Fangs and Fists, page 1
Fangs and Fists
A Pandemonium Urban Fantasy Romance
Kate Hill
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Kate Hill
BIN: 010681-03472
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
315 N. Centre St.
Martinsburg, WV 25404
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Sheri Ross Fogarty
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Adult Sexual Content
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Table of Contents
Fangs and Fists
Bolt (Fangs and Fists 1)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Grit (Fangs and Fists 2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Victor (Fangs and Fists 3)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Haylen (Fangs and Fists 4)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Kate Hill
Fangs and Fists
A Pandemonium Urban Fantasy Romance
Kate Hill
In a futuristic world ruled by demons, werewolf gladiators are enslaved to fight for the amusement of their evil masters.
Bolt (Fangs and Fists 1): Bolt and Kiara have loved each other from the moment they met, but Kiara was mated to Bolt’s best friend. When Grit is killed in the arena, they surrender to their desire. Will their love be strong enough to help them win freedom from their evil masters?
Grit (Fangs and Fists 2): Grit died in the arena, only to be resurrected by a demon. He lives a shadowy existence as one of the soulless, remembering only bits and pieces of his former life. Long ago, vampire warrior Zari helped Grit escape. Now they’re free to explore their feelings as they fight the demons. Whatever the outcome, Zari and Grit intend to face it together.
Victor (Fangs and Fists 3): Jolanda’s a member of a secret pack of wolf witches who want to free their kin from the demon tower. Victor is the Alpha she needs to help her. Together they plan an escape from the tower, hoping to strike a blow the demon masters will never forget.
Haylen (Fangs and Fists 4): Faith healer turned resurrection demon, Haylen served the masters for centuries, creating legions of the soulless. Maddy, a mechanic with magical powers, has studied Haylen’s history and finds the demon fascinating. But she’s even more intrigued by the man he can become. In a world where good and evil are constantly at war, can the good witch save the demon’s soul?
Bolt (Fangs and Fists 1)
Kate Hill
In a futuristic world ruled by demons, werewolves are enslaved to fight in gladiatorial matches for the amusement of their evil masters.
Kiara remembers what life was like living free -- before she was taken by demons and bred to gladiators so that the new generations of wolves would retain their ferocity but forget their freedom. Mated to top gladiator Grit, she has a son with this surprisingly gentle lover who is also planning their escape. When Grit is killed in the arena, his close friend Bolt upholds his promise to protect Kiara and the cub.
Bolt and Kiara have loved each other from the moment they met, but they buried their feelings because she was mated to his best friend. When Grit dies, despite their guilt, Bolt and Kiara surrender to their desire for each other. Will their love be strong enough to help them win freedom from their evil masters?
Chapter One
Promises
Grit wanted to close his eyes to better enjoy the pleasure rolling through him, but he couldn’t resist gazing down at his beautiful mate. Kiara’s eyes were closed, her thick lashes flicking against her smooth, olive skin. Her full, kissable lips parted and she moaned softly, arching her neck. He nuzzled it and trailed his tongue down its length and over the tops of her generous breasts. He licked a stiff, dusky nipple, and then he sucked it.
“Oh, Grit,” she murmured, her strong fingers biting into his shoulders in a way that aroused him even more. His stiff cock brushed against her smooth leg and he reached down to caress her soft mound.
He loved the springy feel of the hair on her nether regions in contrast to the soft, smooth flesh of her inner thighs. His fingers played around her slick pussy lips. She was already soaked and he longed to thrust into her, but Grit was a gentle lover despite his rough name. Harshness was meant for the arena, not the bedroom.
Kiara was a fine woman. Unlike many who were bound to this damn tower, she didn’t think of herself only. She still cared about others -- about Grit. That was a rare thing these days. Most of the wretched creatures here cared only about their own survival, not that Grit blamed them. Moments of peace, let alone pleasure, were few and far between here.
Beneath him, Kiara moaned again and thrust against his hand. He eased first one and then two fingers into her snug, drenched pussy. He explored for a moment before slowly withdrawing his fingers to caress her stiff little nub, which made her squirm and pant.
“Kiara,” he said, his voice subtly commanding.
She apparently noticed and her large, dark eyes opened, staring into his. A smile tugged at Grit’s lips. Kiara was a passionate woman. There was nothing subservient about her. Her alpha instincts aroused him. He doubted the masters realized what they’d done when they’d given her to him. Grit couldn’t have chosen a better mate.
It the back of his mind, he knew that if they hadn’t been forced together, she might not have chosen him. Still, she seemed to enjoy their time together and he believed she had grown to care about him. That was more than could be expected in the tower.
