Lynn Lorenz - WereWolf Fight League 1 - Tor, ☂ UPLOADED (Unsorted) ☂, ★ ♂♂ Romance, [G]ay 1
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TOR
WereWolf Fight League
Lynn Lorenz
www.loose-id.com
WereWolf Fight League: Tor
Copyright © April 2012 by Lynn Lorenz
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eISBN 978-1-61118-811-0
Editor: Antonia Pearce
Cover Artist: Mina Carter
Printed in the United States of America
Published by
Loose Id LLC
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www.loose-id.com
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical
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Chapter One
“Tor! Tor! Tor! Tor!”
The chanting of the crowd surrounding the cage hampered Tor’s ability to hear.
Behind him, his mate, Jin, hung back in the corner, his delicate hands gripping the steel
chain links of the cage as he watched. In front of Tor, Cosack, the big bald Russian,
paced back and forth, beating his chest. Spittle flew from his mouth as he cursed and
raved at Tor, goading him before the bell rang to signal the final round.
Cosack’s owner called him to the side of the cage, and he went, still glaring at Tor
over his shoulder, the outline of a black baying wolf tattooed there. His owner wiped
the blood from Cosack’s arm and checked the healed wound, then spoke to the
werewolf in a tone too low for Tor to hear above the roar of the crowd.
Marrack, Tor’s owner, stood silent at the side of the cage, knowing better than to
try to tell Tor how to fight, but the look in his eyes and the thin line of his mouth told
Tor that his confidence in ending this fight with a win wavered.
Tor glanced up at the scoreboard at the rear of the arena. He was ahead in points,
and all he needed were a few good hits, or to pin Cosack, and he’d win. A clock
counted down the seconds before the bell starting the round would ring.
Both werewolves wore blood from the fight, but his challenger had grown more
and more out of control with each round. As the mating urge compelled him to attack
Tor, the challenger’s ice-blue gaze kept straying to Jin. Cosack’s attempts to weaken Tor
enough to claim Tor’s mate as his own wore Tor down, but so far he’d handled them.
The crowd cheered when the bell rang. Cosack roared and punched his owner in
the face, knocking the man off the cage and into the first row of seats.
Lynn Lorenz
2
In all his years in the fighting cage, Tor had never seen an insane werewolf before,
but that was what he looked at now. For the first time since this fight had started, fear
skittered along Tor’s spine. If Cosack dared to attack his owner, he was capable of
anything, and that made him even more dangerous.
Tor would never let that crazed bastard touch Jin. He’d die first.
“Tor, watch him.” Jin’s hiss of warning reached Tor’s ears, and he nodded. “He’s
going to shift.” Jin, Tor’s partner in the cage, had never failed to know just when a
competitor would change to his wolf form.
Tor shifted first.
Cosack didn’t.
The big Russian charged him, and Tor leaped to the side, his teeth snapping at
Cosack as he passed him. A flash of metal caught Tor’s eye, and his wolf brain
registered it as foreign. No weapons were allowed in the cages. Only claws, teeth,
fighting skills, and wits.
Where did that—
His body spasmed as Cosack drove the thin blade deep into Tor’s side. Blinding
pain exploded as his chest collapsed, his lung punctured, his ability to breathe stolen
from him in an illegal move.
Tor slammed onto the floor, his body sliding, skidding into the center of the cage.
Struggling to get to his feet, he crawled around, using his hind legs to push as one
foreleg dangled useless and the other scrabbled on the cement floor. His claws
shredded as bloody foam bubbled from his mouth.
Cosack roared and advanced on Jin.
Tor’s bark came out merely a whine, too pitiful, too stretched to be heard above
the crowd’s roar. Around him, cries flew up like black crows rising a hundred feet over
the floor of the arena to the steel rafters holding the cameras televising the fights.
Spectators rattled their chairs, and the place, every seat taken, exploded in a thousand
voices. All yelling. All chanting. All screaming.
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