Page 64 of Filthy Beginnings

And after he won, he would never put her at risk again. From here on out, he’d treat her like a queen. Worship at her feet. Hells, he’d let her tie him up, just as promised.

Life was going to be so good.

He swayed on his feet.

The warning bell rang.

He took another quick drink for luck and reentered the ring—and had to blink twice when he noticed Crex was back by his side.

“What are you doing back?” They’d both agreed he’d tap out right before the final round.

Crex’s lopsided smile was unrepentant. “You watched my back. Only fair that I watch yours.”

“No, that’s… stupid.” Damien’s tongue was strangely heavy in his mouth. “You… need to go. It’s too dangerous.” He jerked his chin toward the exit. A strange wave of dizziness rolled through him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Crex gave him an odd look.

Shit. He must be tired. Or he’d gotten hit harder than he’d realized in the last round?

“Damien?” Somehow Crex had snuck up on him and gotten right in his face.

He shoved the guy back. “You should… go. Too much risk.”

“Which means more reward.” Crex clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I got you.”

Damien shook his head and widened his stance, willing himself to focus.

A swell of music sounded, and Damien’s nostrils flared, his heart slamming against his ribs.

Scarlett was near.

“With the final round set to begin”—the announcer shouted to be heard over the screams of the crowd, his voice echoing through the arena—“we wanted to remind those left of just what they are fighting for.” Gold coins flashed on every vid screen. “Money beyond their wildest dreams.” A drum roll gained in volume. “Fame.” The screen shifted to an image of a past fighter being carried on the shoulders of an adoring crowd. “And, of course, a prize any Alpha would kill to have.”

Scarlett’s beautiful face appeared on the screen.

Damien’s fangs punched through his gums. She looked so fucking scared—and sad.

He followed the vid maker’s line of sight until he found her. Closer than he would have expected. She was being lead into a VIP section right near the announcer’s table, crowded in with a wall of Alpha consortium higher-ups and Brotherhood investors, including N’gal Verish, Andor Stormhart, and a whole lot of other pompous looking fuckers Damien despised on sight.

His nostrils flared. There was nothing about Scarlett’s proximity to those Alphaholes that he liked.

The bell sounded.

The crowd erupted.

The hulking Kuril Alpha came at Damien so fast he almost missed it. Tearing his stare from Scarlett, he managed to jumped out of the way—and shoved the bastard straight into the laser bars.

Then, almost faceplanted into one himself as another wave of dizziness hit.

He staggered back a few steps.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Crex take out another fighter. Two others went down, care of the Kuril Alpha. Then one more, thanks to Stormhart.

By some miracle, there were now only four left in the ring and he hadn’t lifted a fist to make it happen. He couldn’t.

But the next time the Kuril Alpha came at him, Damien wasn’t so lucky.

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