Chapter 24 #2
“Stop what?” His head slanted to the side, his gaze plunging down my form, and more tingles rushed through me. A violent shiver jerked my bones as warmth spread between my thighs. The intensity made me roll my shoulders and shake my legs to dislodge the sensation.
“That,” I growled. “How are you able to do it? No one is supposed to have powers in here.” I shook my head with a scoff. “Guess the great Warwick Farkas is even above that. No rules could possibly apply to such a legend, right?”
A smirk twisted his full lips. “Calling me a legend without my even touching you? Just think what you will call me when I do.”
I glowered at him.
He lazily reached for me, and I pirouetted away, his fingers grazing my skin, sending excitement through the crowd.
Through me.
“But I have no idea what you are talking about,” he replied. As we circled each other again, his gaze drifted up to the stands before snapping back on me. “I’m not doing anything.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Yet.”
“What I would give to wipe that smug grin off your face,” I snarled, my ankles crossing as I sidestepped him.
“You think you have the ability to do it?” He slid in closer. “Please . . . be my guest. No one has before, but give it a go, tiny human.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m open to that as well.” He darted in so quickly, I didn’t have time to move. “Show me what you got.” His mouth grazed over my ear as he brushed by me, overloading my system with fire, down my neck to my breasts, sizzling me down to nothing.
Chuckling, as if he knew what he did to me, he strutted past, leaving me vulnerable. Exposed.
Angry.
In a blink, I whirled around. His back was to me, his focus on the crowd again. Snarling, I kicked, smashing my foot into the back of his legs. The giant man stumbled forward, his hands shoving off the ground, but he quickly scrambled back to his feet.
The horde roared with excitement, dispensing energy into me.
Warwick turned, his eyes bright, a snarl on his face.
“Stop wasting my time.” I lifted my chin. “So far, all talk, Farkas, and very little action.”
A sneer glinted his features, his broad shoulders twisting around to face me.
“Fine.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and ripped it over his head, tossing the fabric to the side.
Fuck.
Like when we were back in the showers, the effect his body had on me was almost debilitating. And by the smug look on his face, he knew it.
He lowered himself, clapping, his gaze set on me. “Let’s do this.”
Hunter. Prey.
I grinned fiercely back at him. With a swish, I pulled my top over my head. He stilled as I tossed the shirt next to his on the ground. The throng of viewers screamed and pounded their feet in approval.
I winked at him, owning the moment. “Only fair, right?”
“Take off your bra, then we can call it fair,” he rumbled, stepping closer to me, his gaze burning.
“Come and take it,” I dared. He wanted to fight with fire? Fine. Bring it.
A sound came up his throat, and then he was moving for me.
This time I was ready. As he charged for me, I stood in place until the last possible second.
Diving out of the way, keeping my legs out, his boots hooked on my leg, thrusting him toward the ground.
He barely hit the dirt before he was back up, his huge physique defying the law of gravity.
I jumped to my feet and continued our dance. Darting. Swiping. Dodging. For the next ten minutes, we moved around each other as though we both knew what the other would do by instinct.
The crowd grew restless, jeering as we hopped around each other.
“You’re boring your fans,” I heckled him. “And here I thought you were going to actually challenge me.”
He scoffed, his hand rubbing his chin. He grinned hungrily, then in a blink he spun, his leg swiping mine, dropping me to the ground, stirring the throng of viewers with energy.
He leaped for me. Rolling out of his way, my boots jutted out, smashing into his face.
A gasp echoed from the crowd as Warwick stumbled back, his hand going to his face.
It was as if the world paused. Everyone went silent as he wiped the blood from his nose and lip, staring down at his palm, shocked I was quick enough to strike.
His eyes rose, meeting mine.
Fury.
Wrath.
Fire lit his eyes. He’d gone easy on me before. Not anymore.
A spike of adrenaline rushed through my veins, and I popped back up to my feet. He moved with such haste I barely had time to respond. Jumping to the side, his hand crashed into my torso, slamming into my kidney. Falling sideways, I hit the ground, rolling through the dirt.
Pain chomped down on my nerves, but my adrenaline smoothed it out like a numbing gel, letting me leap back up to my feet.
He had every advantage. He was bigger, stronger, and possibly even faster.
Use your weakness as an advantage. I could hear Bakos in my ear. I was weaker, smaller, and bony . . . not easy things to use as an advantage.
Warwick darted for me, his huge frame dwarfing mine.
Smaller. Use it! Bakos yelled in my head.
Instinct dropped me to my knees, shrinking and bending my form to fit under his legs.
My fist plowed into his crotch. A roar exploded through the arena, his body toppling over, crashing to the ground clutching himself.
It wasn’t the most respectable fight move, but this was to the death.
I would use what I could. “You must also use what you don’t have to your advantage,” Bakos used to say. So I had. A punch to the dick.
Getting up, trying to find anything I could use, my gaze landed on a single lit torch hanging by the gate where I had come out.
Racing across, my legs and arms pumping, I reached out for the torch as a hand clamped down on my shoulder, yanking me back.
Crunch! My bones hit the ground, shoving air roughly out of my mouth.
Fuck. He really was similar to a wraith, sneaking up silently and quickly.
Standing over me, glaring down, he watched me, not moving to finish the job or take advantage of my position. What the hell? What fighter didn’t take advantage of an enemy’s vulnerable moment?
My lids narrowed. He could snap me in half right now. Game over. But even as the crowd chanted for my death, his gaze subtly went back up, like he was searching for something. What was he waiting for?
And what the fuck are you waiting for, Brex? Get. Up, I yelled at myself.
Confused at his lack of action, I clambered to my feet and backed away. The viewers disapproved of my escape, but my focus was entirely on Warwick, blocking out the rest of the world.
