I inhale, letting Collin’s sweep me away, her essence filling my lungs. All I can see, feel,touch, is her. The woman who is at once haunted but pure, hungry but sated, mine but not.
No, fuck that. Sheismine.
We break apart, and she heaves, eyes wide, glasses skewed. Her cheeks are an adorable pink, and her chin glistens with my spit and her lipstick. I like marking her with my fluids.
“Stay by Maeve,” I command, thumb ruining her makeup further.
“You need to live,” she reminds me, voice soft. She looks so pitifully turned on that I can’t help the swell of pride in my chest.I did that.“I’m not going to be Bruno’s wife.”
Agony, the kind that comes from being crushed under thousands of pounds, blooms under my skin.
“Like Hell is that happening, viper.” I exhale, holding on to the burning coal of anger. “There’s only one person you’re marrying. And it’s not fucking Roman.”
Her brow furrows as I step away, pushing everything for Collins away.
My mind needs to be clear, goal at the front. Win this, become a contender. Win this, and live.
Win this and keep Collins.
Heath stands in front of me, and I remember Collins’ tips. He’s smaller than me, dark eyes and light shaggy hair, but she said he’s dirty. Which means everything around me—the glasses, chairs, tables, Hell the knives—are all weapons. Everything is fair game.
Five minutes seems too short to have a real fight. But it’s just enough time to die.
Too bad I don’t plan on dying.
The whistle sounds and Heath throws a tumbler at my head. I drop and I silently thank Collins for her foresight. It explodes over my head and a few of the members shout out in alarm.
Pushing from the floor, I charge at Heath. Thank God my size helps. I take him down in a heap of limbs and his head snaps back, a nasty crack reverberating through the room. He swings out, vision blurry, but I grab his wrist and snap it.
Heath howls like a wounded dog as I scramble off of him to pull my knife. God, he’s loud. I’ve killed quieter men than this. He rolls, getting to his feet, but his eyes are clouded and I seize my chance, slicing my blade toward his chest.
The fucker turns at the last second, kicking out to my shin. Something cracks, not a full-on break, but enough for me to yell. A sprain, maybe.That shit hurts.
He blinks a few times, grabbing the silverware and chucks it at my head. Thankfully, his aim is shitty and it misses, a few of the forks slicing my thigh. A roar leaves my lips.
How many more lucky hits is he going to get? I need to end this.
Heath moves to the left as I jab but I fucking miss. The knife gets stuck in the hightop behind him and the douche punches me square in the jaw. Once, twice, he lands a few on my cheeks, one on my jaw and my eye. I smile—he’s actually trying here. I can appreciate the fight.
My whole head swims, nausea rolling up my throat and I bark out a laugh.
“Crazy fuck,” someone says to my left and I drop my knife.
Spinning, body rebelling, I avoid another hit to grab a chair. Like a ragdoll, I toss it at his head. It hits his thigh and he trips, crashing to his knees with a solid slap. Groaning, I pull my knife free and stalk closer.
But he’s not done. He surges upward, tackling us to the ground and the fight turns filthy. Nails digging, clothing pulled, everything is a weapon—floor, table legs, broken glass. My knife gets lost in the struggle and I mourn the loss.
Then, he flips me, his blade to my throat. Blinking, I see his head turn, looking to Maeve for the order.
Fuck this. I’m not dying like this. Not when I finally have Collins.
My hand wipes the ground and catches on a sharp piece of glass. It’s no bigger than a quarter, thin but it’ll work. Maeve raises her hand to pass judgement but I lash out, glass cutting his throat, breaking off into his skin in the last inch.
Warm blood sprays my face and chin. He gurgles, metal falling to the ground before slumping to the side. Gasping, I touch my neck, my face before sitting up to a crowd of stunned faces.
There’s a pause, then an explosion of cheers.
Glancing to the stage, I see Killian’s wicked grin and Maeve’s wide eyes. But Collins? Her smile is as radiant as the sun over crystal clear waters, and her lips are parted in disbelief.
