Standing tall, I walk in with Leo next to me.
Floodlights, iron floor, dozens of eyes. My father and grandfather sit like carved ghosts. My brothers grin. They’re proud, but this is only the start.
Aoife’s here too. Somewhere in the crowd. I feel her. The way your skin feels like thunder before it cracks.
I remove my shirt. My skin’s torn in places. My bruises bloom purple. My fists are wrapped but bleeding through. I take a deep breath as I turn to see my opponent. A Russian legacy kid. Taller. Uninjured. This is his first test.
For me, it’s the last for this trial.
The bell rings.
We charge.
He leads with a jab, I duck, twist, hit his ribs with a right hook. He grunts. I feel his shoulder shift. He’s strong. But he’s not desperate.
I am.
He catches me across the jaw. My vision blurs.
I come back with a knee to the stomach. He stumbles.
I slam him into the ground.
He kicks. I block.
Another hit to my ribs. Something cracks. Fuck the pain blooms white behind my eyes.
I taste blood. I spit it. Then I roar.
A deep, primal, animal sound that shakes my chest.
He looks startled. That’s all I need. I tackle.
Elbow to temple. Fist to nose, and I hear the crack.
He drops. But I won't stop. I need to be sure.
One hit.
Two.
Three.
Now I know he is done, I stand up on shaking legs, with nothing left in me.
“Trial complete!” Leo shouts.
I turn to my grandfather and father, and I bow my head.
Breathing like a beast.
Leo claps a hand on my back.
I fucking won.
But it wasn’t just survival.
It was a sacrifice.
