The next three fights pass with barely a muster of energy. There’s no explosion of skill, no prowess as the men grapple with each other on the dingy floor.
Amateurs. It’s almost disappointing. How could anyone vote for someone like that as a second?
Nursing the cold glass to my cheek, Collins stands between my legs as she cleans my split lip. Her fingers shake the barest amount and I see how she shifts, rubbing those long legs together. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the violence turned her on.
Interesting. I can barely contain my glee. I knew my viper was wicked, but not like this. Maybe we really are meant for the other?
She pokes my lip and I wince, the sharp pain stealing my breath and thoughts.
“Hayes Monticello, the infamous brawler of the O’Brien clan and a little cut can take him down.” She rolls her eyes. “The girls would be so upset to see you like this.”
Giving her a dirty look, I try like hell to keep my eyes off her legs. “What girls, viper? I only have eyes for you.”
She scoffs. “Right. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how many women you bring around the house.” My mind flashes to faceless beauties. None of them lasted longer than a week. Not when Collins was here. “Blonde, blue eyes. Real original.”
I wink. “Do you watch me, Collins?” I tease, watching her cheeks flush. “I’ll let you in on a secret.” I pull her flush, my body curving around hers protectively. My lips brush her ear, scotch still on my tongue as I say, “None of them can hold a candle to your beauty. Want to know why?”
“Enlighten me,” she drawls. I laugh at her.
“Because none of them can kill me. Only you can. Because you’re devious. If pushed the right way.” My tongue licks at her lobe and she gasps, her sweet breath fanning my collarbone. “And I’d let you, Collins. Because you’re worth dying for.”
Her cheeks turn a dusty pink and it’s quickly becoming my favorite color on her.
Clearing her throat, she shoves me back. “You should let me give you medicine.” She’s avoiding me and I chuckle. “I can’t if you’re drinking.”
Stealing the glass back, I take a deep swallow, her eyes trailing my tongue. “This works faster than medicine, and look. It’s already here.”
The final fight concludes with Ethan winning. A hard slam of the guy’s head into the slate floor and it was over. Good thing I put my money on him to win.
There are five contestants on the board now. Only three go to the trials. The clan now votes on who fights whom. They prioritize blood, so all my favors are useless at this point. Now, it’s up to Fate.
Papers are tossed around, as members write messy names in their drunken stupor. Killian collects them, remaining passive as he tallies the votes. He murmurs something into Maeve’s ear, hand hovering over her leg.
Then, a flash of silver, as Maeve lays her knife over his knuckles in warning. We might be fighting, but damn, I’m proud.
Then the first fight begins as Maeve calls West and Finn. It’s strategic. The clan knows West is lower than Finn and they want Finn to go to the next round. He’s a cousin, built from tough stock, with a steely gaze that doesn’t waver.
The fight doesn’t last the full five minutes. Finn’s fucking ruthless. With a thin body and quick hands, he attacks West right away. A few punches gets him on the ground, and Finn catches him around the back. Locked in, knife to his throat, Finn cuts deep without waiting for Maeve’s decision.
They’re dragging West’s body away as Collins snorts. “He didn’t even wait.”
“He didn’t have to.” At her arched brow, I tip my glass back. “Only cruelty gets you points here, Collins. Finn knows that. We all do.”
“And Maeve?” she asks, dabbing harder at my cut. I wince.
“She, most of all.”
“I’m starting to see that,” she muses. “But we all don’t have to make it our entire personality. We can control it, fight it back. Feed the light instead of the cruelty.”
Running my tongue over my teeth, I nod. “Some can. Unfortunately, when you’re fed only darkness, you don’t get that choice. That's all you know. It becomes who you are. Not feeding it, would mean not feeding your soul, and that only happens when you wish for death.”
Collins grabs the last bit of my drink, slamming the rest. “Death is too easy.”
Smirking absently, I gesture for more booze and wink at my date. “Not all of us grew up the favorite daughter of a powerful man, Collins. Cut the rest of us some slack.”
She physically flinches, closing herself off from me. A kernel of guilt explodes behind my chest, but she can’t honestly think she had it rough? Ferguson treasured his middle daughter, kept her protected, gave her the best of all the children. He ignored Sloane for most of her life and forced Maeve to serve his second.
Of all the siblings, she was allowed to thrive in the light. It’s one of the things I love about her—how she seems to radiate warmth and compassion. Only someone pure could ever be like that.
