To the Werewolf Fight League, Tor is a champion fighter. To his master, he’s nothing more than a slave. When Tor’s mate Jin is killed in a brutal cage fight, Tor never wants to fight again. His master, Marrack has other plans for him.
Sky is a beautiful young sex slave, trained to perform sex on whoever buys him. But Sky is special; he’s a virgin and the man who owns him will be very lucky to be the first.
When Marrack buys Sky for Tor, his plan to get Tor back in the cage is set in motion. How could the big were resist mating the beautiful boy? Marrack has one month to get Tor back into shape and fighting again. Everything is riding on this --Tor’s reputation, Sky’s freedom, and Marrack’s money.
Will Tor find love again with a slave boy, or will Tor be betrayed by his new mate?
This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: BDSM them and elements, exhibitionism, master/slave, violence (including rape).
Readers with a history of rape or sexual abuse may find elements of this story disturbing.
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Tor snorted and woke. He’d fallen asleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, then scratched his balls. Across the room the boy stood in slave position.
“Fuck, are you still here?” He got up and strode over to the slave Marrack had left for him. He’d forgotten all about the boy.
“Yes, sir,” the boy whispered.
Tor looked him up and down. The top of his head came to the middle of Tor’s chest. His pale skin was smooth, not a welt or scar on him other than the small slave tattoo on his right chest, above a perfect copper nipple. The scent of perfumed oil someone had rubbed into the boy’s skin filled the air. This boy had been pampered. This boy was special. Tor knew it as well as he knew his fighting stats.
“What’s your name, boy?”
“Sky.” He kept his gaze on the floor.
“Look at me, Sky.” Tor didn’t have patience with this. He didn’t want a new boy. He didn’t need one.
Sky raised his head and looked up and up and up into Tor’s face.
Crystal blue eyes, the exact color of the sky in the picture books and surrounded by thick black lashes rimmed in smoky kohl, met his gaze, sucking the breath from Tor’s lungs. Pouting pink lips. A perfect nose.High cheekbones.
He was beautiful. Simply beautiful. How much had Marrack paid for him? A small fortune, Tor bet. The last of his owner’s money had probably gone to buy this boy for him.
Tor walked around him. A round ass sat high on well-formed thighs, and those sweet little pads of flesh dimples on either side of his hips begged to be touched. His cockhead, a rosy pink, peeked from his sheath, and his balls were hairless. He’d had all the hair on his body, except for his head, removed also. Someone had spent a lot of money on this boy.
And now he’s yours.
Oh hell, no. Not mine. He belongs to Marrack, not to me.
Until Tor claimed him, that is. Marrack would still own the boy, but he’d belong to Tor. He’d be Tor’s responsibility to feed, to train, to protect in the cage.
Tor heard the barest tinkling as a shiver ran through the boy. Had he been standing all this time? Fuck.
Tor sighed. “Sit down, boy.” He waved to the couch.
Sky looked at him, nodded, then went to the couch and sat on the edge of the seat, knees together, feet crossed at the ankles, back straight, as if afraid to fully occupy it.
“Look, I don’t want a new boy. Get it?”
“Marrack needs to take you back to the slave market and get his money back.”
Sky stared at him, then lowered his gaze to his hands clasped in his lap. One thumb picked at another. When he looked up, tears stood in his eyes.
Fuck. Not fucking tears.
Tor growled and rubbed his face. “Look, it’s not that I don’t like you. I’m sure you’re a great sex slave. Really.” How the hell did he explain this? How did he tell Sky about Jin? About how he wasn’t ready to move on? Not yet and maybe never?
“I lost my mate six months ago.” There, enough said.
“I’m sorry.” The boy’s face morphed from still and somber to...caring and sad.
Tor shrugged. Okay, the kid was sweet. And beautiful. But so were a lot of boys. That didn’t mean Tor was ready for a new mate. And being the mate of a werewolf took someone special. Everyone knew that.
“Have you ever seen a werewolf fight?” Tor asked.
Sky shook his head.
“Do you know the rules?” Tor crossed his arms.
“There are no rules. Two weres, a challenger and a defender, are locked in a cage to fight for possession of the defender’s mate,” Sky said.
“Well, no weapons, of course,” Sky added, looking pleased he’d gotten the answer.
Tor nodded. “And what happens if the defending were loses?” Tor asked.
Sky looked away. “The mate is taken by the winner,” he whispered.
“In the cage. Right then. In front of the crowd and on the televised shows,” Tor finished explaining, not glossing over the brutality of it.
“I don’t know what Marrack told you. But just so you know, I lost my last fight. The challenger took my mate and killed him.”
Sky’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard, and his mouth formed a perfect O.
Tor smirked. “Still want to be my mate?” He’d see if the boy had what it took to stand in the cage as a werewolf’s mate.
The boy chewed his lip for a moment, then said, “I don’t want to be sold again.”
Okay, at least the kid knew the score. But it didn’t mean he was special. That he could be of any use in the cage. That he could satisfy Tor’s needs.
That Tor would ever love him.
Copyright © Lynn Lorenz