Chapter 14
Rowan
A fighting cage dominated the center of a repurposed train station in the heart of Edinburgh, on the edge of Westwater territory.
The ancient railroad tracks covering the floor disappeared under the sheer number of bodies pressed around the cage.
I sat just a step up from them on the bleachers.
Above me, boxes either belonging to families or rented to the wealthy loomed.
Although a few bits of the roof leaked on the unsuspecting, the dreary weather of Edinburgh didn’t penetrate the crumbling sheets of metal, stone, and magic. The sounds of yelling, betting, and talking, bounced around the space in a whirlwind of energy and excitement.
“Bloody hell,” Joe said. “If the commander projected that when trainees shit their breeches, we’d have them sorted in no time.”
I laughed. I needed this.
My exit from the Moores contract was a disaster.
Despite offering up my brother, Angela refused out of pure spite.
My reasons to stay punched me in the gut, making me question everything.
I was the third son of a destitute, dying family.
Yes, I had a lot of raw power, but I literally brought nothing else to the table.
.. unless tethering someone against both our wills was a skill.
Fuck. I still hadn’t talked to Quinn, and now I’d waited too long. Shame I wasn’t used to feeling strangled me.
But tonight, none of that existed. I’d put Quinn’s heart and the shit show that was my life into a box, drowning it in liquor, excitement, and violence.
An announcement boomed unintelligibly around the room, causing people to cheer and boo. Joe’s eyes actually glowed. “Brit’s up next. They’re taking a break to reset the ring just for her.”
I elbowed my smitten friend, and he grunted, his drink-flushed face mixing with a blush.
The warehouse’s bright lighting changed, swirling with pink and yellow. A ball of sparkling fireworks exploded over the fighting cage. Brit stepped into the ring, and the crowd roared.
My jaw dropped, and Joe reached over and pushed it closed. “All mine.”
Brit, dressed in her trainee uniform, reminded me of a square.
Her clothing bulged against hard muscles and wide hips.
Brit, in almost nothing, was a walking kink no man knew he had.
Her athletic physique popped while the halter barely held her curves.
Straps cut across her body, making her look sexy and badass at the same time.
She jumped to the middle and thrust her arms into the air.
Her wrapped hands sparkled with pink, and more ribbons dangled off of them.
Every ‘boo’ in the room turned into a cry, and I found myself off my feet cheering.
Her opponent appeared next, a foot taller with pale skin and a gleaming bald head; only a loose pair of shorts covered his waist. His veins popped down his arms, and a few on his chest protruded unnaturally.
It wasn’t a good sign.
The crowd quieted as stats appeared in the air. Announcements boomed around the room. Rounds of betting fired off. Brit played to the crowd like the show-woman she was. Her opponent sat still with a dark grin on his face.
“She’ll wipe the floor with him,” Joe stated, taking a betting card.
I glanced up at the stats. “Odds are not in her favor. And his veins...” I took my own betting card. “He might be on something.”
Joe grunted. “You’ll see.”
Tension built between the two fighters until the ringmaster dragged them together, forcing them to shake hands.
After he’d retreated far out of the cage, a bell sounded.
Brit charged, hitting the guy with a good left hook.
The mountain of a man didn’t even flinch.
He reached forward, trying to grab Brit, but she dropped, rolled between his legs, and kicked him hard in the back of the knee.
The man grunted this time, but didn’t fall.
“Shite,” Joe said, some of his fun turning into tension. Two more jabs and kicks followed, each of Brit’s strikes hitting home. After the last kick, he turned to the side and spat. A wad of bloody saliva hit the ring.
“You warmed up now, little girl?” the man asked.
Brit set her stance, and her moss-green eyes glowed. “Get your lazy feet moving and find out.”
The man grinned and charged. Brit dodged his first hit, but his second took her in the side, sending her flying into the caged wall.
Quinn’s worry spiked in my chest. Wrong damn time for it.
The man was already on Brit, and she rolled away from him just before his knee would have dented her skull. She flipped to standing in one smooth movement. Her heel clipped the man in the ear before he lurched back. Such a slow response time for a fighter.
He grinned and stood.
“I’m excited to see you broken at my feet.” He wiped crimson across his face. “Where all women end up.”
Quinn’s worry turned to rage and excitement. And my gut twisted with certainty. I couldn’t ignore her anymore. I let her emotions wash over me, and the sense of her location seeped into my subconscious. My gaze zoomed in on a knot of men standing right at the front of the raised cage.
A collective “ugh” swept the crowd. I missed how he did it, but Brit was on the ground, blood pouring down her face. She managed to stand, only to fling herself sideways again. This wasn’t a battle. It was a slaughter.
Next to me, Joe tried to rise, and I gripped his arm, keeping him in place. My heart raced in my chest, instantly sobering me. It wasn’t just the danger. Quinn had run from violence, from seeing her friends get hurt, and now…
The man hit Brit again, slamming her into the chains and ripping the ribbons off her left arm.
Men booed. “This isn’t a fight.”
“Fuck this, I bet on her; it’s not even a show,” another man said.
Joe’s magic seeped out of his body, and I gripped him harder. “This is Brit’s job. She signed up for this. Stay calm.”
The weight of Quinn’s stormy emotions raged in me.
Brit bled in the ring, Quinn bled in my chest, and I couldn’t stop either.