The King takes a Mate: Paranormal Shape Shifter Alpha Male Cage Fighter Werelion pregnancy romance (Shifter Fight League Book 4) by Mina Carter
Authors: Mina Carter
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Chapter 1
S hifters were hard to kill . It was one reason the Shifter Fight League was so popular. The viewing public got all the thrills of a full-contact blood sport, but with fighters who could play chicken with a bus at Mach one and come out the other side. All the blood and aggression, but with less guilt since most shifters could knock seven bells out of each other and meet the next day for a few beers and a game of pool.
Most shifters.
“Will he be okay?” Zara asked with concern, her voice soft. They occupied one of the private rooms in the league’s medical center — all clean white walls and scrubbed floors. The scent of pine and bleach, smells that when combined screamed hospital, filled the air.
The league’s medic, Ethan Kingwood, bent at the waist to check the young man lying supine on the bed. His name was Johnson Black, a fighter with the league who’d been injured when working undercover to expose an illegal underground fight club run by Zara’s father. Fighting to free Zara and other captives being offered as fight prizes, he’d ended up with a slashed throat for his troubles.
All because of her.
Zara worried at her lower lip as she watched the medic work. Deep inside, her lioness rumbled in concern. The male had fought well, something the cat appreciated, and it didn’t like to see a strong man brought so low.
Eyes closed, Johnson lay flat on his back with his arms by his sides. His skin was so pale it was difficult to work out where the sheets ended and his skin began. The only color about him was the vivid scarlet slash across the front of his throat. Zara didn’t need any medical knowledge to understand it was a killing wound… and it wasn’t healing properly. Or at all. The wet edges glistened in the light with each breath he took. Breaths he shouldn’t have been able to take — not with a gash in his throat from ear to ear.
Ethan straightened up and ran his hand over his close-cropped hair with a sigh. His gaze didn’t leave his patient, expression frustrated. “If he was a shifter, I’d say no.”
“No?” Her heart dropped at his words. Johnson Black would die, all because he’d tried to save her. She looked up at the tall medic, confusion rolling through her. “Wait…what did you just say?”
He cut a glance sideways at her. “If he was a shifter, he’d already be dead. Even with our rate of healing, a wound like that is just too grievous.”
Her mouth fell open as his words sank in, and then she shut it with a click. “Let me get this right. You’re telling me he’s not a shifter?”
Ethan nodded slowly, holding her gaze. He was a werewolf. His scent wrapped around her, irritating her cat, which responded with a low growl, but she told the creature firmly to behave. He was no threat to them. A veteran, he was also a trained medic who had experience dealing with shifters. So he knew what he was talking about. If he said Johnson wasn’t a shifter, he wasn’t a shifter.
“But… He was… How did he…?” She shook her head, shutting her mouth as she tried to work through all the questions rolling through her head.
Only shifters could fight in the league. It was one of the rules… in fact, one of the main rules they had. Only shifters were hardy enough for the punishing fights staged every weekend. Even other paranormals would be badly injured or even killed outright in some of the bouts.
Johnson had been fighting in the league for months. If he wasn’t a shifter, how had he passed the tests to get in? Why had no one realized until now that he wasn’t actually a shifter? How the hell could a non-shifter have even managed the training and fights he had?
Crap, he was one of the fighters from her own club, the Scarlet Moon , which meant this was on her and her brother, Kylan. Letting non-shifters fight would normally mean that a manager lost their club, no questions asked.
Her cat chuffed in amusement as her hand drifted down to smooth over her still flat
S hifters were hard to kill . It was one reason the Shifter Fight League was so popular. The viewing public got all the thrills of a full-contact blood sport, but with fighters who could play chicken with a bus at Mach one and come out the other side. All the blood and aggression, but with less guilt since most shifters could knock seven bells out of each other and meet the next day for a few beers and a game of pool.
Most shifters.
“Will he be okay?” Zara asked with concern, her voice soft. They occupied one of the private rooms in the league’s medical center — all clean white walls and scrubbed floors. The scent of pine and bleach, smells that when combined screamed hospital, filled the air.
The league’s medic, Ethan Kingwood, bent at the waist to check the young man lying supine on the bed. His name was Johnson Black, a fighter with the league who’d been injured when working undercover to expose an illegal underground fight club run by Zara’s father. Fighting to free Zara and other captives being offered as fight prizes, he’d ended up with a slashed throat for his troubles.
All because of her.
Zara worried at her lower lip as she watched the medic work. Deep inside, her lioness rumbled in concern. The male had fought well, something the cat appreciated, and it didn’t like to see a strong man brought so low.
Eyes closed, Johnson lay flat on his back with his arms by his sides. His skin was so pale it was difficult to work out where the sheets ended and his skin began. The only color about him was the vivid scarlet slash across the front of his throat. Zara didn’t need any medical knowledge to understand it was a killing wound… and it wasn’t healing properly. Or at all. The wet edges glistened in the light with each breath he took. Breaths he shouldn’t have been able to take — not with a gash in his throat from ear to ear.
Ethan straightened up and ran his hand over his close-cropped hair with a sigh. His gaze didn’t leave his patient, expression frustrated. “If he was a shifter, I’d say no.”
“No?” Her heart dropped at his words. Johnson Black would die, all because he’d tried to save her. She looked up at the tall medic, confusion rolling through her. “Wait…what did you just say?”
He cut a glance sideways at her. “If he was a shifter, he’d already be dead. Even with our rate of healing, a wound like that is just too grievous.”
Her mouth fell open as his words sank in, and then she shut it with a click. “Let me get this right. You’re telling me he’s not a shifter?”
Ethan nodded slowly, holding her gaze. He was a werewolf. His scent wrapped around her, irritating her cat, which responded with a low growl, but she told the creature firmly to behave. He was no threat to them. A veteran, he was also a trained medic who had experience dealing with shifters. So he knew what he was talking about. If he said Johnson wasn’t a shifter, he wasn’t a shifter.
“But… He was… How did he…?” She shook her head, shutting her mouth as she tried to work through all the questions rolling through her head.
Only shifters could fight in the league. It was one of the rules… in fact, one of the main rules they had. Only shifters were hardy enough for the punishing fights staged every weekend. Even other paranormals would be badly injured or even killed outright in some of the bouts.
Johnson had been fighting in the league for months. If he wasn’t a shifter, how had he passed the tests to get in? Why had no one realized until now that he wasn’t actually a shifter? How the hell could a non-shifter have even managed the training and fights he had?
Crap, he was one of the fighters from her own club, the Scarlet Moon , which meant this was on her and her brother, Kylan. Letting non-shifters fight would normally mean that a manager lost their club, no questions asked.
Her cat chuffed in amusement as her hand drifted down to smooth over her still flat
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