Mated to the Warrior Beast
Chapter 257 257: NEXT GEN: On the Hunt

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The top tier privilege readers in March 2023, as well as those of you in my Facebook group (July 2023) have already read the next six chapters as an extra. So you can skip them!

(Message added after publication so you aren't charged for the words)

*****

~ ZANE ~

Lights flashed overhead reflecting off the mirrors behind the liquor shelves. The music—heavier here than the other clubs, which suited me—was so loud it vibrated in my chest in a way that made me want to snarl for the invasion. But I didn't give it voice. I was hunting. It needed stillness.

And patience.

I'd been watching a pretty little brunette for the past twenty minutes, willing her to feel my eyes on her back as she danced with some drunk asshole. She had noticed, of course, even her dull instincts trigged by the intensity of my scrutiny. I looked away when she turned to search for me.

Come to me. Come explore, pretty. Find out what's calling you.

I had to stifle a smile when she said something to the drunk douche and walked off the dance floor to lean on the bar just a few feet away, calling her order to the bartender over the noise of the music. As soon as he nodded she turned her head to catch my eye, then looked away, but I could see the way her cheeks pulled up as she turned from me.

I smiled the smile of a predator, the one that never failed to catch a human female, and waited.

I had a moment then, a clash in my head between the worlds I walked, tripping back and forth like a child dancing over a creek. It hit me every now and then, the staggering disparity between my hunter's instincts and skills, honed in the forests of Anima, and this cold, stinking human world.

But the truth was, even though my two worlds looked nothing alike, the God-given abilities that let me prowl the night-dark forest for food were stunningly transferable to a midnight club in a human city.

The only difference was what prey I devoured at the end of the night…

I gave a little huff of laughter at my own joke, imagining how my mother would screw up her nose if I'd said it out loud. She hated it when I was "crass."

What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

My attention was drawn back to the brunette who'd turned around to lean backwards with her elbows on the bar which was a little high for her. The posture arched her back so her breasts were pressed up, almost falling out of the bottom of the little crop-top she'd worn for the hot night club, and revealing the inviting rounded plane of her stomach, which got my blood pumping.

I didn't like the skinny ones. I wanted a woman I could sink my teeth into.

I didn't look up from the tumbler of my drink. To anyone else nearby I'd appear completely indifferent. But she and I knew differently. And this was where the game got interesting.

As I threw back the last of my drink and clunked it back down on the bar, I caught the eye of the bartender at the opposite end, who nodded. Then I waited.

Patience, patience.

She'd expect me to approach now, to ask her what she was drinking, to maybe criticize her earlier choice of a dance partner. She'd expect me to smile and use the music as an excuse to lean into her ear.

She wouldn't expect me to ignore her after that smile.

Which was exactly why I did it.

Come to me, pretty. Come find out why your skin is prickling.

I leaned one arm on the bar and turned to survey the dance floor. My body was thrumming tonight. It had been a frustrating day and this was my release. If the scent wafting off this woman was any indication, she'd be happy to find a dark corner here at the bar. Which was good. Because I might need more than one—

All the lights began to flash on and off so fast that even my eyes couldn't adjust fast enough, leaving me with flashes, still images of the crowd on the dance floor, arms raised, chins low, bodies writhing—all frozen in a blink of time. And one body in particular—a woman with her back to me. Light hair, the color impossible to discern in the strange lighting.

She was taller than I usually found attractive, but something about her drew my hunter's eye.

Flash. Her head was forward, arms above her head, wrists soft, fingers falling in graceful arcs, shoulder blades shadowed because her muscular back was left completely bare by a halter-neck top that hung open to her low-slung jeans, baring those little divots at the base of her spine.

My heart began to pound.

Flash. She'd turned, arm extended and chin down. I would have seen her profile if her long hair hadn't been thrown out in a gorgeous arc like the feathers of Kyelle's wings when she flew. Which was exactly what she reminded me of: A bird of prey on the wing.

My breath stopped.

Flash. She'd dropped both arms back behind her, their long, elegant sway somehow framing the serpentine of her spine as she moved, the curve of her waist pinching to lines on the side where she raised a hip.

Her hair had swept forward over her shoulder, still hiding her profile, except for a set of full lips, her teeth catching the lower one as if she stopped herself from speaking… or maybe crying out.

My groin tightened.

I pushed away from the bar and was prowling toward her before I'd even thought, barely breathing. The lights came back on, the blazing stage lights casting a glow over the crowd, lasers shooting arrows of color, just before I reached her.

There was a strange pulse in my chest, deeper than thought, the thrust of… possessiveness. But there was no time to analyze it as a thick, masculine hand appeared at her waist and I realized there was a human fuckwit dancing with her.

Rage, pure and white-hot, coursed through my veins. I stifled a growl as I strode up to her, eyes fixed on the dude griding up against her, smiling down at her… but the predator in those eyes wasn't there to play.