Chapter 40
Violet
The bass rattles the floor, thrumming up through the soles of my boots as I cut across Eclipse Underground, the place alive in a way it’s never felt before.
Bodies are pressed tight around the ring, spectators already vying for the best spots to watch the fights.
Liquor’s flowing freely, money easily changing hands as people place their bets.
There’s a heady pulse of anticipation in the air that feels like sparks to dry kindling, and I’m just soaking it all in, reveling in the controlled chaos.
It’s perfect.
And somehow, it’s mine.
I’ve been working my ass off for the last three months to put this night together, and now all that’s left to do is ensure it all goes off without a hitch.
“Make sure the fighters for the first bout are on standby,” I call over my shoulder as I pass by a cluster of event staff lurking outside the locker rooms, barely breaking stride. “And if Bones doesn’t show in the next ten, we’re reshuffling the card.”
Heads snap in my direction, a few of them nodding in assent. No one questions me, which… still feels a little strange, honestly. It wasn’t long ago that I was taking marching orders from the staff here about how and when to get in the ring, and now, I’m the one running the show.
I just can’t fuck it up. If anything goes wrong tonight, it’s on me– so I’ve gotta do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t.
I spot Mack leaning against the bar, arms crossed as he surveys the crowd. I make a beeline for him, hoping he’ll have good news for me.
“Tell me Bones is here,” I say as soon as I reach him, a little breathless.
Mack winces at the edge in my voice, giving a tight shake of his head “Haven’t seen him yet.”
Great.
I drag a hand through my hair, choking back the panic threatening to crawl its way up my throat. “He’d better show soon, he’s on the main ticket.”
“He’s also notoriously late,” Mack says, like that’s supposed to make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
“If he’s not here in ten, I’m pulling him,” I grumble, already backing away. “I’ll have to find a replacement.”
Mack’s mouth quirks. “You could always get back in the ring, Slayter.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I laugh, tossing him a wave as I peel away from the bar.
God, it would be easier. Cleaner. No logistics, no coordination, no pressure riding on every moving piece. Just fists and instinct and the rush of it.
But that’s not who I am tonight.
I weave through the crowd, already mentally rerouting the card, trying to figure out how the hell to salvage this if Bones is a no-show.
He’s slated to go up against Reaper in his first bout since almost winning the Gauntlet– which he should really thank Kane for, since he showed up and distracted me in that first round– and there’s nobody else in our lineup who he wouldn’t wipe the floor with.
This whole night could be over before it’s even started.
I’m headed for the entrance to tell the bouncer to alert me the second Bones shows when I feel it– that familiar pull along the bond tugging at my chest, an instinctive awareness prickling through me. Then Kane steps inside, and his dark-eyed gaze finds me instantly.
I stop in my tracks, pulse taking off like a rocket.
His brother enters behind him, and the two of them advance in my direction, cutting through the crowd like they own it and drawing attention to themselves without even trying.
Conversations dip. Bodies shift aside. It’s subtle, but it’s always there– that ripple of awareness that follows the Commander everywhere.
“Who let you in here?” I call as they draw closer, planting my hands on my hips and arching a brow.
Kane’s mouth curves in a rare smile– the kind he reserves just for me. “As if I’d miss your first big fight night,” he scoffs, grabbing me by the waist and reeling me in.
I go willingly, lifting my chin so he can smack a kiss on my lips. It’s quick, but it’s also just enough to ground me, his proximity alone cutting through the noise in my head and the edge of nerves that’s been riding me all night.
“Thank you for coming,” I whisper, a blush rising to my cheeks despite myself.
He holds my gaze, nodding once like it was never even a question. “Of course.”
Whit clears his throat loudly, and I glance past Kane, lifting my chin in acknowledgement. “Whit.”
He grins like he’s been waiting for it, shouldering Kane aside and wrapping me up in a hug. “Good to see you again, sis.”
“You’re getting real comfortable with that,” I snort.
“We’re family now,” he shoots back easily as he releases me, stepping back.
Kane slides right back in, his hand settling at the small of my back, solid and warm. “How’s it going?” he asks, eyes flicking over my face. “You look stressed.”
“One of my main fighters hasn’t shown,” I say, already feeling the tension creep back in. “I’m about five minutes away from panic mode.”
He tilts his head, considering. “Want me to send out enforcers to track him down?”
“Are you trying to get me fired before I’ve even officially settled into this job?” I deadpan.
Whit huffs a laugh, clapping a hand on Kane’s shoulder. “Yeah, maybe don’t unleash the Commander on her first night running things.”
