Page 33 of Tempest Rising

The tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Mason's hands balled into fists, and for a moment, I thought he might come at me again. But then something shifted in his expression—a crack in the armor he'd built around himself. He exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with resignation.

"You don't get it, do you?" His voice was raw, edged with years of pain and carefully controlled rage. There was something else there too—not hope, but obligation. The weight of responsibility that went beyond just survival. "It's not just me. They've got my sister, Kali. And if I stop fighting, she's done."

I kept my expression neutral, but inside, anger churned like acid in my gut. A glance at the mark on Mason's chest ignited a fury I thought I had buried long ago. It was so similar to the one used on my mother—an indelible reminder of the power someone else held over her.

"I can't stand seeing people like you trapped in this hellhole," I said carefully, measuring each word. "But I also know trust isn't easy in here. You don't need to believe me yet—I'm not asking for that. What I'm offering... is information. Maybe I can help you. Maybe you don't have to fight for them anymore."

Mason's eyes narrowed, suspicion radiating off him in waves. He leaned forward slightly, a growl rumbling in his throat, his fists still clenched tight, but now with an almost involuntary twitch of someone caught between desperation and defiance.

"Why would someone like you risk anything for a guy like me?" His words were a mixture of suspicion and something deeper—an accusation, like he'd been burned before and didn’t trust anyone, least of all me.

I stood my ground. Mason's eyes flickered with desperation, a wild glint that told me he had been backed into a corner, with nothing left but a fierce protectiveness for what remained. I could feel the weight of my own past pressing against me. Memories of my mother’s punishment clawed at my insides, igniting a fire that burned hot and bright.

With a deep breath, I embraced the heat, letting it course through my veins. I envisioned the crumbling foundation of a system that had ensnared so many, dreaming of its collapse beneath my hands. I would not let another soul suffer as she had. Each heartbeat thrummed with purpose; my fury would find a target.

"Let’s say I’ve got my own reasons," I replied, keeping my tone level but letting a bit of truth slip through in my gaze.

Mason’s guarded expression didn’t falter significantly, but I noted the doubt creeping into his features. A silence hung between us, thick and heavy. Finally, the gargoyle-shifter seemed to relent, though his words were hard.

“Information? Then start by telling me what you think you know.”

I didn’t flinch. "I've heard the name Lady Seralina thrown around. She has her claws in this place, doesn’t she?"

Mason's gaze snapped to mine, a flicker of recognition igniting in his eyes. It was a split-second reaction, but I could see the way the gears began turning in his mind, processing the implications of what I had just said.

"Seralina runs the show here,” he confirmed, his voice low but urgent. “She’s a regular VIP at the fights and has her fingers in every dirty deal you can think of. You want out of this mess? You’d have to go through her first.”

He looked away, a shadow passing over his face that hinted at thoughts he'd been wrestling with for a while. His stone-hard exterior was starting to crack, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to press harder without pushing him away.

His voice was softer, though still laced with bitterness. "Even if I wanted to believe you... it’s not just Seralina. It’s the people who back her, who run the underground. She's got ties to the Riders’ Guild and gods-know who else. You don't just walk away from this. There’s no out... especially not for me."

He was partially right. Walking away from the underground, from people like Lady Seralina, was near impossible. That world was a black hole. You could fight to the edge, but you’d still get sucked back in eventually. The trick wasn't just getting free. The trick was making everyone involved believe it wasn’t worth chasing you down.

Or burying them so deep that they couldn't chase you even if they wanted to.

I leaned forward, planting my hands on my knees, making sure our eyes stayed level. Mason was a massive guy—towering and intimidating—but right now, I needed him to see the resolve in me didn’t shrink next to his size.

“There’s always an out, Mason. Always."

He shook his head, dismissing me before I could even finish. His eyes darkened with frustration, with the weight of years spent shackled by invisible chains.

I kept pressing. “I know you think you're stuck. I know you've been told there's no escape, that you’re a slave to the system Seralina controls. But I’m telling you—we can carve a way out.”

This time, there was a flicker in his expression. Hesitation, maybe. It was small. But it was there.

“You asking me to believe in some pipe dream?” His voice held that bitter edge again, yet beneath it was something shakier. Wearier. “I’ve seen what happens to the guys who try to walk away. Believe me, there ain't enough pieces left of them to bury.”

“I’m not talking about taking a stand," I said, voice low, measured, "I’m talking about disappearing altogether.” I paused, letting that sink in. "It’s not about rising up or tearing the system apart, Mason. At least not yet. Right now, it’s about slipping out before it drags us down with it.”

The laugh that escaped him was humorless, almost sad. "You’re crazier than I thought, fighter.”

I shrugged, taking that as a compliment. "Maybe. But at least I’m not lying down while they trample all over me. And you don’t have to either."

He regarded me for a beat, scanning my face like he was searching for answers I wasn’t sure he’d ever get. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers unclenched. His shoulders dropped, showing the first signs of something loosening in him—if only slightly.

“You’d seriously risk it though?” His voice was softer now, questioning. Disbelief still threaded through his words but so did a tinge of wonder. “For what? You barely know me.”

I didn’t blink. “No one should have to live like this. And no one should have to fight alone.”

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