Chapter 40 #2
His eyes narrow, brow furrowing. “But you’re supposed to be running the night.”
“I am,” I reply, straightening. “You put me in that ring, you don’t lose your main event. You upgrade it by giving them something they’ll wanna watch even more. A rematch of the Gauntlet.”
“How’d I know you wouldn’t be able to stand on the sidelines?” Noah mumbles, chuckling under his breath.
I roll my eyes, waving him off. “This is purely out of necessity.”
Jeff studies me for a moment, still considering. “You sure about this?”
I nod without hesitation. “Absolutely.”
“Fine,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “The Slay is in.”
A ripple of excitement runs through me. Not because I’m getting another shot at Reaper after the mess of the Gauntlet– though I can’t deny I’ve been aching for a chance at redemption– but because I’ve worked my ass off to make this fight night a success.
Everyone’s here for a show worth watching, and with me in the ring, it’s sure to be one they’ll never forget.
“No getting distracted by your mate this time,” Noah teases, wagging a finger at me.
“Don’t worry about him,” I cluck, turning on a heel. “I’ll just kick him out if I have to.”
“Good luck with that,” Jeff snorts.
I flip him the bird– teasingly, of course, since he’s my boss– then leave the office, heading back out onto the main floor.
Kane’s eyes find me immediately from across the room, tracking my path back to the bar. Dread curls in my gut with every step as I close the distance, bracing myself for the inevitable confrontation that’s about to go down.
“What happened?” he asks as soon as I’m within earshot, worry creasing his brow.
I’ve really gotta ask him for tips on my own poker face.
“Bones bailed,” I mutter, squaring my shoulders as I come to a stop in front of him. “I’m taking his place in the main event.”
Kane’s mouth twitches. “Against Reaper?”
I fold my arms, dipping my chin in a nod.
I expect him to push back– to offer alternative solutions, to try to talk me out of getting in the ring– but he doesn’t. Instead, he just nods back at me, like he somehow already predicted this exact outcome and mentally prepared for it.
“Then you’d better win this time,” he murmurs, the corner of his lips quirking into what looks suspiciously like a smirk.
I squint at him, searching for the catch. “You’re not gonna lecture me about throwing myself into dangerous situations?”
“I’ve seen you fight,” he says simply. “I know you can handle yourself.”
I tilt my head, cocking a brow. “And you’re not gonna threaten to bash his face in for touching me?”
“Well, if he throws any cheap shots, I’ve got plenty of creative ways to make his life hell tomorrow,” Kane replies with a shrug, as if siccing pack enforcers on someone for personal vendettas is a totally normal suggestion.
“But tonight, I’m here to support you, however that looks.
” He hooks an arm around my waist, drawing me against his chest in one smooth motion. “Whatever you need, mate.”
Ugh.
It’s not just my wolf swooning this time– I’m right there with her, my stomach doing a full flip as my heart beats a riot in my chest.
God, I love this man.
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him hard, showing him exactly how much it means to me to have his support. He kisses me back just as fiercely, his tongue tangling with mine, the bond between us burning bright.
“Thank you,” I say breathlessly as I pull back, his hands warm and steady on my waist.
He grins, dark eyes brimming with pride. “Give him hell, baby.”
“Slay! Slay! Slay!”
The chant rolls through the crowd like a wave as the ref signals that the second round is about to start, echoing off the walls and bouncing from the rafters.
I roll my shoulders as I step into the center, eyes scanning the crowd before landing on Kane.
He’s front and center, watching me like I’m the only thing in the room, the bond humming low and steady beneath my skin.
There’s something comforting about its constant presence; a grounding force that has me more focused than ever before.
Reaper takes his place across from me, swiping a forearm across his still-bleeding nose.
I landed a clean hit at the end of the first round, drawing first blood to a chorus of fanfare.
The crowd’s now firmly on my side, and if the look in Reaper’s eyes is anything to go by, he’s pissed off about it.
Which is why the moment the bell dings, he comes in fast.
I let him, already anticipating his approach and giving a little ground. I let him throw, let him push, let him think he’s got control of the rhythm while I stay light on my feet, dodging blows. I clock his every move, just waiting for my opening.
He switches his lead foot, swinging wide.
There.
I step inside the arc of it, driving a sharp strike into his ribs with my knee– precise, controlled, and just enough to knock the breath out of him. He grunts, stumbling half a step, and the crowd roars their appreciation.
Reaper recovers quicker than I expect, coming at me again. But he’s angrier this time. Sloppier.
Good.
His fist snaps out, but I slip the hit, pivoting and bringing my elbow up hard into the side of his head. He drops to one knee, and I step back, giving him a chance to push up and shake it off, drawing it out for the spectacle.
“Done yet?” I taunt, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
Reaper lunges at me with a snarl, and I meet him head-on this time, the two of us trading blows while the audience loses their minds. Then he goes to kick me in the flank, and I catch him by the calf, sweeping his other foot out from underneath him and sending him sprawling backwards onto the mat.
He lands hard, and I’m on him in an instant, my knees digging into the meat of his thighs and my forearm pressed tight against his throat.
My weight’s not enough to hold him on its own, but my positioning is everything.
I press down harder on his throat, restricting his air.
He claws at my arm, forgetting to protect his face, and I land another hard hit to his nose, bone crunching beneath my fist.
It doesn’t take long after that. I get a couple more hits in, then Reaper’s hand darts out, tapping against the mat. The ref declares me the winner, grabbing me by the hand and hauling me to my feet while the crowd goes wild.
Hundreds of eyes are on me, but there’s only one pair I see. Dark, intense, and smoldering with the kind of heat that threatens to set me ablaze.
The noise is still crashing around me when I climb down from the ring, adrenaline humming under my skin.
Kane’s at my side immediately, his hand closing around my elbow to guide me out of the main flow of bodies.
He steers me straight for the locker room, pushing inside and letting the door swing closed behind us, sealing us away from the chaos and prying eyes.
“Show-off,” he murmurs, spinning me around and pushing me up against the door.
I laugh, still a little breathless. “Had to save my own event.”
“You didn’t save it,” he says as his gaze drags over me, slow and thorough, checking for damage.
I lift a brow. “No?”
His eyes ping back up to mine, hand sliding to my waist and pulling me in. “You owned it.”
My pulse skips, breath catching. I brace my palms against his chest, gazing up at him. “You gonna report me, Commander?”
He tilts his head, lips curving in a grin. “Nah, I think I’ll let this one slide.”
Kane leans in to kiss me, and for once in my life, everything feels like it’s finally fallen into place. Like this is the way things were always meant to wind up, and I was just the last to know.
Whether it was fate or fury that got us here, I’m glad we fought our way through.
That now we’re not fighting against each other, but beside one another.
Because we’re better together.