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They’d been born with magic, and it’d been a part of their family for generations. Me, on the other hand? I was “magic blessed,” gifted magic by the gods for some inexplicable reason.

So yeah, the magic users and I might share powers, but we definitely weren’t the same.

I sat down and leaned forward in the seat, resting my elbows on my thighs. It had been a long time since I sat in the stands to watch a fight, but I was pretty excited about it. I’d been so busy fighting, I’d forgotten the thrill of watching a good match.

The guy next to me looked too excited, like it was his first time. He glanced over at me, then strained his neck to look into the ring. “I’ve been waitin’ to see who Vincent’s new guy is for months. Ever since his girl left, he’s had an array of dudes, but none of them have been any good.”

“His girl?” I replied.

The guy nodded, his eyes glued on the stage. “Yeah, the one that won all the fights against the guys. I think they called her the Boston Beater or something like that. Apparently, she ended up with magic and can’t compete anymore. He hasn’t let any other girls in the ring.”

I had to admit, hearing that brought on a little swell of pride. I had been Vin’s number one, and either nobody was good enough to compete with me, or he wasn’t ready to replace me. Either way, that said a lot about my career, or my prior career.

Before I could respond to the guy, the bell sounded, and the fight began. The two men in the ring were decent, but they weren’t anything like I was. Still, I could feel my heart beating faster with each punch, with each kick or leg sweep. I lived for this shit.

About three minutes into the fight, as the fighters bounced back and forth in the ring, a prickle of awareness pulled at my chest. I rubbed at it with my fingers and looked up, scanning the crowd. As I looked directly across from where I was seated, on the other side of the ring, I froze.

A pair of sparkling green eyes were watching me, ignoring the fight entirely.

Lachlan.

Holy fuck. What is he doing here?

His shaggy reddish brown hair glinted in the light, and his tall stature and impossibly broad shoulders made him stand out in the crowd. He was big and burly and intensely masculine, everything you’d expect a magic-wielding, motorcycle-riding Irishman to be.

Heat flared through my entire body, lighting me up instantly.

I’d missed him. Way more than I’d let myself admit. But the sight of him now made such a rush of relief and desire flood me that it was impossible to deny.

I could still remember the first time I’d seen him. It’d been in this very warehouse, on the night my magic had manifested. I had been in the middle of the fight, lying on the ground—giving my opponent just a few minutes of solid fighting so he didn’t feel so pathetic when I took him down. And when my gaze had shifted to the stands for a moment, I had seen him, in that same seat, giving me the same exact look.

Even then, something intense and hot had burned between us.

And now? It felt like the electricity hovering in the air between us could explode and light the whole damn place on fire.

As the fight continued, blow after blow, Lachlan’s gaze stayed locked on me. Every time there was a hit, I could feel a surge of desire flow through me. The fight in front of us was almost like foreplay, and I could feel wetness gathering at the apex of my thighs as warmth flooded my lower belly.

Fucking and fighting were two sides of the same coin, as far as I was concerned, and the violence infusing the warehouse only made my arousal spike even higher. Lachlan obviously felt it too, because I swore I could feel the lust coming off him in waves, reaching me even across all the space that separated us.

The bell went off, and the crowd cheered, ending the fight. To be honest, I hadn’t even realized it was that close, I’d been far too busy staring at Lachlan. It didn’t even really matter to me who had won.

It was only the first match of the night. There would be others, but suddenly I had very little interest in sticking around and watching.

The crowd began to talk and yell amongst themselves as the fighters left the ring, everyone celebrating or bemoaning their luck. People began to mill around, walking back and forth in front of me, momentarily breaking our eye contact. When our gazes met again, I gave him one last long look before making my way through the press of bodies toward the back door.

As I stepped out into the cold Boston night, the chill hit me hard. It wasn’t enough to cool the heat raging through my veins, but the shock to my system felt good.

My heart beat hard and fast as I made my way deeper into the alley behind the warehouse.

But I had barely taken two steps when a pair of rough hands grabbed me from behind and pushed me up against the wall, pinning me there tightly.

Chapter Two

“Ye should be more careful when ye step out into a dark alley, lass,” Lachlan’s accented voice whispered in my ear.

I smiled, grabbing his hand and swiftly knocking it away from my shoulder. I spun around, swapping positions with him in a flash and pinning him to the wall, my hands on his broad chest.

“And you should be more careful about who you walk up behind,” I murmured, my voice rough and breathy. “I could’ve killed you.”

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