The crowd begins to murmur quietly as I keep my ass planted on the splintered wood. My lips tip up in a tiny smirk as I watch Kaazu’s eyes flicker with anger.
“Jetta.”
One word, bolstered by the crack of his cane against the wooden stage. The only outward show that I’ve provoked him.
It’s nearly insignificant—my infinitesimal refusal to immediately bow to his will. But I take great satisfaction in it.
Then I stand up.
I give myself a single, slow blink. One breath in the darkness.
And then I open my eyes, and I'm ready to play the part. Not just the Betrayer, but of Master Kaazu’s perfect troupe member heading to her death.
With a fortified spine and indifferent eyes, I walk to the stage. I feel numb, out-of-body, like I’m watching myself from somewhere above.
My animal is shuddering, slinking back from Kaazu’s nearness and begging me to flee. I run a soothing stroke against our connected minds and tell her that it’s okay, to rest, that I’ll protect us. She burrows deep inside of me, safe, where he can’t reach her.
One, two, three steps up the stage and then I’m there beside Kaazu, under the blinding spotlight.
He runs a cold, assessing gaze over me and then slowly circles around me while the crowd watches. “Hmm. Overweight. Lazy limbs. Loss of muscles. No makeup. Ratty hair. Reeking of shifter scum,” he murmurs, the words only for us. “I look forward to molding you back into perfection, my Jetta.”
“I’m not yours,” I reply steadily as he stops in front of me.
Kaazu just grins and runs a finger down my cheek, like a lover’s caress. I want to rip his hand off. I have to fight myself not to cringe or react in any way.
“Oh, but you are,” he purrs. “Since you were a year old, you’ve been mine. I’ve made you who you are today, sculpted you into the perfect performer.” He leans in, his dark eyes holding mine. “I am your master, Jetta,” he says, bringing a hand up to my collar. “And it’s time you come to heel.”
My hands curl into fists.
Kaazu’s eyes track the movement, and he tsks. “Such bad habits you’ve picked up,” he says quietly. “Fear not. I shall enjoy meting out your discipline and remolding you.”
He takes a step back and faces the crowd once more. “Now that we have our volunteer, let’s get on with the main event, shall we?”
Rockhead stomps and claps in reply, just shadows in the darkness as my vision is obscured by the spotlight trained on me.
Kaazu gestures toward me, lifting his cane up like a pointer stick. “This female encroached on your territory,” he declares with a flourish. “And when she was approached by your fellow pack members and told she needed to meet with your alpha, what did she do?” he asks. “She went against shifter decree and attacked them instead!”
Boos and growls and hisses burst out of the bleachers in noisy discord. Rockhead’s collective anger puts a sharp scent in the air, and with just those few sentences, he’s riled them up so they’re now calling for my blood.
Kaazu always knows how to control an audience.
“The rules are very clear,” he states, turning to look at me. “You will stand there, on that square.”
I look down, noticing a silver-plated square in the very middle of the stage floor. It’s small, maybe two feet by two feet.
“You will face the troupe you abandoned, the troupe you forced your punishments on, and you will fight them,” he goes on. “The last person standing wins.”
More cheers from the crowd, more shouts for my blood that turn into hoarse, wordless garbles in my ears.
Fighting a dozen of my troupe members by myself is going to be hard. Extremely hard. But it’s not impossible.
So I know there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. Kaazu won’t run a show if it doesn’t have a pleasurable outcome for him.
He holds up a finger. “But there’s more.”
“There it is,” I mumble.
Kaazu’s unamused eyes hook onto me, and he points to the square, a clear instruction.
I swallow hard and walk over to it, counting my steps along the way just to give myself something to focus on other than my growing apprehension. The moment my feet step onto the metal, the corner sinks down.
Everywhere I step, my weight compresses it. Frowning, I stand in the very center, the only spot on the square that seems to keep it balanced.