Page 30 of Black Hearted
I turned just as Brunok stepped into the ring, his eyes locked on me like I was prey.
Movement on the other side of the cage caught my attention. I saw Malek, Donahue’s associate, standing beside the Enforcer.His black hair and ice-blue eyes reminded me so much of Isolde. Still holding the wooden box with the winnings and the faestone dagger, he stood like a sentinel, guarding the prize.
“The winner of this fight walks away with one hundred gold coins,” the Enforcer roared, and the crowd cheered their approval. “Not to mention the bragging rights,” he added with a chuckle as Brunok beat his chest like a wild animal.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to push aside the thoughts of my black blood and Nellie’s face pressed against the bars. I needed to get into Brunok’s head before the bell rang and—
The bell rang.
Brunok exploded forward, charging at me like a bear.
I steeled myself, raising my wrapped hands as he threw a strong left hook. I ducked, dodging the blow aimed at my temple, and took a step back to get out of range.
I needed to focus, but my mind swam with concerns—being exposed, Nellie watching, the stakes of this fight.
Brunok’s fist slammed into my stomach, forcing bile up my throat and the breath from my lungs.
I stumbled back, coughing, struggling to catch my breath.
I’d barely seen him move.
“Well, folks, it looks like Zane is finally getting tired. Brunok has the upper hand,” the Enforcer’s voice boomed as the crowd cheered.
Focus, Zane,I chastised myself. Then an image of sweet Lorelei rose in my mind, and an eerie calm washed over me.
Win the fight. Get the money. Find Lorelei.
I rolled my shoulders again, meeting Brunok’s gaze. He smiled, smug, as if he’d already won.
He hadn’t won.
We were just getting started.
I went berserk, snapping out rapid-fire jabs to Brunok’s left cheek, chin, and right temple. He tried to back out of range, but I moved with him, hammering him over and over with my fists.
“Oh, and Zane is back in the fight,” the Enforcer shouted as the crowd roared.
Brunok finally broke my onslaught by kicking out at me, forcing some space between us. He glared, his expression dark. Just as I was about to move in again, I felt it—my insides started to warm.
The fiend was using his power.
“You coward,” I spat. “Using your power because you can’t take me like a man.”
I saw the exact moment he snapped. His already-black eyes went cold and emotionless, and he came at me like a man possessed. Then, he broke the one unspoken rule between every man alive.
He kicked me hard, right between the legs.
Pain and nausea exploded through me as I dropped to the ground.
Before I could react, Brunok delivered three brutal blows to the side of my head. The pain there was nothing compared to the deep, throbbing ache between my legs.
My stomach threatened to revolt, but I fought it.
This bastard is going to die.
Summoning strength I didn’t know I had, I shoved myself to my feet and attacked Brunok with every ounce of fury I possessed.
I kicked, punched, elbowed. He fell to the ground, and I was on top of him, pulverizing his face, until I realized he’d gone limp.
