Page 133 of Psycho Beasts

Two men, betas from the burned smells wafting off them, grabbed his shoulders and dragged him out of the ring.

Molly squirted some water into my mouth. She opened and closed her mouth like she wanted to ask questions, but nothing came out.

In my numb state, she didn’t seem as comforting and nice.

I didn’t bother to explain, just turned away when the bell sounded and faced my next opponent.

Chop his trachea.

I did.

His esophagus collapsed, and he fell to his knees, clawing at his throat. The alpha passed out after three minutes.

If I hadn’t known alphas were immortal, I would have thought he was dead.

Not that I cared—I didn’t.

Bored, I watched the other initiates.

Ascher easily pinned his opponent to the mat. His shirtless chest rippled impressively, and his tattoos seemed to jump off his skin. A female alpha standing beside his ring openly gaped at him.

Across the room, Cobra was twisting a man’s arm behind his back and turning it unnaturally, slowly ripping it out of its socket. The man was screaming and Cobra was laughing.

Similar to my fight, Xerxes’s opponent was passed out on his mat. The omega stared down at him dispassionately and clenched his hands like he was imagining his knives.

There was a crashing noise in the far corner. Jax easily tossed his opponent out of the ring like he weighed nothing.

Clarissa and James were faring similarly. They had their opponents restrained beneath them.

With the numb coursing through me, I could easily see what was happening.

It’s a purposeful tactic.

A trick. The first fighters were told to throw their fights to build your confidence. It’s going to get harder as it goes. You must conserve energy.

Like usual, the numb was right.

The first twenty alphas barely put up a fight.

However, the intensity of the battles slowly increased, with the opponents moving faster and throwing with more intricate skills.

By the fiftieth fight, I was covered in sweat and actually had to fight the entire time.

At the seventy-fifth fight, something shifted in the air.

The alphas had come to some sort of unspoken agreement, and they attacked with everything they had.

My current opponent was a six-foot-five male with a similar build to Ascher’s. His lean muscles rippled under golden skin that had patches of leathery green ridges.

Backflip and spring left.

I narrowly avoided the alpha’s spinning kick, which scissored out at the end for maximum impact.

Swipe out his legs.

I dropped down and swiped.

However, as his legs were kicked from beneath him, he reached forward with his hands and grabbed my ponytail.

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