Her knuckles drove into the soft spot under his jaw with enough force to snap his head sideways. Too low to hurt him, not with all that muscle and bone. He snarled, off balance, lumbering to get his feet under him, but she was already gone, circling, every step careful.
The crowd went wild.
The Hound charged again, trying to crush her withsheer brute force, and my heart stopped as he caught her wrist, her entire arm disappearing into his enormous paw.
Emberline’s eyes met mine one last time.
Not a drop of fear.
Just that same fierce, lethal calm.
Then she smiled, and quick and razor-sharp, she twisted, letting him pull herintothe punch instead of away. Her free hand came up in a blur, knuckles aimed—straight toward the same spot on his throat, except this time, she struck with enough force and crushed his larynx.
The wet crunch echoed across the sand, the crowd leaning forward.
I swallowed, throat burning. Hope was a dangerous thing in this place, yet here I was…hoping. Emberline wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t even fighting right now.
She washunting.
21
EMBERLINE
Stone scraped my knees as I fought my captors, my braid snagged in someone’s fist. They carried me out of my cell with the same casual cruelty they’d tossed me in here. During the day, the scorched air of the Fossa was thick enough to chew, and up ahead of me, the roar of the crowd rose and fell like a wave—a hungry, desperate, feral tide.
I let them think I was weak.
Exhausted.Frightened.
Fear gave weaker males confidence, made them blind to the truth.
My body hung slack when they hauled me through the gate and into the ring; the Overseer was there, watching, and his smile told me he liked breakable things. He would use this fight to sap my strength, and then, once he had me somewhere in the bowels of this hideous place, chained and helpless, the real games would begin.
But I’d been around males like him my entire life.
Perhaps not as soulless, but every bit as manipulative.
The guards dropped me, and I landed on all fours, breathing grit through my nose, counting my heartbeats like a steadying metronome.
One.
Two.
Three.
I’d trained for this. Practiced day and night for most of my life for a moment like this one. The size of my opponent didn’t matter. Big or small, bodies were the same. They all had their weak points, and I’d learned how to exploit soft tissue and joints to my best advantage.
I lifted my head.
The ring was a bowl of carved stone and shadow, walls slick with the two hundred-plus sweating, reeking bodies crammed in here. From down here, I couldn’t see Nico or Gabriel, but they were here somewhere.
That pale-eyed bastard would never let them miss this.
Backed by his masked guards, the Overseer stood at the center of a raised wood platform, his armor immaculate, as if the filth couldn’t touch him. He leaned down, murmuring something to my husband. The next moment, Dante moved, yanking all four soldiers forward, slamming his head into the Overseer’s.
The pompous bastard reeled back, and even from here, I saw the fresh gash across his forehead, dark blood seeping from his bruised temple.
I smiled, a flicker ofgood fucking riddancesweeping through me.
