“Indeed, he did.” Noah exhales heavily.
My brain is just coming back online.He kissed me in front of everyone.
“Come on, let’s go,” Jace growls.
The stairwell opens into a massive underground pit, a wide circle surrounded by steel rails and tiered stone benches. Lights hang from chains above, throwing stark shadows across the floor. A crowd is already gathered, some in uniform, some in sweatshirts and boots, all leaning in like they’re watching something sacred and violent unfold.
And in the center, the cage. No mats. Just concrete and bloodstains and the hum of something like an animal waiting to break free.
Noah finds us a spot along the lower railing. Luca disappears briefly to flirt with the person running the bets. Jace stands just behind me, eyes sweeping the room.
Tex reaches over his head and pulls off his shirt then steps through the gate.
Roaring cheers, whistles, and shouts of his name fill the space. Apparently, he’s known here.
His opponent is taller, broader, and cocky as hell. He smiles and taunts Tex.
Tex takes the first hit, a brutal jab to the jaw that turns his face but doesn’t move his body.
Then he smiles.
And unleashes hell. It isn’t elegant. It isn’t clean. But it’s devastating. Every punch lands with the kind of finality that says don’t get back up. His opponent does anyway. Twice. The third time, he stays down.
The match ends with a roar. I can’t stop staring. My heart is hammering, not from fear, but something wilder. Something hotter.
Tex in a fight is something else entirely.
Itisn’t reckless. It’s controlled violence; every move is instinct.
Beside me, Luca whistles low. “Think he was showing off for you.”
I glance up at Jace, who’s still watching the ring.
“He always fight like that?”
“No,” Jace says.
The crowd is still buzzing from Tex’s win.
He steps out of the ring like he just went for a run — jaw tense, knuckles bloodied, sweat dripping down his spine. But his eyes find mine the second he crosses the gate. He says nothing, just gives the smallest nod like you saw that, and I nod back like hell yes, I did.
He disappears from view as he makes his way up to us. He grabs a towel from a crate near the wall and leans against the railing beside Luca, who hands him a bottle of water without looking.
“Who’s next?” Noah asks, glancing toward the ring.
There’s a pause.
“I’ll go,” Jace says.
Three heads turn.
Even Luca blinks. “You sure?”
“Have some things to work off.” He’s already pulling off his coat, folding it neatly over the railing beside me. His black shirt fits too well. His sleeves roll up in one smooth motion. The holster on his hip is unclipped and passed to Noah, who takes it wordlessly.
Jace steps toward the ring with that slow, unhurried stride like he isn’t walking into a fight, but into a meeting he fully intends to dominate. My breath catches before I even realize why. Because this isn’t like watching Tex.
This isn’t heat. It’s chill. Calculated. Quiet. Lethal.