While he stroked her, Kiara squeezed his bottom. Then she slid a hand between their bodies to curl her fist around his cock. She caressed him, the motions creating friction between his foreskin and cock head. It was almost too good. He swelled even more and she wickedly slid a finger under the soft skin to directly stroke where he was most sensitive.
“You’re merciless,” he said breathlessly, a teasing edge to his voice.
Kiara chuckled softly and gasped as he flicked his thumb over her clit, teasing her as she teased him. He then rubbed the sensitive nub slowly, gently.
She purred, sounding almost feline rather than wolfish, though he knew she was as much a wolf as he. Kiara was quite magnificent in her wolf form -- all long, graceful limbs and thick, black fur.
One day in the near future, if his plans went well, he would run with his beautiful wolf mate in the forest where they belonged. Their kind weren’t meant to live as slaves in a hellish tower.
“Grit, please,” she said in an aching voice. Her legs trembled and he could hear her heart pounding, matching his own frantic heartbeat. He wanted her so much that he couldn’t wait a moment longer and she obviously felt the same way.
“Kiara, my beautiful mate,” he said in a husky whisper. He trailed his tongue up her torso, between her breasts, caressing them on the way. Then he braced a hand on either side of her head. He didn’t need to nudge her legs apart. She’d already spread them, welcoming him.
Grit thrust into her slowly, enjoying every sensation as her soft, wet flesh enfolded him. He remained still for a moment, his forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling. At times like this, buried to the hilt in her luscious body, he almost forgot they were slaves.
He thrust, driving their pleasure, something that even the dreaded masters couldn’t take from them.
“Yes, oh, yes!” She panted. “Don’t stop, Grit, please don’t stop.”
“I have no intention of it,” he said against her lips. He kissed her, his tongue thrusting against hers in time with his pumping hips.
Kiara cried out into his mouth as she came, her hot flesh pulsing around him.
Grit longed for climax, but he also wanted to prolong their pleasure. He wasn’t allowed nearly enough time with her and he refused to was te a moment.
He hovered over her, as still as possible, except for his pounding heart. The pulsations in her pussy slowed and he regained a semblance of self-control before he started thrusting again.
She moaned again and her relaxed limbs tightened around him as her excitement rekindled. Her warm body with its soft skin and toned muscles writhed beneath him. She locked her strong legs around his waist and pulled herself higher as he thrust into her.
He growled softly and nuzzled her shoulder. He licked her neck and kissed her temple. One hand still supporting his weight, he used the other to stroke her from breast to hip and then back to her breast. He cupped its soft roundness and kneaded gently.
Grit loved her scent -- clean flesh and a wild musk that belonged to her alone.
His mate.
Growling again, Grit thrust faster.
“Oh, yes, Grit. Harder!”
She didn’t have to beg. Obedience wasn’t in his nature, except here with her. Few things pleased him more than knowing he brought her the same delight she gave him.
Her orgasm almost took him by surprise. She gasped and clung to him. Her pussy clenching around his almost painful erection pushed him over the edge.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Grit howled and came, filling her, draining his cock and emptying the tangle of emotions that always threatened to choke him. Only with Kiara could he release everything -- his rage and shame at being caught and forced into the tower, his desperate need to escape and take her with him.
Finally he relaxed and lay half draped over her. For several moments they remained still. Sometimes words weren’t necessary.
From the adjoining room, a cub babbled.
Kiara started to rise, but Grit placed a hand on her hip.
“I’ll get him,” he said.
Grit was allowed so little time with his mate and cub. The masters cared nothing about whether gladiators bonded with their mates and offspring. All that mattered was that they procreate. They bred the fiercest males to the healthiest females, hoping to keep the wolves’ ferocity while eliminating their love of freedom. The cubs born in captivity would never know how it felt to run across open fields, to smell the forest and bathe in a river by moonlight.
It pained Grit that if the masters had their way, his cubs would never experience these things, nor would he be likely to bond with a mate whom he loved and who loved him in return.
A gladiator might take dozens of mates and feel nothing for them but the pleasure of the moment, unlike pack life in which wolves mated for life. Cubs had caring parents and extended family among the pack. Wolves had never been the savage creatures so many believed them to be -- at least not when they lived free.
Here, in the tower -- or rather beneath it -- life was different. Brutal. Cold.
Grit rose and washed his hands in a basin resting on a stand near the bed. Then he pulled on his loincloth and walked to the next room. His son -- nearly a year old, chubby and still with his baby baldness -- stared up at him with dark, innocent eyes. His mother’s eyes.
