Xander saunters to the rocky terrain in the pit, scaling it with ease. Balancing precariously at the top, he gestures to the nearest entrance to the pit. “Old grudge you want to settle? Want to be our new supreme overlord? Shoot your shot just for the hell of it? Then follow the signs posted throughout the stadium to gather behind this gate. No fighting in the halls, please. Even if the person ahead of you manages to slay the dragons, you can take him out and steal his spot. Besides, that’s no way to start off your reign when we have women present that could get caught in the crossfire.” He waggles his eyebrows. “And a little birdie told me we have several unmated ones in the crowd today that I’m sure you want to impress. So best behavior, please.”
Naturally, a murmur ripples through the crowd as they look around, and I tap a button on my phone, taking over the screens to show a livestream of the other VIP box. It wasn’t nearly as hard of a sell as I thought it would be when I approached the women working as strippers in Evren’s club. They ended up there by choice because they loved the freedom, money, and having men fall at their feet. Several of them agreed to come because they were curious, and happy to play a part because they appreciated what I was trying to accomplish. Others, because they’ve been in the business long enough they’ve had their fill and aren’t opposed to moving onto the next stage of their lives if someone catches their eye.
Dozensof people rise to their feet, moving down to line up at one end of the arena. Wetting my lips, I try not to be too obvious as I stand up enough to see Raiden, Stone, and Kodiak emerging from the gate beneath me, confidently striding into the fighting pit with casual indifference. Only because I know them so well do I notice the way Kodi cants his head to the side, pausing as he sifts through the masses to lock in on my emotional state, ensuring everything’s fine. The way Raiden feigns boredom, lazily looking over the crowd, but meticulously filing away anyone that registers as a threat, running countless scenarios through his head to ensure he’s prepared for every possibility of this going off the rails. And Stone, not fearing death, but embodying it. Indifferent. Brutal. Casting an aura of ‘fuck off’ vibes, because he has better places to be.
Xander hops down, slinking off to the sidelines as the first contender walks through the gates. “Pick your opponent, my good sir. Defeat one member of the Garrison legion, defeat them all.”
Even from here, I can feel the slimy vibes off of this overconfident douchebag. “Stone.”
In theory, it’s a wise choice. The last few decades, Kodiak ran security, showing off his skills publicly and frequently. Raiden runs Khalida, the only member that’s played an active role of leader. Stone’s faded into the background for centuries, opting to work as a doctor in the human world and avoid conflict.
Stone tucks his hands in his pockets, sauntering forward without a care in the world until meeting his opponent in the center of the arena. “Take your best shot. I won’t even shift.”
The man doesn’t disappoint. Cameras zoom in, capturing the cruel gleam in his eyes as he shifts into a bobcat and slashes his claws from throat to hip. Blood stains Stone’s front, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. He stares stoically down at the prowling cat as his healing kicks in, removing every trace of ever being hurt besides his tattered shirt and bloody clothes.
Raising an eyebrow, he asks, “Is that all you’ve got?”
A furious snarl is ripped from the bobcat’s throat before he launches at Stone with a vengeance. As much as it helps us in the long run, it hurts to watch. Watching Stone simply stand there as he’s attacked, seeing the blood staining the sand at his feet. The contender doesn’t pull any punches, going so far as to latch his jaws around Stone’s throat and tear it out in a series of furious snarls.
But Stone never falls. Ravaged beyond recognition, he remains standing, barely offering more than a grunt in pain. The bobcat takes a few steps back to assess, finally starting to show signs of concern. Rolling his neck and shoulders, Stone sucks in a sharp breath as he heals from every wound. When his opponent doesn’t make another move to attack him, he finally pulls his hands out of his pockets.
“My turn.” He doesn’t even use a borrowed ability. Darting forward, he grabs the bobcat around the throat, lifts, and snaps his neck before I can blink.
Silence descends on the stadium before it’s consumed by an uproar of both cheers, and indignant cries. They all roll off of Stone’s back as he returns to his brothers’ side without a care.
‘You can’t always trust what you see, Amara. It’s why some people turn a blind eye to atrocities, justify someone’s actions when all the evidence is against them, or condemn someone without waiting for an explanation. Life is hard, and we all do whatever we have to in order to survive.’
As annoying as the truth is, I shove aside Stone’s words of wisdom. He’s completely right. Truth is subjective, and people tend to believe whichever side screams louder, no matter the evidence.
People suck. Life sucks. But if we’re lucky enough to find it, somewhere amidst it all is something great. Something worth fighting for.
Doing another scan of my surroundings, I feign confidence I don’t remotely feel. A few people stare back at me, assessing. It’s pretty obvious who I am even if they’ve never seen me, simply because I’m seated next to Carina with her hot pink hair, and surrounded by several members of the security team, even if they try to blend in. Several gazes I meet only hold animosity, but there are a few that give me pause. They’re more calculating; dangerous. But those are the ones Iwantthe attention of.
If they care enough to scrutinize, no matter how cruel they might be, they’re open-minded. Able to adapt.
“Next contender!” Xander calls, grinning down at the corpse leaving a path in the sand as it’s dragged out. Another walks forward, twice as big as the last, stacked with muscle and a permanent scowl.
“Kodiak,” he drawls, spitting on the ground between them.
Kodi isn’t as benevolent as Stone. He doesn’t allow a single hit, dodging every strike with a dancer’s grace, toying with his opponent and dragging things out. It would be easy for him to end his opponent; one swipe of a claw, using the metal cuff he always wears as a stake to drive through his enemy’s heart.
But that’s not nearly as much fun.
“Didn’t you come here to kill me?” Kodiak swivels on his heel, dodging yet another swipe of the snarling wolf’s claws. “It’s not like my abilities are a secret. You had to have a plan… right?” He sidesteps another lunge, dragging a foot through the sand dramatically to draw a line between them. “Tell me you didn’t come here today thinking you’d just tear my throat out?” he asks with a laugh. “I haven’t even shifted yet. Hell, I don’t think I have to. You’re a dog chasing its own tail, doing all the work for me. I don’t have any interest in killing you, you know. Tap out and you can live to fight another day.”
At that, the man shifts back in an instant, snarling. “There’s no honor in quitting.”
“There’s no honor in a useless death,” Kodiak counters seriously. “If you’re going to sacrifice yourself, at least make it be for something you believe in.”
“I am,” he spits, moments before he shifts back and lunges for Kodi’s throat.
It takes no more effort than swatting a fly. One moment there’s a wolf in the air, the next he’s lying broken in the sand. Kodi makes a quick motion over his forehead and chest, staring down at the wolf with a look of sad resignation.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” he whispers, but the microphones positioned around the arena pick it up easily, carrying his voice over the crowd. He stalks back to the others without another word, head held high, but a crushing weight on his shoulders.
The next contender strides out, calling Raiden forward. He almost glances back at me, stopping at the last moment and returning his focus on his opponent, not wanting to draw attention to me for those that haven’t identified me yet. His dark hair brushes his shoulders, and he ties it up with his favorite leather band as he walks across the sand. By the time he’s facing down his opponent, his emotions aren’t confined by the careful mask people are used to seeing. He radiates violence, meeting his opponent’s eyes.
“Don’t throw your life away. Do you actually want this, or do you only want bragging rights?” he demands.
