Page 22 of Fighting the Alpha

I rub my temple. So much for building bridges.

Nobody moves. Marcus stares him down, his tobacco scent turning sharp and territorial. Max clears his throat, a low, warning rumble.

“Drop it, guys,” I say, stepping forward to stand closer to Levi. “He’s here because I asked him to come. He’s considering a change of camp.”

Marcus doesn’t break eye contact with Levi, but his jaw relaxes a fraction. “A change of camp,” Marcus repeats. “He’s a top-tier cruiserweight fighting out of a rival establishment in the city. If he trains here, Dylan, you two can’t fight each other on standard cards anymore. The only time you’d ever step into a ring together professionally would be if a championship title was on the line. You’d be giving up a lot of good press, both of you.”

“I know the rules, Marcus,” I say quietly, stopping a few feet away from Levi.

“Me too,” Levi chimes in, taking a step closer to me, totally ignoring the four terrifying men watching his every move. “I am tired of training with little boys. I want trainers who are less… how should I put this? Less fucking horrible. And sparring partners who match my skill.” He glances at me, his gaze dropping to my wrapped knuckles before snapping back to my eyes, a secret, wicked spark dancing in the green depths. “Andyes, we lose some press, this stupid fucking rivalry they have made out of nothing—”

“I mean, you stirred up the rivalry, dude,” Max interjects, getting a smirk from Levi in return.

“But you get another championship level fighter on your books,” Levi continues, unfazed. “You already have your huge, scary guy over there winning belts,” he gestures towards Cassius, who gives him a stern look. ”And Dylan and I are both headed to the big leagues. I will get there first, probably, but he will follow. It would be bad business for you to turn me away, and you know it.”

Jed lets out a loud, sudden snort, breaking the suffocating tension. “Well, the French kid’s got balls, I’ll give him that.”

Max shakes his head, a reluctant grin breaking through his gruff exterior. “He’s small, Jed. Probably thinks he can duck through a vent if things go sideways.”

“I am not small,” Levi huffs, turning his sharp gaze toward Max, his competitive pride instantly flaring. “I am streamlined. It is called efficiency of movement,mon ami. You should try it. It might help with that slow left hook I saw on your old tapes.”

Max’s eyebrows shoot up, before he lets out a booming, appreciative laugh. “It’s going to be a laugh a minute with you around, huh?”

Even Cassius lets out a low, rumbled huff that sounds suspiciously like approval. Marcus watches the interaction, his gaze shifting from Levi’s defiant stance to the quiet, protective way I’m lingering just a half-step in front of him, and he gives me another one of those goddamn looks.

“You’re sure about this, Dyl?” he says seriously.

“I’m sure,” I say. “It’s good for the gym. It’s, uh—it’s good for me.”

I notice Levi’s gaze shift to me out of the corner of my eye, but I keep my eyes trained on Marcus as he nods curtly. Marcusglances at Max, who gives him a thumbs up, and Jed, gives an affable shrug.

Marcus sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, but the uncertainty is gone from his face. “Okay, you’re welcome here if you want to jump ship. But if you bring drama into my gym, or you fuck with Dyl, I’ll throw you out myself. Understood?”

I feel my cheeks heat up at Marcus’ protective jab, the meaning behind his words clear to me—and Levi, if the amused little eyebrow wiggle he gives me is anything to go by—but thankful that it seems to go over everyone else’s heads. For now, at least.

“Oh, I will bring drama,” Levi says, his cockiness back in full force. “But don’t worry, you will like it. It will make us all lots of money.”

“Jesus, don’t let him anywhere near Alex,” Marcus murmurs as the others laugh. “Those two would be a nightmare together. Okay, do you want me to show you around, or shall we skip straight to the paperwork?”

Levi finds me in the locker room forty-five minutes later, leaning against the lockers easily and watching me towel dry my hair.

“Disappointing,” he says. “I was hoping you would be naked.”

“Five minutes too late, I’m afraid,” I grin. He looks so good in just his hoodie that it’s hard to keep my scent under control in the small space. “How’d it go?”

“Well, I am almost officially a member of The Foundry,” he says, a warm, genuine grin spreading across his face, and my heart jumps. “I just have to sign the contract.”

“Damn. I think it’s a good decision.”

“Yes, well. At least I know they train good fighters here.”

He gives me a pointed look, and I grin, throwing my towel in the laundry and pushing my hair back, not missing the admiring way Levi’s eyes follow the movement. “Was that… was that a compliment? From Levi Bastien?”

“Bah non, Dylan, did you think I mean you? No, I was talking about that enormous, terrifying alpha who does not speak, the one who could probably crush you like a bug.”

I roll my eyes. “Cassius could eat either of us for breakfast.”

He takes a step closer to me, and I swear I can smell the spike in his scent too, an edge of something unsettled lingering underneath his usual smell, his voice dropping lower. “Tell me, Dylan. Does your trainer know that we are fucking?”