Blood and guts filled the air, and an eerie silence.
A beast that was a violation to shifters.
Adara had thought they were mightier than the gods.
Spasming, violent, it clawed at the ground, until it stopped, dead.
What was left in its wake was a man. A mortal man. Naked, blood smeared, his face contorted in pain. Bending over him, Lycaon brushed the man’s hair away from his face, still whispering, then carried him to the exit.
A muscled shifter nodded, Lycaon muttered to him as the shifter glanced at the broken body, and took him away.
Striding to the centre of the ring, Lycaon looked up, opening his arms and surveyed the crowd. He said one word.
“Next?”
Beside me, Austin was grabbed, shouting. Several brute shifters screamed at him, pulling him away, grabbing hold of his hands so that he couldn’t wield magic.
I lifted my hand to channel magic, Hakon snatched it back.
“Wait!”
They dragged Austin who was kicking and yelling. Then they threw him into the cage.
His face hidden in a hood, a man stood up on the seats at the back of the club overlooking the pit. He had been sitting, unseen, until now, by the back of the wall. His voice carried across the basement. Silence followed. It sent a shiver through me, it was similar to the voice of the person that threw the brick through my window.
Cold, cutting. Emotionless.
“Only one leaves alive. Or the witch dies. Begin.”
Lycaon turned around, raising his head, seeking who had commanded this. The man had sat back down.
Beside me, two burly shifters seized Hakon, and their beady eyes glared at me.
Austin rushed over to Lycaon in the ring, whispered something, then stood back, shaking out his arms as if preparing to fight.
What?
Lycaon charged, Austin stepped aside, putting his foot out at the last moment, then turned and watched as Lycaon tumbled, falling into the bars.
I tried to find Hakon, but only saw the shifters, taller than others, pulling him away through the crowd.
I weaved my fingers. I’d had enough.
Breathing heavily, Austin jogged on the spot, arms up, fists balled. The mage could fight?
His hair sticking to the sweat on his face, Lycaon swept it back with his palms.
Grinning, he raised his fists to match Austin. They bumped fists.
Moving his eyes, he searched me out. And winked.
I swallowed, waggling my fingers, ready.
Austin leapt at him. They turned, standing back to back, and shot out a whip of fire that lashed across the onlookers, clothing catching alight instantly.
Screaming followed, scrambling to get away.
I was shoved as the tidal wave of panic rippled through the packed cellar.
