Page 251 of Barinov

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The Pit - Northvale University

38 days since we’ve been back.

I’ve heard the rumors about the Hollow Kings’ private playground. Hell, I’ve even watched a few fight nights through my hacked feeds when that bastard had me spying for him. But nothing prepares you for the actual thing.

I follow Lex down the steep stone steps deeper into the belly of Northvale’s Redspire Mansion. When he swings the double doors open, I pause at the threshold. My eyes track the vast expanse of this place.

It’s fucking huge. And spectacular as hell.

Even empty with the main fight-night spotlights turned off, the place breathes violence. The walls are a seamless, matte jet-black that look like they absorb light for fun. Running along the upper tiers and deep within the architectural cutouts are neon red accents.

“Looks like veins up there,” I mutter, nodding to the lights.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Lex huffs over his shoulders as we continue our descent.

We get to a concrete floor stained a deep red that looks dangerously close to dried blood. Dead center of The Pit sits the main ring. It’s four-sided, massive, and bordered by thick black and red ropes.

“Jesus, Lex,” I mutter, my voice echoing slightly in the vast, quiet arena. I look up at the intricate maze of lighting rigs and steel framing hanging from the high ceiling. “You guys built a literal underworld down here.”

“Yeah,” Lex says, tossing his keys onto a nearby table. “Dad and Roman did a hell of a job didn’t they?”

He walks over to the corner of the ring, kicks off his shoes, and strips his shirt off. The dim overhead lighting catches the Orthodox domes mixed with what looks sort of like blue-print lines inked all over his arms and the phoenix rising between his collarbones when he turns my way.

But it’s the ink over his heart that steals my focus. Bella’s name is surrounded by swirling lines like smoke.

“What?” he grits out as he clocks my stare.

I shake my head, embarrassment flooding my system. “Nothing.”

“Strip the hoodie, Z. And wrap your hands,” he says, already wrapping his knuckles with the practical and lethal precision of someone who has done this shit a hundred times. “Let’s see if we can beat that fucker out of your head.”

I toss my hoodie onto a ringside chair and quickly wrap my hands with the tape Lex threw. Then climb into the ring.

“Alright,” I say, rolling my shoulders. “What now?”

Before the words can even fully clear my damn lips, Lex steps inside my guard and hauls off, launching a brutal right hook straight into my jaw.

CRACK.

The force sends me stumbling backward. The taste of copper immediately floods my mouth. I shake my head, glaring at his smug ass through the sting.

“The fuck?!” I bark.

“Well, you should probably start by blocking a fucking punch,” Lex says flatly as he drops into a fighting stance.

I spit blood on the canvas and lunge forward. We trade a few heavy blows. The damp thuds of leather-wrapped knuckles against muscle echoes loudly throughout The Pit. Lex catches me with a hard jab to the ribs, forcing the air out of my lungs. But I roll it off and return the favor with a solid left hook to his chest.

We circle each other, breathing heavy.

“You still seeing that fucker?” Lex asks suddenly, his icy-blues boring into mine.

“How’d you—”

“Marisol told me,” he cuts me off, shrugging. “Now answer the damn question.”

I blink through the sweat stinging my eyes and glance over Lex’ shoulders. Up in the elevated ringside seats, Luca is sitting there. He has his ankles crossed on the velvet rope with his normal smug smile plastered across his face.