Page 31 of The Devil's Dream

This was my domain, and the only way he was leaving was on a stretcher.

The emcee called through the speakers for us to get our asses to the center.

Mad Dog towered over me by a few inches, but I wasn't worried.You know what they say: the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

“Clean fight,” echoed around the room, and there was a shared chuckle from all in attendance.

Everyone knew it was bullshit.

There was only one rule at The Pit—the last man standing wins.

When the bell rang, Mad Dog charged at me like a bull. What a fucking dumbass. He was telegraphing all his moves.

Well, alright, motherfucker. Olé.

I pivoted, letting him crash into the cage behind me. The crowd roared as I landed two quick jabs to his kidney.

He spun, swinging wildly, but I was already dancing away.

“That all you got?” I taunted, keeping light on my feet.

“You’re a dead man,” he snarled, coming at me again.

This time, when he swung those big fucking paws, his fist clipped my jaw, and the impact rattled my teeth.

I grinned, tasting my own blood when I swiped my tongue across my gums.

Looked liked the pound puppy was good and fucking pissed now.

Now we were talking.

Mad Dog came at me again, but I blocked his next punch and countered with an uppercut that snapped his head back.

“Come on, pup. School’s in fucking session.” If there was one thing I was good at, it was getting into my opponent’s head.

Again, he came at me, head down ready to bulldoze me over. I landed a knee to his nose, stunning him long enough to send a brutal kick to his thigh.

The sound was deep, hollow. It fucking hurt, I was sure of it.

Mad Dog stumbled but didn’t go down, and color me impressed. I didn’t think the big fucker had that much fight in him, but it looked like I was wrong.

“Finish him!” someone shouted from the crowd.

From either the drugs or adrenaline, Mad Dog recovered fast, catching me with a hook that had stars dancing in my vision. He followed with a knee to my ribs that knocked the wind from my lungs.

“Kane!” Nova screamed, her voice carrying over the jeers.

There was no way I was going to lose this fight with my girl out in the crowd.

Fuck that.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I blocked his next strike and countered with a combination—jab, cross, hook. Each one landed solid, making Mad Dog stagger back, blood streaming from his nose.

The bell rang, ending the first round.

I staggered over to my corner, where Dragon was waiting with a bottle of water. I took it before dropping onto the stool for him to check my ribs.

“He's strong but sloppy,” Dragon said. “Use it against him.”

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