“Good idea,” Owyn agreed, even though he wasn’t part of the conversation. “Keep that shit quiet or she’ll have a fight on her hands.”
The wolf turned to face him, eyes narrowed. “Your kind can’t take no for an answer,” he sneered. “The way you treat your females is a disgrace. Ain’t no wonder half your species is in hiding.”
“Red,” Cleaver snapped with a shake of his head.
Red sat back on his stool and crossed his arms, quiet for several minutes. “You one of them?” he asked finally.
Owyn swigged his beer. “Them?”
“You from that clan down south? The one that doesn’t mate.”
Best to ignore that question.
The wolf grunted as Cleaver poured him a shot of whiskey. “Wonder how long that’ll last. Can’t go your whole life without mating if you ever want offspring. Your pack’ll die out.”
“Clan,” Owyn corrected. “Cats have clans. Wolves have packs.”
He raised an eyebrow, and his glass, before slamming it back.
“Well, good on ya, man. Better than whittlin’ away at your females I guess. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. But at least you ain’t an asshole like that fella over there.”
Oh, he was an asshole. There was no helping that. But at least he wasn’t chaining a female to that for eternity.
Owyn finished his beer, and another, before he’d wallowed in the past enough to feel he’d paid Mandi’s ghost her due. Tossing some bills on the counter, he thanked Cleaver and made his way out to the parking lot.
The entire area was surrounded by trees, sitting at the very edge of a place so tiny it was a death away from being a ghost town.
Owyn wound past vehicles until he reached the back corner where his truck was parked. Digging in his pocket for his keys, he froze when a terrified shriek rocketed through the trees beyond the lot.
He shook his head, unsure if he was imagining things. But then a roar… a very animalistic roar made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. Something was wrong. And if his instincts were anything to go by, it involved shifters.
The town was small, but there were still unsuspecting humans around. If they got in the way, someone could get hurt. It was why fights were supposed to stay contained to Cleaver’s.
Owyn ran past the truck and into the trees, following the sounds of snarling. He pulled to a stop in a small clearing, the sight before him stealing his breath as if he’d taken a hit to the gut.
A female panther lay hissing on the leaf covered ground, blood gushing from three long slashes across her torso. The male from the bar, the one looking for his mate, stood over her, his long, stringy hair falling over his face.
“You bitch,” he spat, and Owyn realized the man was holding his crotch with a bloody hand. “Look what you made me do. You’re all torn up now. Probably couldn’t give me young. Shit.”
The cat snarled at him even though she was clearly bleeding out from the wound he’d inflicted.
“Useless,” he muttered, kneeling beside her and placing his palm against her chest.
He was trying to heal her with their mating bond. Owyn let out a breath of relief. Watching another female die, even one who wasn’t part of his clan, would be too much.
But her wounds didn’t close as they should, and she let out another tortured scream, making Owyn’s stomach curl in warning.
“You owe me this,” the lion shifter gritted. “I’ll use this bond to fix what you did to my goods before you die, and then I won’t give you another thought. Bitches like you who can’t submit, don’t deserve to live. Especially when you can’t give me cubs.”
Fucking hell.
The bastard wasn’t trying to heal her. He was attempting to heal himself. From a wound that was clearly superficial. Something his lion could heal for him. He was moving after all, while she was sliced open to the guts.
Owyn blinked, unable to believe what was happening, refusing to admit any of his kind could be so cruel.
At that moment, the panther swung her head around, trying in vain to escape the sick bastard. Her pain-filled gaze caught on Owyn and his breath stalled again. Those big brown eyes, still holding on to shreds of hope, locked him into a path he could never regret no matter what happened after this night.
Kill. Defend. Save.
Owyn’s panther clawed at this chest, demanding to be let out. He couldn’t hold it in, and part of him felt relief that his animal wouldn’t stand for this injustice any more than the man in him could. He wasn’t a monster, and neither was Magic or Renner or Eagan or any of his clan. The monsters didn’t exist just because there was a wild, instinctual animal inside them. No tradition they’d been taught by their ancestors could make a monster. No mistake of youth could change who they really were inside.