She side-eyes me, her foot tapping to each punch. “Five minutes to fight, to show the clan what they’re made of. Then, the clan votes on the winner. The winner goes to the board.”
Looking at the names, I cringe when I hear a few more hits connect. “There are ten names. That leaves 5 contestants. You only take three.”
“The two lower ones will have to battle it out with higher ranked men.” I look up at the clock. It’s only been three minutes? Adrenaline courses through my veins as my heart thrashes in my chest. This is madness in the purest form. “Hayes will be in the lower two.”
The fight continues, hits turning frenzied. It’s not Donovan who explodes, but Hayes, as he holds the man down to pummel him. He attacks with a savageness that reminds me of the angry sea—thrashing, rolling, cutting. Donovan falls back, face bleeding, jaw distended. It’s broken—along with a few fingers, a dislocated eye socket among other injuries.
This is Hayes. Primal, fierce, a man who can—and will kill, to get what he wants. This is the man who stalks the city streets and men scurry away in fright.
My core clenches in want. The fury, the viciousness floods my veins, turning my worry into carnal need.
Hayes has never been more attractive to me. And God, it’s doing unholy things to my pussy as I clench my thighs and pray for the madness to leave me. This scares me—this side, this need that gets off on violence. That’s why I lock it away and never let anyone see it.
And it’s going wild for my sister’s best friend.
Hayes pulls a blade and holds it to Donovan’s neck before I can gasp. Maeve raises her hand and the room quiets.
There’s still a minute left.
“Time,” she calls. Scanning the crowd, she jerks her chin. “Vote.”
A roar of applause erupts as Hayes stands. His cheek is bruised, lip cut and bleeding and his left leg holds most of his weight. But he’s alive. And he was magnificent.
Two men drag Donovan away, a few patting his shoulder in sympathy. He didn’t win but there is a kinship in his loss.
“Hayes goes on the board.” She nods, and the runner puts up his tag. Not before he hands a wad of cash to Killian for losing the bet. He slips it into his pocket, smirk smug.
Sitting on her seat, Maeve’s black nails dig into the armrests. “Five-minute break before the next round.”
The crowd attacks the bar while I spin, confusion marring my face. “He won, how will he be in the lower ranks?” I saw the way he fought, the way he attacked. He’s not the weakest member of this clan, he’s probably the strongest.
And that man will be sleeping in my bed tonight. Heat douses me and I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“He’ll be in the lower two because he isn’t blood. He has to work harder to get into these games. That’s just the way it is.” Maeve crosses her legs, barely looking at me.
Fury coats my skin and I dig my nails into my palms to keep from attacking. It’s not her fault—not completely. I’m reacting to the stimulation. And it usually goes one of two ways.
Get a hold of yourself.
“But you can help him.”
She shakes her head. “No, I can’t.”
“He’s your best friend?—”
“Andyourfiancé,” she bites out. “I can’t doanything. I am as much an onlooker as them.” She gestures to the crowd. “They decide who will become second. And I have to follow their wants. They’ll make him work for it simply because heisn’tblood.” She gives me a look. “Simply because heliedto the Captain. And they all know it.”
Catching myself against her throne, I breathe deeply.Dammit. My lie got us into this mess. I made things harder for him. Why couldn’t I just let things happen?
Because I need to control everything.
I never considered how this could screw everything up for Hayes. Or rather, I didn’t care. I only wanted someone to help me.
“You better hope your favor is enough to help him,” she mutters, slouching back in her seat. Killian hands her a glass of something dark that smells woodsy and heavy and she takes a long sip. “Otherwise, they won’t let him live.”
17
HAYES
