Page 46 of Creatures of Chaos

His head snaps back, and before he can recover I slam my foot into his groin. It isn’t a sanctioned kickboxing move, but the douche deserved it.

Kiaro keels over, red faced and cupping his crotch. I give him the same double tap I gave Jules, one punch to the temple followed by another to the chin, and he’s out for the count.

I stand over him, my breathing ragged as much from the match as it is from the desire to give this guy another kick to the nuts, but I manage to restrain myself.

The crowd is going crazy, and I look up to catch Becks’ eye. He’s calmed enough that no one is holding him back anymore, but his chest is heaving, and his hair is standing up every which way. There’s a wild spark in his eyes that makes him look unfamiliar to me in that moment. He blinks and his eyes go slitted like they are in his dragon form, and then another blink and they’re back to normal.

I may be physically okay, but Becks doesn’t look like he’s doing all that well mentally.

Forcing my gaze away from Becks, I trudge toward the cage door, which opens for me when I near. Some guys who I assume are friends of Kiaro brush past me to grab him and haul him from the cage. I don’t linger, and wearily walk back to the locker rooms, realizing that I won’t be able to stop fighting until I either win this whole thing or end up like Kiaro or Jules, knocked out cold and lying on the bloodied concrete.

More matches happen over the next hour, and I listen to the roar of the crowd and the winners being announced with detachment, just trying to keep myself in the same headspace. Jules wins her next match, which probably saves her from elimination, but means she doesn’t have to fight again becauseher loss to me took her out of the running for overall winner. I’m a little envious she doesn’t have to fight anymore. I’m exhausted.

I get looks from my fellow competitors who are still in the competition, but I can’t interpret what they mean. Perhaps they’re simply confused why I’m still here. I’m easily the smallest one left.

The next and last round of fights start, and as I wait for my name to be called, the aches and pains and stiffness from the first two rounds start settling in my joints. They’re holding only one match at a time now, and slowly the room empties until it’s just me and another guy, a white-haired teal-eyed fae named Titus who isn’t exactly friendly but hasn’t been openly hostile either, so that makes him cool in my book. He has a cut on his forehead from his last match that won’t stop weeping blood, but honestly it makes him look intimidating, so the look could work for him.

The game master’s voice booms beyond the closed door as he starts to announce the next match. Talon’s name is announced, and the crowd starts cheering. I straighten, waiting to hear who he’s paired against. There aren’t many of us left. My heart jumps to my throat when my name rings out across the warehouse.

I walk woodenly toward the door, each step heavier than the last.

“He’s going to favor his left ribs,” Titus says, startling me.

I glance over at him with my hand on the doorknob, my gaze catching on part of his tattoo that winds over his shoulder from his back. From the quick look I got at it earlier the image that spans his entire back is of a tree with twisting vines and flowers. It’s so large that parts of the design curl over his shoulder and onto the tops of his arms.

“I caught the end of his last match up,” he says, drawing my attention back to his bright eyes. “He took a hit pretty hard. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I say, and then push through the door to find Talon hanging back, waiting for me, and I catch a faint bruise on his left ribs just where Titus said it would be.

Talon is tall and muscular. Not in the same way Becks is, but something tells me he’s just as powerful, with or without magic. A ball of lead settles in my gut. I don’t want to fight him, and not just because he’ll probably beat me. There are other more nebulous reasons too that I don’t have the headspace to examine right now.

“It’s me and you, Freckles,” he says, and I lift my gaze to catch the grim look on his face. “Any chance I can convince you to fake a knockout, so I don’t have to do it for real?”

I purse my lips before saying, “No. But I’d be willing to let you fake one, so I don’t have to damage your pretty face.”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest and we start toward the game master, both of us doing our best to ignore the chaos around us.

“I’m impressed,” he says. When we reach the cage, the game master is droning on about how the winner of our match will move on to the final battle.

“Impressed that I made it this far because I’m just a small girl?”And magicless, I think but don’t say.

He shakes his head, his blue-gray eyes never leaving mine. “No. I’m just impressed.”

Unwantedly, warmth sparks in my chest. How is it that out of everyone in my life it’s Talon, a relative stranger, who makes me think I don’t need magic to be powerful? That I’m enough all on my own.

The cage door swings open and Talon gestures for me to go in before him, his movements almost gentlemanly. When I step into the cage I do what I’ve done the last two battles—I look for Becks—but when I spot him he isn’t looking at me, he’s glaring at Talon like he wants to gut him.

Talon takes a moment to scan the crowd as well, and as if feeling the heat from Becks’ stare the two lock eyes. Becks’ mouth doesn’t form any words, but his eyes are telling Talon that if he hurts me he’s going to pay. Talon’s gaze narrows and his mouth flattens into a thin line, breaking eye contact with my best friend. His gaze lands on me just as the ten second countdown begins, and they soften.

The buzzer sounds and we both drop into defensive positions, but neither one of us moves. After several seconds tick by and nothing happens, boos start from the spectators, who are expecting a bigger show.

I should be watching Talon’s body for telltale signs he’s about to attack, but instead our eyes are locked.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the crowd starts to chant, and individual voices filter through the noise as well.

“Take her out!”

“Don’t just stand there, do something!”

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