Page 31 of Witch's Promise

But the fight wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

As the wolf circled, preparing for another lunge, Sean's hand moved to his sleeve. His fingers closed around cool metal, a reassuring weight. The silver throwing knives were his ace in the hole, a last resort he'd hoped he wouldn't need to use.

So much for fighting fair.

The wolf charged. Sean moved.

He launched himself into the air, his body twisting in a somersault that would have made his old gymnastics coach proud. At the apex of his jump, Sean's arm snapped out, sending the silver blade spinning towards its target.

Time seemed to slow again as Sean watched the knife's arc. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought he'd miscalculated, that the blade would miss its mark. But then he heard it, the sickening thud of metal meeting flesh, followed by a howl of pain that made his blood run cold.

Sean hit the ground hard, his body protesting the impact. But he couldn't afford to rest, not yet. He scrambled to his feet,ignoring the screaming pain in his ribs, and turned to face his opponent.

The wolf was down, thrashing on the mat as the silver did its work. Sean moved quickly, pinning the massive beast with a hold that would have made his jiu-jitsu instructor beam with pride. He could feel the wolf's form shifting beneath him, fur receding as the man reasserted control.

"Stay down," Sean growled, tightening his hold. "It's over."

The referee's whistle cut through the chaos, signaling the end of the fight. Sean held on for a moment longer, making sure the Vargr was fully back in human form before releasing his grip.

As Sean staggered to his feet, the announcer's voice boomed through the arena. "Winner by submission, Ghost!"

The crowd erupted, a wall of sound that threatened to knock Sean off his already unsteady feet. He raised a fist in acknowledgment, playing his part in this fucked up circus. His eyes sought out the Elder, finding the old man standing at the edge of the cage. The Elder gave a single, approving nod.

Sean felt a surge of something. Pride? Disgust? He wasn't sure anymore. He'd won, sure. But at what cost?

The adrenaline was fading now, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness and a catalog of injuries that Sean was in no hurry to fully assess. He needed air, needed to get out of this cage, away from the blood and the noise and the suffocating weight of violence.

Sean stumbled out of the arena, ignoring the back-slaps and congratulations from the other fighters. His feet carried him on autopilot, out of the building and into the cool night air of the alley behind the club.

The contrast was jarring. One moment, surrounded by the chaos and noise of the fight, the next, alone in the relative quiet of the alley. Sean's legs gave out, and he slumped againstthe brick wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the grimy pavement.

Fuck, everything hurt. His left eye was completely swollen shut now, and he could feel blood trickling from a dozen different cuts. His ribs screamed with every breath, and his right hand was already turning an impressive shade of purple.

Sean closed his good eye, letting his head fall back against the wall. He was dimly aware that he should probably get up, should find Katelyn or drag himself to a hospital. But moving seemed like too much effort right now. Maybe if he just sat here for a minute, everything would stop hurting so damn much.

"Are you okay?"

The voice cut through the fog of pain and exhaustion, jolting Sean back to awareness. His eye snapped open, his body tensing despite the protest from his battered muscles.

And there, backlit by the flickering streetlight at the mouth of the alley, was a ghost from Sean's past. A ghost with messy dark hair and concerned blue eyes that Sean would recognize anywhere.

Gabe.

For a moment, Sean was sure he was hallucinating. Maybe he'd taken one too many hits to the head. Because there was no way Gabe was standing in this shitty alley, looking at Sean like he was something worth worrying about.

"Ghost! Get your ass back in here. The Elder wants to see you."

Sean's head snapped around, catching sight of Brick's massive form filling the doorway back into the club. Shit. The Elder didn't like to be kept waiting.

When Sean looked back, Gabe was gone. The mouth of the alley was empty, no sign that anyone had been there at all.

Great. Now he was definitely hallucinating.

With a groan that was equal parts pain and frustration, Sean hauled himself to his feet. Whatever the fuck had just happened – hallucination, ghost, or cruel trick of fate – he couldn't deal with it now. The Elder was waiting, and Sean owed the old man too much to blow him off.

As he raised his hand to knock on the door, Sean allowed himself one last thought of Gabe. Of blue eyes and messy hair and a smile that had once meant home.

Then he locked it away, deep in the part of his heart where he kept all the things he couldn't afford to want. All the happiness he didn't deserve.

---