“I’m just offering solutions,” he replies mildly.
“Terrible ones,” I say, giving him a pointed look.
Kane shrugs, his mind probably already working up a dozen different solutions. His first instinct is always to fix things, but this isn’t his problem to solve. It’s mine.
“I’m grabbing a drink before this turns into a full operational takeover,” Whit mutters, jerking his chin toward the bar before disappearing into the crowd.
Kane watches him go, then swings his gaze around the room, taking everything in. “Hell of a turnout.”
“Funny how that happens when you can actually advertise,” I say with a chuckle. “Turns out people are more apt to show up if they aren’t afraid of getting hauled in front of Alpha for illegal activity.”
His gaze flicks back to me, a smile tugging at his lips.
“You here on official business, Commander?” I ask, tipping my head. “Making sure everything’s above board?”
“Not tonight,” he drawls, his gaze raking over me. “I’m here for you, mate.”
My inner wolf swoons, the bond between us thrumming with warmth.
“Good answer,” I say as I lean in, brushing another quick kiss over his mouth.
His eyes shift past me as I pull back, and his expression twists, brows creasing.
“Uh oh,” he murmurs.
I turn to follow his gaze, spotting his brother posted up at the bar, already making a pass at a pretty blonde.
A pretty blonde who just so happens to be my best friend.
“Oh, this should be good,” I snort, grabbing Kane’s hand and dragging him through the crowd in their direction.
Neither of them even see us coming. Char’s batting her lashes, tossing her hair, giggling like an idiot… and Whit’s just as locked in on her.
“Careful, that one’s trouble,” I remark as I sidle up next to Char.
She and Whit turn toward me at the same time, both presuming I’m talking to them. Though I suppose the warning does cut both ways in this situation.
“Char’s my best friend,” I tell Whit, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
His brows lift, grin widening.
I lean in closer to Char, murmuring in her ear, “I see you’ve met Kane’s brother.”
Her mouth drops open on a dramatic gasp, eyes bouncing between the two of them. “Wait, what?!” she exclaims, clapping a hand to her chest. “You’re the mysterious brother?”
Whit shrugs a shoulder, lips curving in a lazy grin. “My reputation precedes me, apparently.”
Char blushes furiously, grinning like a fool as he leans an elbow on the bar and angles closer.
“You’re not a rebel like Violet, are you?” he asks.
My pulse skips, eyes darting toward Kane.
He doesn’t react, of course. The man’s poker face is infallible.
“Of course not,” Char laughs, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s standing across from Rogue himself. “I’m the good influence.”
“Yeah, right,” I laugh, unable to help myself.
She cuts me a glare, but the bartender interrupts before she can respond.
“Hey, Vi, Jeff needs you in his office,” he calls from the other end of the bar.
I nod, snapping back into business mode and squeezing Kane’s hand once before letting go. “Try to keep that under control,” I tell him, flicking a pointed glance between Whit and Char.
“No promises,” he chuckles.
I roll my eyes and turn away, threading my way through the crowd toward the back of the room.
I push into the owner’s office without knocking, finding Jeff seated behind his desk, tension etched into every line of his face.
Noah, the club manager, stands off to the side, his arms crossed and jaw tight.
Not good.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, cutting straight to it.
Jeff exhales heavily, dragging a hand over his face. “Bones is out.”
My stomach drops. “Out?”
“He called, said something came up,” Noah chimes in. “Probably just got spooked since Reaper beat him last time.”
I whirl on him. “Ten minutes before we’re supposed to start?”
He sucks in a breath through his teeth, grimacing. “Think we can stall for a half hour while we figure out how the hell to salvage this?”
I stare back at him blankly, already feeling the night tilt.
First official event, full crowd, main ticket blown to hell before we even start…
No.
Not happening.
“We’re not stalling,” I snap.
Noah blinks. “We have to–”
“We’re not,” I repeat, folding my arms. “We stall, we look unprepared. This is the first night we’re operating clean and public, it’ll set the tone for every one going forward. It has to go off without a hitch.”
Jeff studies me from behind his desk, steepling his fingers. “Then what’s the move, Slayter?”
I step closer, bending forward and bracing my palms against his desk, mind already snapping pieces into place. “We don’t patch the hole,” I say. “We make them forget there ever was one. Put Reaper up against a surprise opponent that’ll rile the crowd even more.”
Jeff frowns. “Who?”
I hold his gaze, then smile. “Me.”