I didn’t know if that would change anything but… Who knew?
Another thing that irked me? In all my years in this business, I’d never seen others name a fighter. They never even asked her, just named her Mystic Frost.
It fucking pissed me off. She waskilling itand she couldn’t pick her own stage name? Granted she didn’t seem to care, but it was meant to be a slap in the face.
Like she couldn’t be smart enough to come up with a good name for herself when she was beating everyone’s asses. Ridiculous?
Yes, very.
But also… The name was lame. Oh, okay, Mystic because she was a mystic dragon? So clever. And assuming she was from a colder region of Thovudin because she was badass?
Pathetic.
The whole thing was lame and I was annoyed for her. I really was.
Her reaction when I’d said that and it was an insult she didn’t get to pick her own name was… Curious. She lookedamused like the secret she kept was greater than any insult could ever be.
Maybe she thought it was cute I cared?
Who knew with her, but at least it didn’t bother her.
But it bothered me that it didn’t bother her like it made me feel petty.
I blew out a harsh breath and got to work, ignoring Mystic Frost and all the drama surrounding her.
Which was near impossible when she was fighting that night.
She was poetry in motion. The way she moved—the way shefoughtwas beyond words. And I’d watched more fights that I wanted to remember given my line of work.
I’d also long since figured out that she was drawing out the fights like I’d recommended. She seemed almost bored most of the time and then would remember she was there to put on a show, not simply smash someone’s face in.
Honestly, she was my kind of woman.
Ignoring all the comments she wasn’t pretty and was too plain—not flashy enough or what they would want, she was more than her looks. Wasn’t that what people should focus on?
But she was attractive. She was a normal level of attractive and people mocked her for that.
Funny, I’d never heard that criticism of male fighters.
A month of killing it in fights and the odds still weren’t in her favor. Men—especially the extra testosterone-filled ones who enjoyed underground fighting rings like this—simply couldn’t wrap their minds around a woman winning.
Even though she was the first that I could remember taking on two fighters at once. The regulars were ready to see her get beaten.
Fine, even I would normally bet against someone who was doing two on one… But not her. Anyone who used their eyes and brain knew she was holding back a lot more power.
Theagentswere frothing for her to lose and the freak or fad to move on. More like they were jealous they didn’t snag her first.
I shivered at the idea of some of them getting her under their influence.
“What’s up with you today?” her agent, Myriam Metcalf, asked as her fighter came out of the cage.
“She’s getting bored of this,” Mystic Frost replied quietly. Most wouldn’t have heard her, but I was close and I’d always focused on training my hearing above all else.
It kept me alive given my past and what I did.
“You need to take her flying,” she lectured. “Don’t neglect your dragon. My tiger is—you gotta take her flying.”
The fighter shot her an annoyed look that was rather sexy. “Right, because it’s not all over the capital to look out for a rare mystic dragon that’s female. Is that your stupid for today?”
