Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Behind me, the shouts of the crowd were still loud.
“Bite his neck!”
“Break his claws!”
The Den was the only one of its kind in the States, an underground fighting arena for shifters. Night after night, huge crowds turned out to watch the fights. To make battles more exciting, special chemicals had been injected in the air. These chemicals had the power to neutralize the extraordinary senses of shifters. As a result, wolves no longer had the best sense of smell and bird shifters no longer had the best sense of hearing. Everyone was basically equal, and because of that only brute strength – and tactics – could win the battle.
My breasts ached more painfully with every minute that passed. Since I was the best in my previous fighting class, The Den had given me a dressing room. But that was still five intersections down, and I didn’t think I could make it that far. I had to do something before I went crazy and cut off my own breasts.
Turning right, I took a detour. In minutes I came to an empty intersection and nearly expired with joy at the sight of it. I hurried to the corner and took off my loose shirt and overalls. My choice of costume was strategic. Leatherface’s clothes were big enough to hide the fact that I was, well, a girl.
Under my costume, I wore a tank top and a skimpy pair of black nylon shorts. I pulled my top up and unwrapped the layers of cotton bindings around my chest. “Aaaah.” Tears actually formed in my eyes as my breast bounced free of its restraints.
Note to self: make an appointment with a doctor ASAP. I knew how to do things. Hot wiring a car was easy. Saving a choking stranger with the Heimlich maneuver was easy. But girly stuff like finding out if I had breast cancer? I could vaguely remember watching an infomercial that said I had to touch myself to find out if I had breast cancer. But the why or how of it? Not one clue.
The pain in my breasts reminded me of my unwanted task. With a grimace, I started groping my breasts. They were bigger than I was comfortable with, so there was a lot to grope. I really wanted to have them reduced. Panthers outside my pack tended to think just because I had big breasts, I was stupid. Worse, they also thought the bigger a woman’s breasts were, the smaller her brain was. I just couldn’t understand them. It wasn’t like breasts took up space inside my head.
The damp air inside the tunnels made my nipples pucker up. It was embarrassing, and I felt my cheeks heating up at the sight of it. I really wish I was born a man instead, I thought glumly as I continued touching my breasts.
The weight of my breasts in my own hands was also embarrassing. Maybe it was time to seriously consider breast reduction surgery. Maybe—-
“Do you need some help with that?”
With a gasp, I whirled around, shocked at the voice. I should have heard someone approaching, but I had let down my guard, being too busy worrying about breast cancer.
The intruder was a tall masked man clad entirely in black. He had dark hair and green eyes. I recognized him instantly.
He was The Masked Wolf.
He was The Den’s #1 fighter.
And I was his #1 fan, but he didn’t have to know that.
For a moment, I could only gape. The Masked Wolf. The Masked Wolf! THE MASKED WOLF!
Growing up, I had never been interested in boys. I had always thought of myself as one of them, only we had different body parts. But then I saw The Masked Wolf fight. And I totally fell in love. Just by looking at his body, calculating his weight and height, I knew – oh I just knew he had the perfect body mass index.
And oh, the way he fought inside the cage! It was poetry in motion, art painted in blood. The groans and moans of pain from his defeated foes were like hymns to the deadly beauty of his moves. But most impressively of all, he was honorable. The way he conducted himself inside the cage, the way he never baited those weaker than him, the way he always gave the bullies the comeuppance they so deserved—-
He was my superhero, and right now my superhero was staring at my naked breasts.
CRAAAAAAP!
I quickly covered my breasts at the realization. For the first time in my life, I wished I had longer hair. Really, really long hair, the kind that could cover my breasts completely. Or maybe I could be a mermaid and have one of those shell-made bras.
He was still staring. The fierce look glittering in his eyes, which were a stunning shade of green, made me feel like he could see through my hands. It made me turn pink all over.