My knees hit the floor.
And the crowd goes wild.
I can practically smell the money being traded amongst the stands. All the people who placed their bets on K-4 cashing in. All those who bet on me probably cursing my name.
K-4 takes a step back, her gaze flicking up to the stands.
There’s your chance, I imagine Fang’s voice in my head.
Snarling, I slash at K-4’s heels. My nails feel gritty, as if I’ve ripped the tendons clean out. She drops, and I don’t hesitate to pin her down, putting all my weight down on her injured rib. Something snaps.
K-4 howls.
And then I’m pounding her head into the cement. She must be fighting back, or I wouldn’t still be attacking, but it’s hard to be certain.
Hundredth fight. Hundredth win. I’m getting the fuck out of here, no matter what it takes.
“Down on the ground!”
“Everyone, down on the fucking ground, right now!”
No-one is taking me down, I want to snarl back, but who I’d be snarling to, I have no idea.
K-4 stares up, only half-conscious, her face a bloodied mess. The sight of it makes my hands shake. I try to spell out the words—I’m sorry—when I hear those voices again.
“NCPD! Get down on the ground, or we will put you down!”
NCPD? What is that—another group of contenders?
The fluorescent lights flicker, dark shapes filtering through the stands, knocking down everything in their path. Maybe I should take some pleasure in it—seeing the audience at each other’s throats, for a change—but I don’t.
They should be looking at me. Bidding on me.
Fang! I sign desperately, wondering if he’s still watching from the cells. FANG!
The metal fence rattles open. An alpha I don’t recognize—not a rogue, and certainly not a ringleader—enters the ring. He’s as tall and strong as Fang, but with colour in his skin, and light in his amethyst eyes.
“Hey, there.” He approaches with his hands up. “You’re safe now.” Then he sneaks a look at K-4—beaten, barely conscious—and his face changes.
Like he’s realized I’m not the one who needs rescuing.
My inner omega screams at me to stand up. She doesn’t care who this guy is. He walked into the ring, which makes him a contender. Someone I need to fight, to defeat, so I can save my mate.
Those bright amethyst eyes are the last thing I see before I attack.
Chapter Three
Jaxon
"Twenty bucks it’s another false alarm.”
Caleb cuts me a glare from the driver’s seat. His hands are steady on the wheel, a perfect nine and three, like this is just a normal evening, and we aren’t heading straight into a dangerous raid.
Well, allegedly dangerous.
“Informant’s solid,” he tells me. “Maverick vouched for him.”
“Oh, well if Maverick vouched for him.”