He plucked the torch from its clamp, twirling the flaming stick in his hand like a baton. “Want this?”
We stared at each other, his nose and mouth still bleeding; a gash cut across his eyebrow and over his nose.
“Come and get it, then.” He held it out enough for me to grab. Not moving, I tried to work out different scenarios in my head and predict what his move would be.
Everything felt off—like he was trying to stall. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” It sounded more like a taunt than a question. “I’m offering you a weapon against me. Even after you punched me in the nuts.” He grabbed himself, flinching as he adjusted himself. “Level out the playing field.”
“No.” Warning prickled the back of my neck. “You’re not. Now fight me. Stop playing.”
He leaned forward. “I haven’t even begun to start playing with you.”
Air sucked up my nose, and I stepped back, feigning a dash to the side, but he seemed to know exactly my move, matching it.
He started chuckling. “Try again, Kovacs.” His breath brushed down my neck. “Now, really run.”
I didn’t hesitate, I took off, once again trying to find anything to help me.
There was nothing.
“Surprise your attackers. Catch them off guard. Do something unexpected.” Bakos was back in my head.
Unexpected.
I halted, Warwick right on me, his eyes taking in my stop too late.
Swiveling around, my hand smashed into his face, knocking his head back, pain through my nerves.
No time to hesitate, my elbow stabbed the soft part of his throat.
He roaring doubled over, coughing. Taking the gain, my boot cracked across his chest, his ass hitting the ground, puffing dirt clouds around us, the torch rolling away from him, extinguishing the flame.
I could hear the masses react, but it was a faraway sound as I leaped for the torch, the end shaped into a spike.
A punch slammed into my temple, exploding behind my eyes, knocking me to the side, rolling me over him to the ground.
He dove for me, seizing my arms, pinning them to the dirt.
His body covered mine, every bit of him pressing into me.
Blood covered both of us, our panted breaths knocking our chests together.
His bare, sweaty skin pressed into me, and though he was probably about to kill me, my body reacted on its own, opening for him.
I was suddenly furious at myself, at the thrill of feeling him between my legs, at my awareness of his erection burning into me. Kicking and wiggling, I tried to break the hold, my teeth clenching with ire.
“Stop, Kovacs . . .” he muttered, his mouth so close to mine, I froze. “I’m trying not to kill you.”
What? Confusion webbed through my head. Did I hear him right? This was to the death. There was no other way out.
“What is taking so long?” he muttered, his gaze going up again, taking his attention off me.
His mistake.
Slamming my head forward, I felt and heard the crack of his already sore nose.
Blood spurted on me as he reared back with a bellow.
Wiggling from under him, I went for the torch.
Fingers circled my ankle, yanking me back, my face hitting the packed dirt with a painful crack.
Blood burst from my lip and nose, coating my tongue, dark drops hitting the ground.
Pushing through the pain, I crawled for the spike, the tips of my fingers skimming it.
My skin screamed as he dragged me away, raking me over the gravel, the weapon slipping through my fingers.
“Fuck.” Warwick rolled me over onto my back, crawling over me again, covering me like a weighted blanket, smearing blood over my torso. “You are actually making this fun. Challenging me more than I figured.”
“You think this is fun?” I snarled, trying to buck him off me. “You’re a sick fuck.”
“What does that make you then?” His nose dragged up the side of my neck, causing goosebumps to bloom over my skin.
He tipped up his head, smirking arrogantly.
“You are getting off on this too, princess. Makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?
” He clutched my thigh, tugging it up, rocking into me, kindling sparks through me.
A moan formed in my throat, my body greedy to feel more.
The energy in the arena pulsed and bled over us, heightening my emotions to the extreme.
Death. Sex. The air vibrated, twining round the raw depravity of both, the mass yearning for the primal act of either.
Feral and crude.
I lost all civility, craving him to take me right here, feeling the high of his hands wrapping around my throat, stealing the last drops of my life as he thrust into me. I even liked the idea of everyone watching. The energy pulsed through me like a drug.
I curved into him with the impulse. He sucked in, swearing under his breath, his grip on my leg digging into my skin, his eyes blazing. He felt as if he were everywhere over me, inside and out. Taking over. And I pushed the same sensation out, wanting to consume and be consumed.
“Gods. Fuck.” He jerked his head back with a hiss, making me aware of the surroundings, his eyes tracking mine. “I can feel it. Your body is crying for more.”
I bit down, locking everything down, my nose flaring, terrified of how much I wanted him, and hating the fact that he sensed my desire.
“Get off me.” I snarled, trying to wrestle out of his grip. “If you’re going to kill me, do it already. Or is this wolf all bark and no bite?”
“You want me to bite?” In a blink, his hand came around my throat.
“Like this? Is this what you want? No safe word. Want to feel the extreme? Push the line?” His thumb pressed down on my windpipe.
It was instant, the rush of blood, the tingle of desire bolting across my heart.
“Life and death. Love and hate. Such a thin line between them.”
“Kill her!” someone screamed.
He watched me, a cruel grin hinting on his mouth.
The pad of his thumb circled the skin at the base of my throat softly before pressing down hard, strangling the air from my lungs.
I jerked, the instinct to fight for life flexing my muscles.
Clawing and kicking, I tried to thrash against his hold, but I couldn’t move.
It felt like imaginary hands held me down, sliding and skimming over my skin, between my legs and over my chest.
“Blood-ing! Blood-ing!” the audience demanded, not liking his choice for my death.
He snarled, his eyes going up to the stands again.
Darkness ebbed around my eyes, slipping me further into the murky water, pulling me under. Death beckoned me to take its hand. I reached out for his bony hand, my fingertips touching his.
BOOM!
Death didn’t take me quietly into the night. No. It detonated around me, shaking the ground, heaving the earth, and plunging the world into disarray and darkness.