Page 103 of Scarlet Wars
Sean shrugged, his tone matter of fact. “Mostly people with nothing to lose. Some do it for the money. Some for the adrenaline. And then some to blow off steam.”
I snorted, then shook my head. “We should introduce them to a late-night Pilates class instead.”
Sean barked a laugh, the sound unexpected over the roar of blood-hungry people. “Pretty sure snapping a guy’s spine is their version of a downward dog.”
I wrinkled my nose, still watching the crimson smear across the dirt floor. “Remind me again why we thought this would be fun?”
Sean gave me a sidelong look, mouth curling right as Levi reappeared with three drinks balanced effortlessly in one hand, his damn smile still aimed squarely at me. “Because after a week of fighting humans,” Sean drawled, “we clearly hadn’t had our fill of death yet.”
Levi handed Jackson his drink, passed one to Sean, and saved the last for me, his fingers brushing mine a fraction too long. I shivered at the touch, and it wasn’t the good kind.
“You picked a good night to come,” he said, the words carrying easily over the crowd. “There’s a newcomer in the ring tonight.” Levi leaned in, like he was letting us in on the best kind of scandal. “Fresh blood. But not green. Word is, he’s torn through half the underground circuit already, never lost, never hesitated. But he’s never stepped into one of my cages, so I’m veryexcitedto see where it goes tonight.”
Jackson took a slow sip of his drink, unimpressed. “Perfect. Another butcher with impulse control issues. Just what the world needed.”
“Mm.” Levi tilted his head, his thumb dragging once along his knuckles. “Difference is, you’ll recognize this one.”
Before I could ask who it was, the crowd surged louder, feet pounding against the metal stands as the gate to the pit creaked open.
I turned as the gate screeched open. A tall figure stepped out beneath the harsh floodlights, the crowd’s noise dimming to a dull hum in my ears.
His shoulders were squared, every line of his body coiled with that same contained violence I knew all too well. Each step he took was sharp, like he was built for this place.
The lights cut across his face, carving familiar angles out of shadow. For a heartbeat I thought it had to be a trick, but the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, and the impossible calm in the storm, none of that belonged to a stranger.
He lifted his chin as he scanned the crowd. Even from across the pit, I felt how the space between us seemed to narrow until it was only him and me.
Caden.
TWENTY-FIVE
CADEN
Three days of hunting—three days of torturing the man who’d kept hercaged—hadn’t cooled the fire in me. If anything, it had awakened the part of me I’d buried cycles ago.
Someone had hurt her. Someone had used her.
And in the middle of her darkest night, she’d reached for me…and I’d never come through.
As if her grief hadn’t already dragged up ghosts of my own, I now had to live with that guilt on top of it.
Which meant sleepless nights. Again.
The clang of the gate slamming shut yanked me back to the present. Across the cage, my opponent waited.
He was massive. Broad shoulders that strained against scarred skin, chest mapped with old burns and fresh ink. His nose had clearly been broken more times than anyone could count, set crooked and jagged, and one ear was little more than a mangled lump. He paced the edge of the ring like a caged animal, head low, locked on me with a predator’s focus.
The crowd roared his name, a guttural chant that rattled the metal beneath my feet. He soaked it in, rolling his shoulders, grinning wide enough to show the only two teeth he had left.
Not some desperate man looking for coin or release. This one fought for the pleasure of it.
Good.
Because tonight, I needed a challenge.
The bell rang—if that rusted hunk of metal counted as a bell—and the cage erupted.
He came at me like a battering ram, head down, shoulders driving, throwing wild haymakers and elbows like clubs. When they landed, the impact crackled through me; when they missed, it was a gift.
