Page 65 of Filthy Beginnings

His arms refused to follow his command. Leaden, they hung by his sides.

Panic slammed through him. Not for himself, but for Scarlett. He had to win.

Crash.

A fist slammed into his jaw.

He spun sideways. Flesh sizzled as he bounced off the laser bars of the cage.

The crowd went wild, sensing blood in the air.

But he only heard one scream. “Damien!”

Eyes bouncing wildly, he followed the sound, his gaze colliding with Scarlett’s.

He fucking hated that she was standing with those Alphaholes, some vaguely familiar-looking bastard’s arm around her shoulder, her face so sad.

He would rip that fucker’s arm from his body.

Pow.Another fist crashed into him, severing his view of Scarlett and sending him stumbling in the other direction.

“Fuck, Damien.” Crex shoved him out of the way just before the final lights-out punch came. “Get those fucking hands up. At least try to dodge.” He flicked his tail and whipped the other fighter across the face—giving Kuril a new target for his fury.

Damien wanted to protest, but he couldn’t make his limbs or mouth move right.

He stumbled toward the now grappling Crex and Kuril Alpha. Took a swing.Missed.

Laughter echoed around him. Boos, too.

He was failing her.

He struggled to stay upright—and watched in horror as the Kuril Alpha looked over to where N’gal Verish stood, nodded once, and then clapped his hands around Crex’s temples and twisted.

“No!” Damien tried to make his limbs move faster.

Crack.

His friend dropped to the mat, his head twisted at an odd angle, that lopsided smile gone, his eyes empty.

“No.” Agony ripped through Damien.

He launched himself at the other fighter, a rush of adrenaline providing a spurt of clarity and control, enabling him to sink his claws into the bastard’s throat and yank out his voice box—and his ability to breathe.

Crex’s killer dropped to the ground, his face twisted in agony.

Another fighter out. But too late for his friend.

He’d fucking failed Crex.

He stumbled once more and tried to think past his grief.

The Kuril Alpha had killed Crex at N’gal Verish’s request, but how the hells did that relate to what was wrong with him?

Drugged.

The realization hit as Stormhart’s fist slammed into him—bringing a flash of clarity.

Someone had drugged him.

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