Tropical Lion's Legacy (Shifting Sands Resort 9)

She wouldn’t blame him for extracting justice.

But Graham didn’t want to.

Of all the people he hated, as much as he desired revenge, here he was with every opportunity to give Cyrus back some small portion of the pain he’d lived with for ten years... and all he wanted was to be done with it.

He had wanted to step into the cage and fight a doomed battle at a disadvantage more than he wanted to inflict pain on this hateful, beaten man.

“No,” Graham growled. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He frogmarched the man to the dark cage where the Irish elk and the bears had herded most of the guards and fighters who hadn’t fled with the audience to the docks below. Some of them were staggering in a daze that Graham recognized as Gizelle’s handiwork, and he wasn’t surprised to see her tiny gazelle shape darting at Conall’s heels.

Graham thrust Cyrus into the cage, not exactly gently, but not with the force that he could have. Someone had dragged in the guard he had knocked unconscious.

“You’re not worth it,” he said disdainfully as Cyrus stumbled into one of his unamused guards.

In the silence following the destruction of the generators, they could hear the distant sound of the boats starting to pull away from the docks below.

Neal, naked and grinning wolfishly, had an armful of chains and locks gathered from equipment boxes around the makeshift arena. “Is this all of them?” he asked.

Graham shrugged.

Tony, in tiger form, came circling around from the back of the cage and shifted back to human. “I checked the perimeter and didn’t see any stragglers. These are the only ones that weren’t smart enough to run for the boats.”

Neal set to work securing the cage.

Bastian was back in human form, and he was supporting a very wobbly-looking Saina. “What did you do to them?” he asked anxiously. “Are you alright?”

She had a shallow scratch on her forehead; Bastian frowned and reached for his first aid kit.

“I made them feel guilty,” Saina said, with a certain amount of tired satisfaction, letting him fuss over her as she sank to a seat on a fallen speaker. “I reminded them that they were part of something terrible and made them feel bad about it. It probably won’t last long—that’s a lot more people than I usually try something so complicated with. I doubt it will last long enough for any of them to turn themselves in or rat out the ring; they’ll likely forget about the whole thing by the time they get to the mainland.”

She hissed as Bastian cleaned her cut.

“Are you hurt?” Graham asked Alice. There was an alarming amount of blood on her face, but it didn’t appear to be flowing.

“Nah,” Alice said dismissively. “I got a bloody nose and I might chew on the left side until I can shift again and heal up, but nothing that needs stitches.” She gave him a suspicious look. “I’m more worried about you,” she said softly, for his ears only. “They...”

“I’m fine,” Graham said briefly. “Broken rib, maybe.” He drew in a deep breath. Definitely a broken rib.

Alice made a little noise of anger and helplessness. “You should have Bastian bind that up.”

“Darla’s hurt,” Breck said, coming out of the darkness with his arm around his mate, saving Graham having to argue about his rib.

“No more hurt than you are,” Darla protested. “He got tagged with one of the darts and neither of us can shift now.”

They had matching injuries, long slices on their arms. The runes circling their left wrists were gleaming slightly, reflecting the moonlight. Graham suspected that neither of them would have sought medical help for themselves, but Bastian solemnly cleaned the wounds for each of them and declared that they would probably heal with a shift or two once the drug wore off.

“Told you to stay back,” Wrench said, frowning and folding his arms. If he’d taken any injury, it wasn’t obvious on his scar- and tattoo- marked body.

Gizelle bounded into the space and shifted from gazelle to human in one swift leap. “I helped!” she declared cheerfully.

Conall, who had tossed a number of opponents easily aside in his Irish elk shape, gathered her into his arms. “I told you to stay back, too.”

Alice gave Graham a sideways look. “You going to tell me that I should have stayed back, too?” she asked for his ears only.

Graham snorted, and his side protested keenly. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said gruffly.

“Let’s see that rib,” Bastian said to him without leaving room for argument once he had finished with Darla and Breck. Dragon ears must be as keen as a lion’s.

“Great outfit,” Breck observed as Graham reluctantly took off the purple satin robe. “Gold lamé suits you! You should add more to your wardrobe, m’lord.”