Author's note: Caroline started her day with a discovery that would change everything modern science knew about prehistoric man...and then ended her day pitted against a feral beast in an ancient arena where primal instincts reigned.

Warning: Violence


"Instinct is a marvelous thing. It can neither be explained nor ignored."
― Agatha Christie, The Mysterious Affair at Styles


Bleached bones littered the ground. Some were stacked in macabre towers while others were scattered in every direction. However, some were more recent. Too recent. As Caroline stared in horror at the dripping flesh clinging to the greasy pile in front of her, she realized where she was. This was a feeding ground.

Sweat stung her eyes as she scrambled to her feet, squinting suspiciously at the bright sun. Southern Russia didn't know heat like this — especially not at the Chagyrskaya Caves site she'd been excavating with her team just hours ago. A dull throb at the base of her head caught her attention, and she gingerly felt along her blonde braid, wincing at the sticky blood that came away on her fingers.

Brief flashes came to her as she began to piece together what happened. Wandering down a rocky trail with her canteen. Stupid to go alone, but she was tired of dodging creepy old Professor Saltzman's clumsy innuendos. Then a piercing howl sent her into a blind panic. She stumbled along a stream, fear gripping her heart as she heard heavy splashes that weren't her own. A steel gaze suddenly appeared, coldly assessing her. She instinctively punched, a glancing blow that earned a dark chuckle. A curling smile tipped with fangs...and then nothing.

Caroline clenched her fists, trying to fight her rising panic. She jumped away from the nearest pile of gore-streaked bones, her back hitting smooth, cool stone that ended far above her head. No way out. A quick glance told her she was in some sort of arena, crudely carved by glaciers eons ago. A horn sounded, its thunderous noise echoing along the rock walls. Startled, she glanced up to see a crowd of people fan out along the top of the structure. Inordinately attractive, they possessed an otherworldly grace that did nothing to dispel her fears. They studied her with a ferocity that made her want to shrink into herself. A hunger, she thought darkly, recalling the fangs she'd seen.

A familiar steel gaze caught hers. Her attacker was here. Unwillingly, she was taken aback by his beauty. In a crowd of beautiful...things, he stood apart. Like a marble statue with the regal bearing of a king, he carried the massive curved horn at his side, paying no mind to its obvious heft. What the hell kind of animal would've made that tusk? Any mammal that large would've died out tens of thousands of years ago.

She was struck by the eerie silence of those gathered; from their furtive glances at their leader, they were waiting for him to speak. "A dilemma stands before us: offering or warrior?" He paused in his accented voice, a wicked smirk appeared as he glanced down at Caroline. "We desire amusement. And our beasts are hungry."

The man who sentenced her to death had dimples. And fangs. But for some reason, it was the dimples that got her. And what was that about an offering or a warrior? Was she being tested? Against beasts who were hungry. He sounded the horn once more, a long, gruesome bellow that sent the crowd into an uproar.

Caroline's eyes widened in alarm as the seemingly smooth rock before her split neatly in two, revealing an enormous cavern lit by twin golden lights. No, not lights. Eyes. She barely had time to leap out of the way as a snarling wolf the size of a truck barreled into the arena. What. The. Fuck. She'd seen a wolf like that once before — as a specimen preserved in the permafrost of the Russian mountain range Suntar-Khayata. From the Pleistocene era. She was staring at a creature that was supposed to have died out 40,000 years ago.

The beast's low growl made her gasp, and she frantically scanned the primitive arena for a weapon. Stomach turning, she shakily grabbed a splintered human femur from the scattered bones and gripped it tight. The wolf sniffed the air, wiry fur standing on end as the stench of her fear seemed to provoke it. The crowd above taunted her, and she saw flashes of gold and silver exchange greedy hands as they placed wagers on how quickly (and gruesomely) she'd be killed.

It angered her that she searched the crowd for the leader. She told herself she didn't care what the mad king of this cult thought. She was struck by his stillness — while his people mockingly laughed and displayed a chaotic energy, he watched her intently. Judging.

As the monster raced toward her, she instinctively scrambled on top of the nearest pile of bones, her scuffed boots slipping on the rotten gristle. Terrible jaws opened wide, revealing fangs as long as her arms. Heart hammering in her chest, her thoughts raced. She knew this creature.

It had been the focal point of her thesis, for fuck's sake, so she damn well better make that knowledge work for her now. Two thick coats of fur and a nearly impenetrable muscle wall meant she couldn't go for most of its organs. Even tens of thousands of years later, the fossil she studied displayed bone density that was unmatched by modern mammals, so crippling it was out of the question.

