Butterflies.
“To respect,” she repeated softly before she let the fiery amber liquid burn down her throat.
His eyes never left hers as he took a few healthy swigs from the flask. His eyes flashed from blue to dark brown before he turned and shucked his pants, his belt jingling with the movement. She was so shocked, she couldn’t look away. He tossed the flask on top of the pile of clothes in the dirt and strode for the second chute. Powerful legs, long stride, perfect muscular Wrangler butt. His back was a V-shape, and every muscle rippled with his movement. As he walked away, he said, “You can watch if you want, but Quickdraw’s right.” He tossed her a black-eyed look over his shoulder. “I’m an animal.”
Chills rippled up her forearms at the intensity of his expression. He’d changed demeanor in an instant. Waves of power rolled off him, making the air feel too thick to breathe.
She climbed the fence to better see him and settled onto the top rail to watch.
Quickdraw was pulling the gate on Dead again for another buck, but she barely registered that the titan was airborne, kicking up clouds of dust every time he slammed down his hooves. She couldn’t take her eyes off of chute number three, the closest one to her.
She could see Two Shots’ eyes as he tossed her a last look between the rails of the gate, and then he pitched forward. Before his hands hit the ground, a titan bull exploded from his skin. His changes were instantaneous. One second, the man she cared for had been standing there looking through the shadows of the chute at her, and the next? He was eighteen hundred pounds of pure muscle and raw power. The change blasted the chute gate open, and Two Shots went straight to bucking.
Time slowed to a crawl as she watched him sail upward, using his powerful back legs to push off. He tucked his glossy black front hooves slightly under his massive chest and twisted in the air. His horns were long and grey, filed down on the ends for rider safety, but ohhh, could they do damage still. His coat was mostly white, but speckled with tiny black spots and grit. His nose and ears were black like his eyes. She’d seen him in this form a hundred times, but this time was different. She felt more about him. There was a draw to the magnificent animal that she couldn’t explain. Couldn’t understand.
Mud and dirt flew everywhere as his front hooves hit the arena, and he tossed his head up as he pushed off of his front end for another buck.
Quickdraw was yelling something…something…what was he saying?
“Fence!”
She shook her head and dragged her gaze from the savage violence of Two Shots’ buck. “What?”
Quickdraw was sprinting toward her, his eyes wide. “Get off the fence!” he bellowed.
She saw him out of the corner of her vision when it was much too late. Dead was charging straight for her, and there was no time to react.
He slammed into the metal she was sitting on so hard, the sound of it moved right through her. Clang! She was hurled backward as the black and white bull went right through the barrier. She screamed and threw her arms over her face as she sailed toward a tree. She closed her eyes and prepared for pain, but the impact wasn’t want she’d imagined. Something plucked her right out of the air with such force the air whooshed from her lungs. She hit the ground but not hard enough to hurt, and when she looked up, there was a man standing over her. A man she knew.
“Wes, look out!” she screamed as Dead ran straight for him.
Wes Kaid crouched in front of her and snarled the sound of his inner animal, a wolf, but he didn’t change. He didn’t need to. Two Shots Down slammed into Dead of Winter like a grenade. Dead’s black and white bull was thrown sideways with a grunt. The power of that hit knocked her back into the tree.
Quickdraw was across the arena but sprinting toward the bull fight, yelling instructions to two men on horseback. “Don’t let them engage! They’ll never stop until one of them is dead!”
With a bellow, Dead turned just in time to catch Two Shots’ head slamming into his, and they both pushed, all locked up, muscles straining. A cloud of dust was swirling around them, growing thicker with the battle.
“Oh, my gosh,” she whispered in horror. She’d never seen bull shifters fight before. They’d always changed separately in the rodeos.
A rope went sailing through the air, but Two Shots ducked at the last possible second. The loop of the rope ricocheted off the end of his horn. Dead of Winter stumbled forward at the change in Two Shots’ position and bellowed a roar of fury as he turned his head and slammed his skull into Two Shots’ again.
Two riders, her friends Bryson Locke and Hunter Kaid, were circling the bulls, yelling. Loops of rope spun over their heads as they looked for any openings. Bryson threw at Dead’s feet and clipped both his hind legs, looped the rope around his saddle horn, and his big blue roan horse took off underneath him. Dead was dragged backward a couple steps, clumsily, but Hunter Kaid was able to get his rope around Two Shots’ head. Both riders struggled to pull the bulls apart. They were bigger than natural-born bulls—heavier with muscle and much more powerful. Hunter and Bryson rode big-boned horses, but they weren’t an even match for the bulls.
“That’s what you get for bringing bull shifters here,” a man said from behind her.
She gasped and turned. Samuel Kaid, the scariest of the Kaid brothers, was standing there leaned against a tree, watching the bulls.
“Aw, come on, Sam,” Wes said, standing. “We haven’t had fun like this in weeks.”
“I’m gonna go fight that guy over there.”
Cheyenne sat up straighter. “Wait, what?”
“I didn’t stutter,” Sam murmured as he passed by.
Like a psycho, she reached out and grabbed his leg as he passed. He dragged her a few steps through the dirt with no hitch in his step, as if he didn’t even feel her there. She wised up and let him go. Like her holding his leg would stop him. She was a fragile little human, and he was one of the toughest werewolves in existence. What had she even planned to do? Trip him? He would’ve eaten her.
Wes snorted from above her. “Yeah, tripping him would’ve worked.”
“I don’t want them to fight!” she yelled, scrambling to her feet.
“Woman, what you want to happen and what will actually happen rarely align. That’s life. You can fight it or enjoy the show.”
“No, no, no, no!” she yelled, bolting after Sam. “The show is tomorrow! Today is practice! Innocent, easy-peasy, non-stressful, non-lethal practice!”
Why was Quickdraw smiling and not running away from Scary Sam Kaid?
Sam blasted his fist against Quickdraw’s jaw, and though it rocked him, the behemoth man didn’t go down. “My turn,” he growled, and before she could register that he moved, Quickdraw cracked his fist against Sam’s face.
Sam was blasted backward but landed on his hands and feet, clawing through the dirt to stop himself. “Finally!” he said so loud, his voice echoed. “A good fight.”
“I’m offended,” Wes murmured. “I give him good fights all the time.”
“No you don’t,” Hunter called from where he was pulling Two Shots Down toward the arena on his bay horse. “You always lose to Sam. ’S boring.”
“Stop!” she screamed at the brawling men and the pissed-off bulls. “No injuries before the event tomorrow!”