Grit picked him up. Smiling, the boy reached for Grit’s bearded face. Gently, Grit took the little hand and kissed his son’s soft cheek.
No. He didn’t want his son to live the life he now endured as a gladiator, nor did he want Kiara to one day be ripped from him and given to another wolf -- one who might not treat her with the respect she deserved.
“He looks more like you every day,” Kiara said from where she lingered in the doorway, her lush curves now covered by her plain muslin slave dress.
“He has your eyes.”
She smiled slightly and stepped toward them to caress the child’s face. Grit placed an arm around her. Glancing from his wife back to his son, he felt deep affection and protectiveness. It offended his very nature to exist like this -- seeing her only when the masters allowed it and then because they hoped for them to produce another cub. They should have a home of their own, far away from here. Back in the woods. Safe. Happy. Free.
Grit had been talking to other gladiators. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to escape, and they had learned that wolves weren’t the only creatures unhappy in the tower.
“Be careful tomorrow night,” Kiara said.
Grit smiled. “You say that before every fight.”
“And I always mean it, but especially tomorrow.”
If Grit won tomorrow’s match, he would be allowed to retire from the arena to train other gladiators. If a gladiator won one hundred fights, he was given this privilege. The masters wanted only the best to train new gladiators for their entertainment. More important, Grit would be allowed to keep Kiara as his mate. She would be bred only to him. At least then he would know she would be safe, but that wouldn’t protect their young for long. They would only be allowed to keep their cubs until they were old enough to wean. After that, they would be taken to train either as gladiators or breeding stock.
“I won’t fail you, Kiara, and I won’t fail Jett.” He hugged his son a bit tighter. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, “We have plans to escape. We’re getting out of here. We’re going home.”
Kiara’s face tensed. “We need to be careful when we speak of such things. If the masters hear, they’ll kill us.”
“Better dead than here for the rest of our lives. You don’t agree?”
Kiara held his gaze. For a moment, the fear deserted her beautiful dark eyes, replaced by the wildness of a free wolf. “I do agree and I’m with you.”
“The next time we meet, I’ll have more to tell you about it. Until then --”
Someone tapped on the door. Grit knew by scent that it was his good friend Bolt.
Kiara went to let him in and Grit followed. She opened the door. Bolt stood outside. He was two inches taller than Grit’s six feet, but with a slighter build. He had thick, dark hair and fierce blue eyes. Like Kiara, he was twenty-nine, six years younger than Grit.
“Kiara,” Bolt said, nodding to her before fixing his gaze on Grit. “We need to go train.”
Grit reluctantly placed Jett in Kiara’s arms. Then he covered her mouth in a lingering kiss. “Tomorrow, after the fight, I’ll come to you.”
She smiled, but he could see the anxiousness in her eyes. “Make that a promise.”
“I promise,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her again.
When the kiss broke, her gaze shifted to Bolt, who was doing his best to avoid staring at them. It probably felt awkward, witnessing another couple’s affection, especially when he was attracted to Kiara. Grit didn’t miss the scent of Bolt’s lust, but to his credit he’d never acted on his desires. He knew that Kiara belonged to Grit. It wasn’t worth destroying their friendship to satisfy physical passion. Such integrity was a rare commodity in the tower.
Not that Grit didn’t sympathize with his friend. No doubt Bolt longed for a mate, even if just for pure sexual release. To Grit’s knowledge, it had been over a year since the younger wolf had bred and even then he hadn’t produced a cub. Bolt claimed that he preferred celibacy to being treated like livestock. Grit even agreed, but despite his principles, he was glad Kiara had been given to him. Unlike many in their position, they had grown to care about each other. Love was more than physical. It included friendship, understanding and loyalty.
“Goodbye,” she said.
“Until tomorrow,” Grit told her.
He left with Bolt and Kiara closed the door behind them.
“You must be on your guard tomorrow night,” Bolt warned, reminding him of Kiara.
“You and my mate sound almost like you don’t believe I’ll win.”
“I know you’re a great warrior. You’re better than Titus, but I don’t trust the masters.”
Titus, a wolf from another gladiatorial house, would be Grit’s opponent tomorrow. He was younger than Grit and larger, but not as experienced. If possible, Grit intended to spare his life. He had tried to satisfy the masters’ lust for watching werewolves attack each other, but he preferred not to kill. Sometimes it was impossible. Many wolves had been completely brainwashed by life in the barracks, becoming as evil as their demonic masters.
