Sure, and I’ll tell him how badly you’ve been pining away, I thought. Apparently, nobody at this prison acknowledged their feelings. I wasn’t the only one.
Kallie and Marcus came back at that point, and the current fight ended, leading up to the brawl before the night’s main event. Two angels swung themselves into the ring. They danced around each other before they faced off, taking swings and kicks.
I watched the fight with a fresh bout of nervousness. I just wished they’d hurry up. Charlie was up next. The two angels were really well matched. Neither of them could land a good hit, and I wasn’t sure which would fall the other.
Then, one of the angels swung out his fist, and it sent the other guy reeling. He swung back his fists, pummeling his challenger over and over.
The crowd moaned as the angel delivered a particularly brutal hit. I swear I heard the guy’s skull crack as the angel’s fist collided with his face. Instantly, he dropped to the floor. My throat seized up as I realized that he wasn’t moving.
Or breathing.
An official ran forward. He knelt down and placed his fingers against the guy’s neck, feeling for a pulse. He looked up at the referee and shook his head.
“Take him out back,” the referee said. A couple of guards dragged the limp corpse out of the arena, while the other angel’s fist raised to a roaring crowd.
I felt ice run through my veins as my blood went cold and all color drained from my face. That guy haddiedright in front of us. The fight club hadkilledhim.
This was barbaric. It wasn’t a sport. There weren’t any rules— anything was on the table, including murder, and these guards didn’t care, so long as they got their entertainment. And we, the students, were disposable.
My whole body began to shake. All I could think of was finding Charlie and dragging him out of here. In moments, Chancey was back, his hands out in front of him like he wanted to calm me down.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded, throwing my hand at the ring. “The guards let peoplediehere?”
Chancey grimaced. “It doesn’t happen often—”
“Often?!” I shrieked.
“Just hold tight, Ava. Charlie’s quick. He’ll end the fight before you know it.”
Chancey trying to talk me off the ledge wasn’t doing any good. But before I could act, I saw Charlie walking toward the arena, flanked by someone who I thought had to be his trainer. His shirt was off, and he wore nothing but a thin pair of boxer shorts that clung to his form.
I would’ve been drooling if I wasn’t so worried about him getting his head knocked off.
Charlie sensed my presence through our bond. He immediately beamed, and I felt him brush up against the edge of my consciousness, telling me he was happy I was here to watch.
His joy was obvious. I couldn’t mistake it for anything else. This sick, twisted shit made him happy, as fucked up as it was. And who was I to get in the way of that? I had to trust that he wouldn’t get hurt.
As Charlie jumped into the ring, he had a wild look on his face. I couldn’t call it determined… it was more like… crazy.
And trust me, I knew crazy.
Charlie’s opponent entered the ring, and my mouth went dry. He was at least a foot taller than Charlie, and fifty pounds heavier. He was corded with muscle, with arms that looked bigger than tree trunks. Kallie tilted her head when she saw him.
“I know that guy. His name’s Tony. He’s in my Fae class,” Kallie told me.
Charlie was up against a freakingshifter? They were strong as hell! This was hardly a fair fight.
The official’s voice came over the microphone as he shouted, “Newcomer, the Dangerous Dragon, is going up against our current reigning champion, the Blind Bandit!”
“Wow, that’s not ableist,” I mumbled with a growl, but Marcus nudged me.
“This is a fight for the ages. The Blind Bandit has never been beaten, folks!” the announcer cried. “Has he met his match tonight? The only thing left to do, isfight!”
As the bell rang out, signaling the fight was starting, I grabbed Marcus’ hand. He squeezed it back, and I tried to loosen the tightness in my chest as I watched Charlie approach his opponent. The two danced around each other, until the shifter lunged out a massive punch. I gasped, but Charlie avoided it and smashed his fists into the face of the shifter in retaliation. The shifter went stumbling backward, until he ran forward, arms extended to put Charlie into a hold. Charlie avoided that, too, and landed a kick to the shifter’s back. He went staggering forward. He barely had time to bring his hands up to block his face before Charlie brought his fist down again. The shifter socked Charlie in the gut a few times, but Charlie didn’t even appear to feel it as he landed a couple of harsh kicks to the shifter’s torso.
Charlie wasreallygood. I was impressed with how well he could fight. He was fast, and nimbler than the other fighter. He dodged anything the shifter threw at him and retaliated just as quickly. The crowd cheered every time Charlie landed a punch, or groaned whenever he missed. Clearly, he was the top favorite.
I felt Charlie’s ecstasy surge through our bond as he fought. He was right. He really didn’t feel alive unless his life was on the line. This was exciting to him. It gave him a rush I already worried he was addicted to. Every time he landed a punch, he got a thrill. Every time the shifter punched him back, it just made him want to fight harder. I became more and more anxious as the fight dragged on, wondering when it was going to end.
