Chapter 6 #3
The world started to gray at the edges. My lungs screamed for air that wouldn't come. I heard the crowd—a distant roar—and beneath it, my own heartbeat hammering in my ears.
Then a sound, so faint I almost didn't hear it. A female voice, screaming at me to fight.
The sound cut through the oxygen deprivation like a blade.
I couldn't see the cage from this angle. Couldn't see her face. But I knew it was her. Knew she was screaming at me to move, to fight. Watching the monster who would take her if I died here.
No.
I drove my thumb into the pressure point below his ear. Hard.
His grip loosened. Just for a second. Just enough.
I twisted, broke free, rolled away gasping. My throat felt crushed. Each breath was agony. But I was breathing.
I forced myself to my feet. Swayed. The world tilted and spun.
He was already standing. Not even winded. Just watching me with those dead eyes, waiting for me to fall.
We circled again.
My legs trembled with each step. My vision kept blurring at the edges. I couldn't feel my left arm anymore—just a distant numbness.
He came at me again. Methodical. Precise.
His fist caught my temple and the world exploded into light. I stumbled, and his elbow drove into my spine.
I went down to one knee.
The crowd was screaming now. Screaming for him to finish it.
He grabbed my hair. Yanked my head back. His other fist drew back, claws aimed at my exposed throat.
I caught his wrist. The one holding my hair.
Twisted hard.
He grunted, surprised, and I used his momentum against him. Pulled him forward and down, drove my elbow up into his face.
His nose crunched. Blood sprayed.
He stumbled back and I was already moving. Not thinking. Just acting on pure instinct.
I couldn't win this fight conventionally. Couldn't match his skill or his strength or his experience. Not in this condition.
But I was willing to sacrifice more than he was.
I charged. Not at him. At the arena wall.
He saw it coming. Tried to sidestep. But I caught him around the waist and kept driving forward, using every ounce of momentum I had left.
We hit the wall together. Hard.
The impact jarred every bone in my body. My broken ribs screamed. But I felt him take the worst of it—felt his spine slam into the metal mesh, felt the air drive from his lungs.
I didn't give him time to recover.
Drove my knee into his midsection. Once. Twice. Three times.
He doubled over and I caught him in a headlock, my arm wrapping around his throat from the side, my other hand locking it in place.
A guillotine choke. One of the most brutal submissions in existence.
He thrashed. Clawed at my arms. His nails tore through my pelt, drawing fresh blood, but I held on.
Squeezed.
He drove his elbow back into my ribs. The broken ones. The pain was so intense I nearly passed out.
But I thought of her. Thought of what would happen if I failed.
Squeezed harder.
His struggles grew weaker. More desperate. His movements became uncoordinated, frantic.
I felt his pulse against my forearm—hammering fast, then slowing, then fluttering.
Just a little longer. Just a little—
His body went slack.
I held the choke for ten more seconds. Making sure. Making absolutely certain.
Then I let him drop.
The horn sounded.
I stayed there on top of the Sardak's body, breathing hard, blood dripping from a dozen wounds. My chest was on fire. My ribs screamed with every breath. My vision swam in and out of focus.
But I'd won.
Then Persico's voice boomed through the arena: "We have a winner!"
The crowd exploded.
I pushed myself to my feet, swaying, my vision swimming. Every part of me hurt. The gash across my chest was deep, and blood ran down my torso in rivers.
But I'd won.
I raised my eyes, my gaze finding her in the cage above.
She was staring at me with an expression that made something in my chest tighten. Fear, yes—I saw it in every line of her body, in the way she gripped the bars like they were the only thing keeping her upright.
But beneath the fear, I saw something else.
Recognition. Understanding.
And as I watched, she did something that made my breath catch.
She straightened. Pushed her shoulders back. Lifted her chin.
The fear was still there—I saw it in her eyes, in the trembling of her hands—but she pushed it down. Buried it beneath something stronger.
Pride. Defiance. The bearing of a warrior who refused to break.
Even dressed like that. Even standing in a cage waiting to be claimed. Even terrified out of her mind.
She held her head high.
And in that moment, I knew.
This wasn't just about protecting a prize. This wasn't just about keeping her safe from the monsters who would have hurt her.
This was about her. About the strength I saw in her eyes. About the way she stood like a warrior even when the world was trying to break her. About the defiance that burned in her despite everything they'd done to strip it away.
I stood there in the center of the pit, covered in blood and dirt among the bodies of my opponents, and made her a silent promise.
No matter what it took, I wouldn't let them break her.