The beast's thundering roar nearly made her jump out of her skin, and as she stared down its cavernous jaws, she remembered that it had an enlarged nasal passage — if enough pressure was applied, she could reach its brain. Instinct kicked in and her body took over, performing a complicated full layout with an uppercut twist she hadn't done since cheerleading camp ages ago. Thank you, Ms. Donovan for being a bitter old divorcée with stale chardonnay breath who made us practice that move over and over. If she got out of this alive, Caroline was sending that miserable old bitch a case of wine.

She was surprised by how easily the splintered bone burst through the roof of the wolf's mouth, but as the beast faltered in its gallop, its fangs sliced into her forearms, causing her to shriek in pain as she landed on top of its matted fur as they hurtled to the ground. She scrambled away as quickly as she could, leaving a bloody trail as she rolled her shredded flesh into her jacket to staunch the wounds.

A stunned hush had fallen over the crowd, but she kept her gaze on the monster as it took a final, snarling breath before its golden eyes slid shut. Their leader sounded the horn once more, a smugness to his face that Caroline didn't understand. He'd told his people, an 'offering or warrior'. In his eyes, was she now a warrior? The arena remained disturbingly silent, the air heavy with anticipation. When he suddenly tossed a gold dagger near her feet, she didn't understand the collective gasp that came from those gathered.

This must be part of their blood sport — she'd survived the first round, and now she was being rewarded with a weapon before they put something else in the arena that wanted to kill her. Caroline eyed the blade warily, the anthropologist in her noting how carnelian and amber had been worked into the hilt, much like the area's ancient Scythians and other tribes. It seemed to be more ceremonial than functional, but it was a better weapon than the femur she'd used on the wolf, and might be the only thing that could keep her alive for whatever came next.

Once it was in her grasp, the crowd murmured excitedly, their leader silencing them with a single gesture as he stared down at her with a triumphant gleam. Caroline wondered if maybe she should've chosen the femur instead.


Exquisite tapestries decorated polished marble walls. Intricately carved, gold leaf furniture sat before a gigantic fireplace. She'd started her day unearthing evidence of a previously undiscovered ancient race that would change everything modern science knew about prehistoric man...and now she was sitting in a palace carved into a mountain. She'd been led to this sumptuously decorated room by a pair of impossibly gorgeous servants who bizarrely bowed their heads in deference to her as they tended her wounds. They'd flashed away in a swish of fabric before she'd been able to ask questions.

Nerves frayed, she wandered over to the mantle to distract herself with the beautiful ivory pieces. Her gaze roamed over lifelike animals, trembling fingers reaching out to touch the cool surfaces.

"Do you like my hobby?"

She let out an undignified squeak, nearly dropping the carved grizzly she'd been admiring. As she whirled around, she found herself facing the leader. Her attacker. "I'm Klaus," he said in an accented voice she couldn't readily identify. The brush of his lips along her knuckles made her blush, and she snatched her hand away as though she'd been burned.

"Caroline," she replied sharply, opening her mouth to demand why he'd taken her, but instead, she was distracted by the horn he'd leaned against the wall. She recognized it from the arena, and with an air of disbelief, she said, "That's a mammoth tusk."

"Yes."

His obvious indifference made her grit her teeth. "No, I mean that's a fresh mammoth tusk. Fresh as in less than three months' dead. That's impossible." She threw up her hands in aggravation, adding, "Not to mention the wolf you set loose that my entire academic career insists has been extinct for 40,000 years."

Klaus' fangs impishly poked out of his amused smile. "Your intrepid scientific community is a source of constant amusement, sweetheart."

"And then there's the fangs," she said with a screech, "what the fuck are you people?!"

He placed his hands behind his back, casually rocking on his heels as he told her, "Originals. I believe your fellow scientists are examining the remains of some of our fallen as we speak." He wryly explained, "Immortality overcomes a great many things — except stupidity."

Mind reeling, Caroline blurted out, "Initial testing at the dig site puts the bones at 20,000 years. You and your people can't be...I mean, it would be impossible to keep an entire ancient group hidden!" Dragging a hand over her face, she muttered, "I'd love to get my hands on your DNA."

Klaus threw back his curly head, laughing as he told her, "I confess that of the times I've been propositioned, none have asked to touch my...DNA."

The seductive curl of syllables on his tongue made her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest, but her temper flared as she remembered how she'd gotten here. "Seriously?! You attacked me, kidnapped me, tried to feed me to your gigantic wolf, and you think I'm going to do...what, exactly? Be flattered that you let me live?"

Klaus flashed her a devilish smirk, taking her hand in his as he nodded to the golden dagger still clenched in her other hand. "Of course not. You earned your life — a true warrior, just as I suspected from the moment you hit me. And now that you've accepted my blade, our courtship has begun." He drew her near, voice dropping to a reverent whisper as he promised, "What a magnificent queen you'll make."

Caroline definitely should've chosen the femur.