Page 76 of Savage Hope

WYLDER

“Wylder, I don’t recommend fighting without the tape.”

I roll my eyes at the referee beside me.

I don’t recommend needing a referee, but I keep my mouth shut. I’d much rather fight until someone passes out. Preferably not me. It’s never been me, and I’m not concerned now.

The tape isn’t going to make a difference. I like the bite of pain while it lasts, but as a wolf, it doesn’t take long for me to heal once the fighting is done. The sting inflicted with every punch I throw fuels the adrenaline coursing through my veins. It’s an electric life force, one that makes me feel alive yet grounds me all at once.

The ref clearly doesn’t understand that. I don’t mind; nobody seems to. Lincoln, Tatum, and Asher all nod eagerly along with Ref Collins’s recommendations, but they don’t fight, not like me. They don’t understand that this is what I live for; it’s what I breathe for. But it doesn’t matter if they get it or not. They don’t have to. They just have to let me be me.

“Anything else, Collins?” I ask when he doesn’t take my silence as an answer, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his ring-covered fingers.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Son,” he mutters, shaking his head and making his gray hair ruffle with the movement.

“As long as it’s the death of you and not me, I’m good. And I’m not your son,” I grunt, slapping my hand on his shoulder more harshly than necessary, but he doesn’t grimace. He’s built as broad and strong as me, but he likes to follow the rules while I…skirt them at best.

“One of these days, Wylder?—”

“I’m going to regret the decisions I make. Yada, yada, yada. I get it, Collins. You can tell me you told me so over my dead body. Damn, you can etch it into my headstone if you want. But for now, do me a favor and fuck off. I’m trying to prep.”

Thankfully, he takes the hint, stomping toward the locker room door without pause, but I don’t miss the muttering under his breath as he goes. Something about me being a godforsaken wolf with no damn brain cells, but I let it go over my head as I focus all of my attention on being ready for the real opponent I face tonight.

Dominic Turner.

He’s been making a name for himself, that’s for sure.

Not in my ring, though.

No, not in The Aurum.

Everywhere but my territory.

It’s time I brought his reign to an end.

My distaste for him grows stronger with the knowledge that he’s a vampire, but none of that matters when we step inside the ring. With our magic restricted, we’re just two men relying on our strength and power to reach victory.

The locker room door swings open, the whoosh of air coating my skin as I turn to find Minnie.

“Are you ready? Your song is starting.”

I roll my eyes again. I’ve told them a million times I don’t want a damn song playing as I make my way to the ring, but the organizers insist on running this place like the humans do. The only humans in sight are those tainted by the blood kin curse; otherwise, they have no knowledge of our existence. I’ve heard of underground fighting in the human world; this is even deeper than that. Known only by the supernaturals invited.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Lincoln grunts, launching to his feet with his finger aimed in her direction.

I knew he was going to say something the second I laid eyes on her, and any other time, I would find it amusing. Right now, though, I don’t have time for it.

“She’s wearing a dress, Linc. It’s short, but you’ve definitely seen shorter. Now back off and leave her alone,” I grumble, earning a deathly glare from my friend, who swiftly turns his attention to Asher and Tatum sitting on the benches to my left.

“Help me out, guys,” he grumbles, waving a hand blindly at his sister, but they both shrug, aware he’s looming his overbearing tendencies over her again. “Whatever,” he snaps, turning back to Minnie. “Don’t think I’m letting you out of my sight dressed like that,” he warns, and she scoffs, shaking her head dismissively.

“Please, you’re going to get out there, catch some eye candy, and leave me in the dust,” she states, her words facts. This man is always the same. She glances over his shoulder, meeting my stare, and her eyes glisten with a silent message that I instantly understand.

She’s here.

What did he call her?

Midnight.

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