The jackal grins and spits blood onto the floor.“This big bull looks tired.”
Cruz winces.“Wrong thing to say.”
I step into the cage.The door locks behind me with a metallic clang that settles something inside my chest.The cage has rules.Boundaries.Here, violence is honest.Nobody pretends it’s anything else.
The jackal circles me, light on his feet.He is fast, lean, and cocky enough to think speed can save him from mass.It might, if I were fighting clean.Tonight, I am not.
Cruz stands outside the cage, arms crossed, face hard.He knows me well enough to watch for the moment control slips.
The bell rings.
The jackal moves first.He darts in low, aiming for my ribs.I let him land the hit.Pain blooms along my side, dull and distant.He is already moving out when I catch the back of his neck and slam him into the cage wall.
The steel rattles, and the room goes quiet.The jackal grunts, twists, and drives an elbow into my jaw.My head snaps to the side.Blood fills my mouth where my teeth cut the inside of my cheek.
For one second, I see Briana’s throat.Smooth now.Healed today, but it was torn once.The beast rises.I catch the jackal’s next punch and squeeze.Bones shift beneath my grip, and he yelps.
“Knox,” Cruz warns.
I release his hand before the bones break.Barely.The jackal stumbles back, fear finally cutting through whatever he took before the fight.Good.Fear makes people smarter.Usually.
He shifts partially instead.Claws burst from his fingers.His jaw elongates, teeth snapping sharply through a mouth that’s no longer human enough for the rules.
Cruz swears.“Shift violation.”
The bell rings once.I hear it, but I ignore it.
The jackal lunges.His claws rake across my chest, opening four hot lines from shoulder to ribs.Pain flashes so bright it clears some of the red from my vision.I grab him by the throat and lift him off the floor.
His feet kick.His claws scrape my forearm.
The beast likes that too much.
I slam the jackal down onto the mat hard enough to knock the air out of him, then drop my knee onto his chest and pin him there.My hand stays around his throat.Not crushing.Not yet.
He stares up at me with wide yellow eyes.
Yield, I think.Say it.
He wheezes, and my grip tightens.
Briana’s voice slips through the roar in my head.I am alive.
My hand loosens, and the jackal slaps the mat.
“Yield,” he croaks.
I push off him and stand.My chest heaves.Blood slides down my torso, warm and familiar.The cage door opens, and Cruz steps inside, putting himself between the jackal and me as the ghoul drags the idiot out by one ankle.
“Done,” Cruz says.
I shake my head.
“Yes,” he snaps.“Done.”
The beast rams against my control, furious and unsatisfied.I turn away before Cruz can see my eyes, but it’s too late.
He lowers his voice.“You need air.”
