Destined (Darkin World Book 2)

Chapter Four

Wolfrick dodged a claw to the face. Romeo wasn't as tall or muscular as he, but the man was fast. The sun was peeking over the three-tiered stands. This showdown for shifter king would be decided well before noon.

Their group was about fifty miles northeast of Reykjavik, Iceland. They were in a makeshift, outdoor arena. It'd once been part of the Icelandic pack's properties. That pack was no more.

"You're still quick," Vasiliev taunted through a partially formed muzzle. "For an old man," he finished as he backed away. The man's words were perfectly enunciated, even though his voice was lower and more gravelly than usual. His supporters laughed from the wooden stands, but Wolf's packs remained confidently silent.

Romeo's beast was a Siberian tiger. It outweighed Wolfrick's by nearly two hundred pounds. In their half-forms, they were roughly equivalent in size and weight. Were they to decide this the old-fashioned way - fully shifted - Wolf would have worried about being outclassed. Partially turned, however, he and Romeo were evenly matched.

Their half-forms meant Wolfrick and the Russian were a good six inches taller than their human selves. Wickedly sharp claws served as weapons on both hands and feet. The fur of their animals covered their bodies, but patches of skin still peeked through. Long, sharp teeth protruded from partially formed and extended muzzles. They weren't pretty or majestic, but they were deadly.

Shifters were physically stronger than any other race, including vampires. Their kind stayed alive because of their brute strength and numbers; they had many enemies. Vampires looked at them as a favored prey. Their blood was like ambrosia to the demon spawn. Witches were the race who'd initially cursed them. For millennia, were they ever to meet, only one would walk away from the encounter. The shaman, from whom they'd sprung, viewed them as embarrassing half-breeds. Although they weren't aggressive when met with a shifter, they weren't friendly either. Wolf's people had to develop techniques in which to survive the paranormal world. They'd done an excellent job of adapting and overcoming the obstacles the curse had thrown their way.

Their numbers changed after the war. Something unforeseen happened to them. Whether it was another curse or a simple breakdown of genetics, none could say. But their kind was drastically diminished. Shifter numbers were now anemic due to low pregnancy and birth rates. Because of this, Firsts and their alphas realized they needed to unite to survive as a race. No longer could they thrive as fractured parts of a whole.

There were few areas as large as Wolf's or Romeo's. Many packs had been eliminated as the war raged. Only twenty-four regions with hundreds of packs - some consisting of but a handful of members - currently remained worldwide. That amount had once been more than triple. As a result, the borders and territories of larger surviving packs expanded, threatening smaller ones. Disputes arose.

With no one to protect them, the smaller packs with weaker Firsts and alphas were given a choice – by those like Vasiliev – merge or die. Some bared their necks and compromised. Others allied with stronger Firsts, such as Wolfrick. In the end, before all-out war within their race could be declared, a council was held in their homeland of Romania. The representatives voted to have a king, a First of Firsts. There were a handful of names put forward. Those who wanted the position had to fight for it to prove their strength. The leaders who weren't chosen joined with their favorites. Now, eight months later, here Wolfrick and Romeo were.

The fight might not be to the death, but Vasiliev continually flouted their rules. Wolf knew this one's personality. Romeo felt he was above them, supreme of all Firsts and alphas, even though he hadn't yet been named king. There were three recent cases where those who'd opposed Romeo wound up dead. There was a rock climbing accident, a mugging gone wrong and then an airship crash that killed all twenty-three souls on board. Everyone knew who the actual murderer was, even if they couldn't prove it was Vasiliev.