shirt starting to stick to my back.

We grappled again, a chess match of technique versus strength. Where Duke had been a sledgehammer, Annabella was a scalpel—all precision and timing. She’d slip from holds that should have finished most opponents, her body somehow finding impossible escapes.

She was fast. Really fast.

Without rules, without holding back, could I actually take her? And wouldn’t it be fucking fun to find out?

“What the hell is that doing here?” The voice was loud enough to cut through the ambient noise of the gym.

We both turned to see a man standing near the free weights, staring directly at Mira.

He was compact and wiry, maybe five-foot-nine in expensive cross-trainers that added at least an inch to his height.

Designer athleticwear clung to his frame, and he wore a thick gold chain around his neck.

His hair was styled with too much product, and he held himself like someone constantly ready to prove something—chin lifted slightly too high, shoulders pulled back in exaggerated confidence.

His scent marked him as a bear Shifter, but everything about his posture screamed overcompensation. Two other Shifters flanked him—a wolf and another bear, both bigger but clearly following his lead. They’d stopped their own workouts to watch, moving closer with hungry interest.

Annabella crossed the mat, wiping her face with her towel. “Fuck off, Gethin, we’re busy here.”

Gethin stepped closer to Mira, his lip curled in distaste. “I’m not talking to you, half-breed. I’m talking to the fucking pet human you brought in here. This is a Shifter gym. We come here to get away from your kind.”

Mira’s face went pale, then flushed red. “I’m just—”

“You’re just what? Lost?” Gethin’s voice rose, drawing attention from other gym patrons. “This ain’t some tourist attraction, little girl. We don’t need humans gawking at us.”

“She’s with us,” Annabella said firmly, stepping closer to Mira.

Gethin laughed. “With you? What, as a mascot? A pet?” He looked Mira up and down with obvious contempt. “I bet you’re one of those humans who thinks we’re all just misunderstood puppies, right? That we can all live together in perfect harmony?”

“Why don’t you fuck off? I’m just here with my friends.”

“Friends?” Gethin’s voice dripped with disbelief.

“Sweetheart, your kind are demanding we get locked up in camps. Half the towns in this country have already kicked us out, and the other half are talking about segregation districts.” His voice rose with each word.

“Humans are calling all Shifters animals that need to be contained, and you think you can just waltz in here like nothing’s wrong? ”

“That’s not—I’m not like that,” Mira protested.

“Sure you’re not,” Gethin snarled, stepping closer until he was looming over her.

His friends moved in behind him, forming a loose semicircle.

“You’re here watching us train, taking mental notes.

What’s the plan? Report back to your human buddies about our weaknesses?

Help them figure out better ways to control us? ”

“Back the fuck off, Gethin,” Duke growled.

“Or what, Duke? We’re fighting for our lives out there.

Ripple’s destroying our communities, humans are calling us monsters, and you’re bringing one of them into our safe spaces?

” He jabbed a finger toward Mira. “She doesn’t belong here.

None of them do. They want us gone, so why the hell are we letting them in? ”

“I’m not your enemy,” Mira whispered.

“Your people sure act like it.” Gethin’s smile turned ugly, his gaze raking over Mira’s frame. “Maybe we should take you out back and show you just how animal we really are. Give you something real to report back about.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mira start to shake.

That’s when my control snapped.

I wasn’t sure who moved first—me or Annabella, Duke just a step behind. My fist connected with Gethin’s jaw before he could react, snapping his head back. While he was still reeling, I fisted my hand in his designer shirt and lifted him clean off his feet.

Next to me, Annabella had twisted one of his buddies’ arms behind his back, forcing the wolf Shifter to bend forward at the waist. One more inch of pressure and his shoulder would dislocate. The third guy was being held by the throat against the nearest wall by Duke.

“Here’s the thing,” I said conversationally. “She’s with us. That means you don’t go near her, you don’t look at her, and you sure as fuck don’t talk to her.”

Gethin tried to puff up, but it’s hard to look intimidating when someone has you by the shirt, and your backup is being neutralized. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“I know exactly who I’m messing with,” I replied.

“A small-time wannabe who picks on women to make himself feel like his small dick isn’t the issue.

” I leaned closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear.

“Listen carefully. Touch her—touch any of them—and I’ll hunt you down and tear out your throat. ”

I released him with enough force to send him stumbling backward.

Gethin looked around the gym and realized he had zero support from the other patrons. “This isn’t over,” he muttered.

“Yeah, it is,” Annabella said coldly.

For a moment, I thought he might actually go for Annabella. I growled in warning, and he jerked his head toward his buddies.

He’d gone five steps before he turned and proved that some guys just didn’t fucking learn. “I know who you are, half-breed. You can’t watch your pet all the time, and when you least expect it, I’m gonna be there waiting.” He winked at Mira, then stalked to the exit.

I watched them pile into a brown SUV, memorizing the license plate as they peeled out of the parking lot.

“I… I’m sorr—”

“Don’t you fucking dare apologize, Mira. You did nothing wrong.” Annabella threw her towel in her bag. “Come on, let’s head back to base.”

Mira nodded, her face pale. She was the tech genius of the crew—brilliant with computers, not hand-to-hand.

Probably didn’t often face the raw hatred some Shifters had for humans these days.

She was just a kid caught in the crossfire of this fucked-up war brewing between Shifters, witches, and humans.

My wolf prowled restlessly inside me, wanting to hunt Gethin down and teach him what happened to people who threatened those under my protection.

That license plate would come in handy. I was already thinking of ways to ensure Gethin would regret his little performance today.