AEDAN
Feck. What the hell had I been thinking? Sure, I’d had to go pull those bastards off her, but I shouldn’t have started talking to her. If I really wanted the best for her, I had to stay the hell away from her.
Even now, I could feel my hands unconsciously forming fists, my knuckles cracking as I thought about what they’d done. What they would’ve done, if I hadn’t followed her down that hallway.
Her brother. Koning was her brother. Shit.
I’d come to watch the fight because I needed to scratch that itch.
Once, I’d been happy with that bloodlust inside me.
I’d accepted it as part of me. But then I’d been woken up, in the ugliest way possible, to what I was.
A thug. A beast. The more I fought, the worse I got.
So I’d stopped, and now I hung around on the fringes of society instead.
A non-life: working to keep me busy, fucking, a little drinking to take the edge off.
Just whiling away the hours. I stayed away from my old life.
And yet I still came to the fights.
I realized I was rubbing at the scars on my neck, and pulled my hand away.
There was a fight at The Pit most weeks, but I only came once a month or so.
Probably why I hadn’t run into her before.
Sylvie. My angel had a name, now. And fate was laughing at me.
Her brother! I had to get out of there, now.
I’d come to watch the fight, but suddenly I couldn’t stand to see it.
Suddenly, it wasn’t just two guys in the ring. Suddenly, it was personal.
I headed for the door. I had to fight the urge to look over my shoulder and try to catch another glimpse of her.
Alec Koning was her brother. I’d been around the scene enough that I could peg a fighter’s chances just by looking at him. I’d seen Alec when he’d arrived and I knew his opponent, a guy called Morgan. “Ripper” Morgan.
Sylvie’s brother was going to get annihilated.