His Darkest Hunger (Jaguar Warriors 1)

Jaxon’s animal answered in kind, and he felt his bones elongate and pop as his skin burned away, leaving shiny black fur in its wake. He snarled savagely and twisted his great body as his clothes fell in tatters to his feet.

The wounded jaguar lunged toward him, and the two great beasts rolled end over end, with Jaxon landing hard against a sharp boulder that edged the side of the stream. The smell of blood was heavy in his nostrils, and the rage that overcame him pushed his jaguar forward, his huge paws swiping at the enemy and knocking him off of his body.

Jaxon twisted away and leapt up, meeting the other jaguar in midair, and when he landed on top of him, his jaw clamped down hard on the jugular, his great canines piercing through the soft skin that lay there. He tasted the blood and life essence now seeping uncontrollably from his enemy’s neck, and with a mighty roar he struck, his powerful jaw crushing the skull of the great cat and killing him instantly.

His mind felt muddied, awash with the thick haze and adrenaline rush of the kill, and he barked his victory, snarling as he jumped from the lifeless body of his enemy.

He had no time to process his kill, as his body warned him of an attack. He turned, but not in time, as the second jaguar pounced on him from behind. This animal was heavier and fully engaged in the heat of battle. Jaxon pushed his body to the edge as he tried to shake the heavy beast from his back, knowing that the animal’s powerful jaw could kill him as easily as he’d just done to its brethren.

He managed to unseat the cat, and had just gained his own feet when a blast of energy rocked the jaguar back several feet, followed by the snap of a gunshot. The animal took another step, then fell into a heap of fur, blood, and flesh as his feet.

Jaxon stood, sides quivering from battle, and glanced back at Declan. He had managed to climb from the water and take out the remaining warrior. They looked at each other in silence, and he followed Declan over to the bodies of the first two warriors they’d killed.

He watched as the sorcerer crouched down, studying the fallen enemy. Slowly, Jaxon began to shift back into his human form, feeling alarmed by Declan’s gray complexion as his friend turned back to him.

“Declan? What is it?”

“I don’t fucking believe it.”

Jaxon wiped the remnants of blood from his hands, not liking his tone, or Declan’s tense body language. His friend looked ill, and his concern grew as Declan struggled to speak.

“I just…I thought he was—” Declan inhaled sharply and closed his eyes.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Declan shook his head, and met Jaxon’s eyes with a bleakness he wasn’t used to seeing. “My father…this is my father. The dead warriors have his mark on their flesh.”

“Mark? What kind of mark? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“When a sorcerer binds someone to them, in any way, they leave a mark. It’s a symbol of their ownership.” Declan’s voice was subdued as he continued. “These men have my father’s mark on their necks.” He pointed to a small crescent-shaped tattoo on the dead warrior’s necks.

“But your father is dead, killed years ago. Wasn’t he?”

Declan turned from Jaxon, his voice still full of shock, “Apparently not.”

Jaxon’s steel resolve wavered.

Shit.

That couldn’t be good.

He remained silent, watching the myriad emotions affecting Declan.

Energy crackled and sparks flew from his fingers as Declan’s face darkened with the realization that his father, whom he’d thought long gone, was somehow involved in all of this craziness. His mouth thinned into a hard line of disgust and he shook his head, clearly not understanding any of it.

“I don’t know what to say, Jax.”

Declan swore under his breath, and flexed his hands as his anger continued to generate small currents of electricity that hummed and flew about the large cavern.

Jaxon glanced back at the dead bodies and a sense of urgency rippled through him. He quickly crossed over to where his clothes lay in a pile and tossed the completely ruined shirt aside. His pants had fared slightly better, and he grimly pulled them over his long legs before grabbing his boots.

He turned to Declan. “Okay, we need to find Libby. Are you okay with this?”

Declan’s eyes met his, and Jaxon clenched his jaw as his old friend paused and then whispered hoarsely, “Let’s do this.”

He started to move away, then paused. “I deal with my father. Got it?”

Jaxon didn’t bother answering, just grabbed his weapons and moved deeper into the large cavern. He closed his eyes and concentrated on isolating Libby’s scent. It was there, but elusive.