Page 23 of Excess

There was no dancing around, no feeling each other out. Leo and Rytis immediately launched themselves at each other, furiously trading blows with an honestly embarrassing lack of finesse. Leo wasn’t usually so sloppy, but he was feeding off Rytis’s aggression, and it was making him hit first, strategize later.

“Focus!” I yelled, wincing as Leo caught a sharp jab to the ribs. Fuck my life. He was going to be a right mopey bastard on the way home. Or comatose. One or the other.

I was relieved to see Leo land a few decent hits of his own, but Rytis didn’t even flinch, not even as blood streamed directly into his eye from a reopened cut beneath his eyebrow.

The veins under Rytis’s skin had been raised in sharp relief before the fight had even begun, but they’d grown alarmingly pronounced now. His pupils were dilated, and his gaze was wild and frenetic, rather than focused or even generally aware. Nothing about Rytis’s expression changed, no matter what was happening around him.

Ronnie was ignorant or a liar, because this was a feral alpha.

As they continued to trade blows, the crowd—who’d been enthusiastically cheering every time either of them had landed a hit—were now watching in uncomfortable silence. I doubted they knew enough about feral alphas to know exactly what was wrong, but they knew it was something.

The worst part was that Rytis was too far gone for anyone to call the fight off now. His hind brain was totally in control, demanding blood. Demanding submission.

If Leo were smart, he wouldn’t antagonise Rytis any further. He’d accept a slightly embarrassing defeat, and walk out of the ring under his own steam, with all of his teeth intact.

Instead, he threw himself forwards, coming at Rytis with everything he had. But going feral gave Rytis both a strength and a stamina advantage. The longer it dragged out, the more Leo’s movements grew sluggish and sloppy. As soon as Leo found himself fully on the defensive, I knew that there was no coming back from it.

“Concede, Leo!” I yelled, knowing he wouldn’t. Not even when he was clearly struggling to lift his arms any higher than his elbows. Not even when he was obviously too slow to block in time.

Leo took a hard punch to the head, crumbling to the ground like he was made of sand.

I slammed my fist against the chain link reflexively, the noise a loud crash in the eerily quiet club.

Rytis’s head lifted, bloodshot eyes locking on me as the next target that needed eliminating, despite the team behind him on his side of the cage, urging him to take some deep breaths. Instead, Rytis started pacing, inching increasingly close to Leo’s limp form like an animal guarding its kill.

Fuck’s sake. Leo owed me for this one.

“Stupid, moronic brother,” I grumbled to myself, ignoring my own alpha instincts that demanded I engage and pushing through the still and uncomfortable crowd. No one stopped me as I jumped over the bar top and yanked the door of the small wall panel between the shelves of bottles, pulling down the lever that manually activated the sprinkler system.

It was instantly chaos. Everyone sprinted for the exits, and the rush kicked the useless alpha bouncers into gear, forcing them to safely funnel patrons up the stairs before they trampled each other. I climbed up on the slippery bar top so I could get a view of the cage where Leo was still lying unmoving in the centre. Rytis was shaking his head, flicking away the water in irritation, which was a positive sign. The water was piercing through the haze enough to annoy him, and his support team was using it to their advantage, shouting for him to leave.

“I’ll help you pull Leo out,” Landon offered, carefully climbing over the bar top with me as I jumped down.

I nodded in thanks, not having thought that far ahead. Landon was slight and Leo weighed a ton, but I’d drag my brother out of here by the ankles if I had to, and he could goddamn thank me for it tomorrow. It was his fault we were here in the first place.

“You’ll fucking pay for that, Blake!” Ronnie yelled as Landon and I passed him. “Anything that needs replacing is coming out of your pocket, Blake—you hear me?”

“Ignore him,” Landon shouted over my shoulder. “Ronnie will be fucking cooked if someone dies in the ring, and he knows it.”

“Comforting,” I snapped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean Leo. He’s fine, right? You don’t seem worried, and he’s made of tough stuff. Anyway, Ronnie is full of shit. We’ve pulled the sprinklers before for crowd control—the club will be fine.”

I didn’t particularly care either way, but it was nice of Landon to reassure me. By the time we got to the front, Rytis had already vanished from the ring, and Landon followed me in without hesitation, both of us slipping on the wet padded floor as we made our way over to Leo. It took us several attempts, down on our knees in the rapidly forming puddle, to drag Leo upright, his arms draped over our shoulders, body hanging limp between us.

“Now what?” Landon called, panting with exertion as we made it to the cage opening. I’d genuinely been considering tossing Leo on the floor and hoping for the best, so it was lucky that some of the bouncers decided to pull their fingers out of their arses and give us a hand to lift him down. Someone had shut off the water at some point, but the place was drenched and the staff were running around like headless chickens while Ronnie barked orders at them.

“You parked in your usual spot?” Landon asked. “Ronnie will cool off about the sprinklers—he knew that situation was getting out of hand—but he might not forgive you if you call an ambulance to his property. Negative attention, innit?”

“Leo would be pissed too,” I grumbled, directing the small crew of helpers to carry Leo upstairs and out into the carpark where I’d left the van. They held him for me as I cleared a bit of space in the back, throwing down some dropcloths for him to bleed on.

“Need anything else?” Landon asked, watching on as the bouncers loaded Leo into the back. My brother groaned, doing his best to squirm away from them, but clearly in no physical condition to go very far.

“No, thanks. Either he’ll be fit enough to get out of the van under his own steam, or he’s sleeping in there tonight.” I shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Landon nodded, looking apprehensive. Alphas were hard to kill though, Leo would be fine. “I’ll let you know when Ronnie cools off.”

“I’d appreciate that.” I clapped him on the shoulder before closing the back doors and making for the driver’s seat. If I had my way, we’d never see Leviathan again, but I doubted Leo would have the same takeaway from tonight. He’d probably not only want to come back to the club the moment he regained consciousness, but he’d demand a rematch with Rytis to boot.

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